Somewhere in a dark void,
Numbness came almost immediately—or not. Harry could not tell, as he was currently in a situation one could only describe as timeless.
'A phenomenon where the 'immortal' time is stagnant,' he mused. He was not sure how much time had passed since he died, or was he actually dead?
'Humans could never explain death; they just assumed that the non-functioning of the brain and body was death, (also the rotting of body afterwards) as science looked at facts rather than assumptions or myths of souls.' Thought Harry as he tried to see something in the abyss-like darkness ahead of him.
He then tried to move but was unable to. He tried to move his head, again failing to do so.
'Hmm, strange. I can see or... feel at least but cannot move. I can think but cannot talk out loud. Strange indeed. Maybe I am in a coma or in the afterlife,' his thoughts continued, but he could not reach a conclusion, as nobody has ever come back from the dead to tell the tale about it. Some claimed to have defeated death, but he knew that was impossible, as there was no proof. As a man of science, he tended to be in favor of facts.
After waiting for what seemed like a minute and a month at the same time, Harry started to experience a new sensation—a bad feeling enveloped his body? Soul? He felt like his whole existence was threatened, and it was steadily raising.
The feeling remained for some time, then suddenly stopped. Harry was now waiting for the drop; it came as expected—a wrapping sensation gripped his form and started pulling him towards some place.
'Fuuuuuuuck!! Death is supposed to be peaceful!' And, of course, whatever it was, it was not gentle with Harry in the least. Harry had not felt like this in all of his time on the human plane. It was like someone was turning him inside-out continuously again and again and was simultaneously trying to squeeze his entire body into a hole with the diameter of a strand of hair!
Though Harry could not feel any pain, the feeling was enough to make his metaphorical mind go bonkers.
The feeling seemed to never stop, and Harry was tired of waiting for it to stop. While he desperately wanted to pass out, his whole form shook him awake at every attempt. He could only grit his non-existent teeth and endure...
So...he endured.
And endured...
And endured...
...
An eternity later...
Harry had now entered a state called 'passive death'. It was a state in which, when a soul that has endured much torture enters to save its consciousness from fading away—a defensive measure, if you will. Nothing was worrying about it, save for the fact that coming back from it was nearly impossible.
Being declared half dead while being dead was sure to confuse the hell out of Harry if he knew about, though if he was still on earth he would probably write a letter to death if possible.
Now the time had arrived to deliver the soul of Harry to its destination. While the soul had endured many damages, there was nothing that could be done to avoid it. Souls were weird; healing them was a question long asked in the realm of celestials, but few could actually answer it. Those few knew that a soul cannot heal itself without consequences.
Finally, Harry's journey ended, and his soul appeared in another place, in front of an all-blue planet.
When Harry's soul was about to be delivered to the planet, a strange phenomenon happened. A blue light exited a vortex and directly entered his transparent, flame-like soul, settling itself deep within his soul. Whether it was good or bad for Harry, only time would tell.
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In a dimly lit room inside a big house in a village somewhere on the planet...
Night time.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!" A tired-looking woman screamed in pain from labor, sweat dripping from her whole body, indicating the extent of her struggle. Three other ladies were present in the room, taking care of her at the moment. One was wiping the woman's sweat while consoling her, another was repeatedly soaking a padded piece of cloth in chamomile tea and placing it on the woman's abdomen. The last one was carefully delivering the baby.
The atmosphere in the house was solemn, and while her screams sounded somewhat muffled, they could still be heard outside where a crowd from the village had gathered. However, these people were held back by many men wearing heavy armor and wielding blades at their waists.
The woman's husband and the lord of the village sat quietly in one of the rooms, drinking tea. It was evident to anyone that the lord was stressed beyond doubt. The lord was of course very handsome even when he looked distressed, his shoulder length black hair fell on his back and his deep black eyes were somewhat tired but unusually sharp, he wore the traditional blue kimono with white spots.
"My Lord, please rest assured. Those ladies are very experienced in this field. When my son's wife was due, I myself employed them. My grandson came into the world without any complications, all thanks to them," a mature man with grey streaks in his hair, sitting beside the husband, tried to pacify the young lord's fears.
Listening to the old man, the young lord smiled weakly and nodded without uttering any words.
The old man sighed and quietly sipped his tea, understanding that nothing would deter the young lord's mood right now.
After some time, the screams finally stopped. Such a thing, of course, did not escape the ears of both men, who hurriedly stood up upon noticing the event. They approached the room of the lady, but only the young lord entered, while the old man stayed outside.
As the lord entered the room, his eyes naturally fell on the unconscious lady draped in white sheets. He hurriedly approached her and noticed, to his relief, that his wife was breathing—slowly, surely, but still breathing.
One of the three ladies present, who was holding a bundle of clothes in her hand, timidly approached the lord and spoke in an uncertain voice. "M-My lord, Lady Mitsuri is out of any danger. She will wake up soon enough, but..." Her voice somewhat faded at the end.
The lord, hearing her, felt relief and at her words. While accomplished in many arts of different kinds, healing was not his forte. But he also noticed the subtle tremor in her voice, and noticing the bundle of clothes in her hand, a feeling of dread spread along himself.
"But what? Speak clearly, please," the lord requested, his eyes glued to the bundle in her arms. He could not bring himself to ask the question as to why his newborn was not moving around which was considered the sign of a healthy child.
"My Lord, please be calm. The child is alive and well, but... he does not cry at all, and appears to be sleeping," the woman holding the child gathered her strength and calmly explained the situation.
"Does not cry? Appears to be sleeping? Sigh, is that so unusual?" the lord had no experience in this matter. To him, sleeping or crying was only natural, as long as the child was alive, all other alignments could be considered alright.
"It is somewhat unusual but not entirely unheard of, but still i will request the lord to please make sure that the young Heir cries as soon as possible," the woman gave an honest reply while requesting the Lord.
The lord smiled for the first time in the whole week as he assured the ladies that he would make sure that the child cries and laughs as soon as possible, while also requesting them to keep this matter to themselves.
After this discussion, he sent the ladies out and ordered his own servants to assist his wife further, while he took his own child in his arms for the first time.
Looking at the carefree child with short, deep black hair and a cute face, the lord, felt a new but familiar feeling of protectiveness and love. It was different from the love of a son or the love of a man for a woman. He could not tell, but the love he felt for his son cascaded all kinds of love he ever felt in his lifetime...
'This feeling of powerlessness, desire to do anything and everything for another is not new, but at the same time different. I wonder if my father also felt the same when he held me for the first time.'
As he moved his hands to touch his sons face he was alarmed with the warmness the child's body excluded.
'Such warm body, maybe because he was just born, but still...i know, your name will be...'
Lost in his thoughts the lord spent some time with his newborn and his unconscious wife before leaving for work.
The lord, next morning announced to the villagers about the birth of his son and promised a feast when his wife came back to health.
Lady Mitsuri had requested to be handed her son as soon as she opened her eyes. Staring gently with her night-like eyes, the lady finally slept peacefully with her child, even if all the child did was breathe. Three days later, she gained enough energy to move around and went to meet her husband, who for some reason did not come to meet her all this time.
Holding her son in her arms as he slept still, taking shallow breaths, she moved toward the ground situated in the back of the big house. Mitsuri heard some loud sounds and she then saw her husband, the lord of the village, in a spar against one of his soldiers.
The soldier huffed and stared past his sweat at the man in front of him; he was the new lord of this village, appointed by the Daimyo. While many speculated the man to be some amateur fat noble at first, the young man surprised everyone in the village by proving to be a very efficient and compassionate leader.
'The gods are truly cruel. How could they bless a single man with so much while leaving us to struggle endlessly?' the soldier thought grumbly while firming his grip on the katana to stop his shaking arms and again taking his stance.
The lord, however, looked anything but tired. Both of them had exchanged blows many times but his breathing remained unchanged and uninterrupted. The lord too had taken a stance but compared to the stiff and ever so slightly shaking sword of his opponent, his was loose and firm at the same time, showing a paradoxical sword style.
While both of them were staring at each other, the lord had noticed his wife standing from the corner of his eyes. Seeing the situation, he decided to end the bout and moved at a frightening speed. There were some soldiers and officials spectating the spar, however, only a few of them, very experienced once, could see the shadow of the young lord.
Seeing his opponent move, the soldier too tried to move but as he raised his foot while gathering his chakra, all he saw was a flash of light that seemed to reflect from a shiny surface and with it came a sensation of cold steel touching his neck.
The lord removed his katana from his opponent's neck and praised while remarking, "You have improved much from our first spar Kotaro. Keep practicing and improve your reaction speed some more."
The soldier, Kotaro, still in shock at the quick end, blurted out his words while bowing slightly, "Y-yes, my lord, I will improve further."
Nodding at Kotaro, he moved his eyes to his officials who all praised his combat abilities and showed their surprise at his never-seen-before speed.
After dismissing all onlookers, the lord finally came to meet his wife who was standing with their child in her arms along with her stood two female attendants.
"You should rest some more, Mitsuri; your body is still too weak," the lord spoke with apparent worry in his voice.
Subtly smiling at his worry, Mitsuri replied, "I'm alright, Masahi." Pouting, she continued, "Though I'm still upset that it was not your face I saw first when I woke up."
"Hahaha!" Laughing loudly at her expression, Masahi replied, "Sorry about that; it's just that the borders are very volatile recently, I have to be active at all times."
They sat down onto two cushions laid and a table in between with tea with some snacks on it and continued talking some more. Finally, Masahi informed her of the shocking news.
"Mitsuri... with our child, there seems to be a problem," Masahi spoke with some reluctance.
"A problem? How so?" Mitsuri asked in surprise.
Masahi didn't speak for a moment as he looked towards the courtyard in contemplation. After sighing, he continued, "When he came into the world, you were unconscious, and there were no witnesses to his birth except for me and the three ladies. He came quietly, too quietly. Although I don't know much about these matters, even I know that a healthy child cries when born, but he didn't. For the three day you slept he was also sleeping, not waking up once." He fell silent after relaying the news, seeing as Mitsuri did not speak he continued while faint smile "When I first touched him, he was unusually warm. Hence, I named him Enji, Enji Kurogane."
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Long time no see, was extremely busy with my studies but still wrote this one as a means to distract and calm myself. will continue to write occasionally.