"I don't want to alarm you, Akira," Ito said evenly, "but you have a Yokai inside you."
Akira froze for half a second—
Then he clawed at his chest.
"What?!" His fingers scraped skin in blind panic. "How do I get it out?!"
Ito moved instantly, catching both wrists before Akira could tear himself bloody.
"Aye—stop," he said sharply. "I said don't panic."
Akira's breath came fast and shallow, teeth clenched like he was bracing for something to burst out of him.
"This," Ito continued, lowering Akira's arms without letting go, "is exactly why I didn't start with punching trees or flaring Tao."
Akira blinked. "You… knew?"
"I suspected," Ito replied. "Didn't expect it to be this clear, though, your Tao is so easy to see."
He released Akira and took a step back, posture loosening—but his eyes stayed sharp.
"Sit."
Akira hesitated, then sat cross-legged on the floor.
"Now," Ito said, crouching across from him, "before Tao becomes power, it's sensation. If you don't learn that first, you'll mistake pressure for strength and burn yourself out."
Akira frowned. "So… what do I do?"
"Nothing," Ito said. "That's the hard part."
Akira stared at him. "That's it?"
Ito smirked. "For most people, yeah."
He reached down and placed two fingers lightly against Akira's sternum—not on the mark, but just above it.
"Close your eyes," Ito said. "Don't reach. Don't push. Just… notice."
Akira did as told.
At first, there was nothing. Just the echo of his own heartbeat. The ache in his ribs. The faint itch where Ito's fingers rested.
Then—
Warmth.
Not heat. Not energy. Just presence. Like standing near a crowd without hearing voices.
Akira's brow furrowed. "Something's… there."
Ito's fingers lifted immediately. "Good. Don't chase it."
Akira clenched his fists. "It feels… big."
Ito chuckled under his breath. "That's not Tao. That's you."
Akira opened one eye. "What?"
"Tao is life, and thus you are Tao," Ito said. "It's a weird thing to accept. Since Tao is often seen only as an object to be used, Taoists know that Tao and body are one."
Akira went still again, eyes closing fully this time.
The warmth sharpened. Spread. It wasn't moving outward—it was everywhere, like a pressure behind his bones.
And beneath it—
Something else.
Cold.
Calm.
Watching.
Akira's breath hitched. "There's… another rhythm."
Ito's tone changed instantly. "Describe it."
"Slow," Akira said. "Heavy. Like it's… resting."
Ito stood.
"That," he said quietly, "is not normal."
Akira swallowed. "So I really do have a Yokai."
"Yes," Ito said. "And it's not hiding."
Akira's eyes snapped open. "Then why didn't I feel it before?"
Ito folded his arms. "Probably because it wasn't letting you."
Silence settled between them.
Ito paced once, thinking. Then stopped in front of Akira again.
"Normally," he said, "Yokai contracts work by a Yokai giving a human power for a human's Tao, this leaves both their Tao pools separate along with their powers, but this Yokai is combined with you in all things, including Tao pools. Meaning that Yokai is stopping you not only from using his powers, but from learning how to use Tao. But-"
Akira tilted his head. "But?"
Ito's gaze flicked to Akira's split-colored hair.
"But you'll have to enter your true realm. A space that will allow you to communicate with the Yokai you have a contract with."
He knelt and placed his palm flat on the ground between them.
"The thing is, it's only available for Taoists to enter, so I must force my Tao through you so you can temporarily enter the True Realm."
Akira stiffened. "That sounds painful."
Ito grinned. "It's gentler than it sounds."
A thin ripple of Tao spread from Ito's palm—not explosive, not violent. It was steady, controlled, like a slow wave brushing Akira's senses.
Akira inhaled sharply.
The warmth inside him responded instantly.
The pressure deepened.
The world tilted.
"Don't resist," Ito said. "And don't follow me. Just let your body decide where it wants to go."
The floor vanished.
Akira floated.
No up. No down. Just endless space, painted in slow-moving layers of color—like reality mid-thought.
At the center stood a throne.
He felt it immediately. Not desire—recognition.
The moment he leaned toward it, his body locked.
Something massive stepped into view beside him.
A lion-like humanoid—golden mane streaked with silver flame, eyes calm, ancient, and sharp.
"Who are you?" Akira demanded. "Where am I?"
"I am Arthur," the being said, voice deep and even. "And this is your mind."
Akira clenched his teeth. "Figures."
Arthur inclined his head toward the throne. "That is your true realm."
"Then why can't I reach it?"
"Because you haven't yet reached it, most Taoists never reach it," Arthur replied.
Akira exhaled slowly. "Anyway, have … you've been stealing my Tao."
Arthur shook his head gently.
"If I stop," he said, "we both die."
Images flickered—
A crying infant.A clawed hand brushes his forehead.Rain. Running. Arthur carried him to orphanage before signing a contract with him.
Akira swallowed. "Alright, but you have to let me learn Tao."
Arthur turns his back on Akira. "No."
Akira looks shocked, "What do you mean, no!?"
Arthur turns back around. "I wish for us to live a normal and easy life; being a Taoist is none of that."
Akira points to his chest," From what I've just seen, you've known me since I was born, so what makes you think I will just give up on my dream so easily?"
Arthur nodded.
Akira looked back at the throne.
Arthur smiled faintly.
"I will wait. For you to achieve that dream, alright."
Back in the room, Akira collapsed forward onto his hands.
Ito caught him before his face hit the floor.
"You know Tao yet?" Ito muttered, eyes wide.
Akira groaned before raising a thumb up.
Ito laughed.