Reiji stood in the middle of the Kamo clan's training ground. A thin layer of sweat was plastered across his body. Long hours of training had left him exhausted, yet the training dummy before him remained perfectly intact.
He sighed as he hoisted the weapons in his hands into the air—two weapons, to be precise. The ones Dairoku had chosen for him were a pair of whips.
The whips sliced through the air with sharp cracks, the sound echoing across the courtyard like the snapping of thunder. Reiji's movements were fluid yet unrefined; each strike was a mix of controlled precision and raw instinct. He twisted his torso, letting the momentum guide his arms as he lashed both whips simultaneously; one carving through the air horizontally, the other snapping downward in a diagonal arc.
"Too slow!" Dairoku barked from the sidelines.
Reiji gritted his teeth and shifted his stance, spreading his weight evenly before flicking his wrists again. This time, the whips responded more naturally, dancing through the air in seamless spirals that created afterimages of red. The metallic tips sparked faintly as they collided with the training dummy, drawing shallow cuts across its surface.
The rhythm grew steadier, with the left whip controlling reach, and the right whip channelling brute force. By the time Reiji's arms began to ache, he was able to alternate and combine strikes in unpredictable patterns.
Still, Dairoku only grunted. "That is much better. But you are still lacking."
Reiji slumped down on the ground as the cool evening wind soothed his wet skin. He stared at the setting sun with a melancholic expression. For a brief moment, he seemed to be at peace.
His peace, however, was quickly disrupted by a brash voice.
"You're tired already? Hmm…" The elder's tone carried a mocking judgment.
Reiji paid no heed to his master and continued staring at the sky as if it held something precious. His deep fixation prompted Dairoku to look up as well, if only to check what had caught his disciple's attention.
When he did, even the elder was captivated by the sight of the evening sky. His expression softened as he realized some things truly never lost their charm.
The breeze swept gently through the pair's hair. Dairoku exhaled and murmured, "Well, I have to admit… it's beautiful."
Reiji's gaze did not waver, but his tone grew quiet and grave. "No… there's something wrong with it."
Dairoku's confused eyes darted toward him. "What do you mean, brat?"
"It's probably nothing," Reiji shrugged faintly.
Dairoku frowned but did not press the issue. "Are you done for the day, then?"
Reiji nodded slightly. "Yes, Master. You were right about this; the whip suits me well. It helps that it doubles as a gauntlet too."
In a smooth motion, he lashed both whips, coiling them neatly around his forearms until they rested like armoured serpents.
Dairoku nodded, his voice unusually soft, as though the sky's serenity had melted his rough persona. "Good… It's nothing special, though. Even if you master it, we do not have any whip-like cursed tools in the clan weaponry, unfortunately."
Reiji examined the weapon-turned-gauntlets with fascination. "That's fine, really. The blood channels within these are a blessing."
A rare smile tugged at Dairoku's lips. He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Off you go, then. Don't be late again tomorrow, you brat."
Reiji grinned faintly as he turned toward the main corridor. His thoughts were already spinning with new ideas; techniques, combinations, and applications for his newfound weapon.
'Who knew the old man was so good at martial arts,' he mused. He was right to be surprised, Dairoku Kamo's strength in the current generation was unmatched. Truthfully, Reiji had never seen his master fight and could only imagine the gap between them.
The corridor ahead was long and dimly lit, lined with wooden rooms on both sides. The flickering lanterns made the air feel heavier, and soon, a strange dizziness began to settle over him.
'W-what?' His balance faltered as his vision blurred. The world twisted into a dizzying haze, forcing him to clutch his head.
'What is this? A cursed technique?'
A searing pain tore through his skull as he fell to his knees. His senses were thrown into chaos… until his right eye- Akame, flared open, cutting through the madness like a blade.
The distortion cleared, and Reiji's eye revealed something that froze his blood.
A woman stood before him, her back turned. She wore winter robes embroidered with familiar floral patterns.
Reiji's breath caught in his throat. Every nerve in his body went cold. The woman turned slowly, revealing a face that had been mauled and crushed: the mutilated visage of his mother.
A lifeless smile stretched unnaturally across her rendered face, as though mocking him. Reiji's body trembled, every instinct screaming that this was no illusion.
Before he could react, a sharp voice pierced the air.
"What the hell are you doing?" Dairoku's tone was firm, unshaken. "Get back to your room and recover, you fool!"
Reiji's head snapped toward his master, who stood far off at the corridor's entrance. "But-" He turned back, only to find the apparition gone.
Dairoku's sharp eyes softened with faint understanding.
'All the stress must be catching up to him,' he thought grimly.
"Tch… damn brat, go and sleep!"
Reiji gasped, scanning the hallway one last time. "Y-yes… I'll go now, Master."
He scrambled to his feet and bolted toward his room. He shivered and his heart pounded fiercely, terrified that the vision might return to haunt him.
*******************************************************************************
In an unnamed hospital in central Japan, Aurelia sat perfectly straight in her chair.
She was a well-renowned psychiatrist who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and aced her way through medical school. With her notebook in hand, she was ready to jot down every issue her patient was about to unveil.
The man, a rather good-for-nothing fellow blessed with above-average looks somehow, seemed far more interested in ogling her than talking.
Aurelia eyed her watch, unbothered by his antics.
"Mr. Takeda, it's been fifteen minutes since the session started, and you haven't spoken a word. Please keep in mind that there are other patients waiting."
The man's eyes perked up, realizing he'd been caught. He coughed in embarrassment.
"Eh… I'm sorry for my rudeness, Ms. Aurelia. I, uh…" His shoulders slumped. "…My girlfriend left me."
Without sparing him a glance, Aurelia turned to her notebook and began writing.
"That is to be expected," she said flatly. "What else is bothering you, Mister?"
Her bland, disinterested tone caught him off guard.
He clutched his chest dramatically, feigning heartbreak. "This is not how you're supposed to deal with heartbroken patients! You're supposed to sympathize or… empathize, or whatever!"
Aurelia calmly adjusted her glasses. "As we discussed before, I cannot do that… especially not in your case."
The man sighed, wounded. "Ugh. That was brutal, even for you, Doc."
The cold-hearted psychiatrist waited for him to collect himself.
"Anyway," he muttered, "my girlfriend told me to screw my coworker. You know, the one who's been hitting on me? So… I did just that."
Aurelia's calm composure cracked ever so slightly as she sighed and facepalmed.
He defended himself desperately, clearly unrepentant.
"Hey, it's not my fault, okay? It's only after I did the deed that I found out that she meant 'screw her' in a different sense!"
Aurelia muttered under her breath while writing, "Perceptual distortion… auditory illusion… or perhaps delusional interpretation."
The man's face twisted. "Hey, Doc, I'm not delusional, believe me!"
"Sure," Aurelia said tonelessly.
"Ugh, I swear I did not do it on purpose! I mean, I did what she told me to. But apparently, it wasn't what she said! Urgh!" He rubbed his temples furiously.
Her next response made him freeze. "I believe you."
"W-what? For real?"
Aurelia's gaze lifted to meet his. The air thickened as greyish-white cursed energy shimmered faintly around her.
"Yes," she said, voice calm and cutting. "I know you aren't lying."
"O-oh," he stammered. He could never get used to the way she could read emotions like a lie detector.
"Well," he muttered, "what do you think it is then, Doc?"
Aurelia's expression didn't shift. "Your sincerity doesn't rule out the possibility of delusional misinterpretation," she said smoothly, "though I do suspect your mind is on its last limbs."
The man groaned. "I'm losing everything, Doc. I swear, things keep going wrong, too wrong to be normal infact!"
"Enlighten me," she replied, her voice as dry as ever.
He sat up and launched into his explanation. "The other day at work, my boss told me I was fired. Naturally, I was sick of that fat bastard's lectures, so I stormed out. Next thing I know, he was actually giving me a promotion that day!"
"Alright," Aurelia said evenly, "and did he fire you later because you walked out?"
"YES!" Takeda slammed his hands on his knees in frustration.
He fidgeted for a moment, rubbing his palms together. "You know, I think I might actually be cursed."
Aurelia raised a brow. Her pen paused midair. "That's a bold diagnosis to make before your therapist."
He chuckled weakly. "Yeah, well, hear me out. I'm not saying haunted-haunted, it's just that… everything keeps going wrong. Constantly! It's like life itself has started micro-managing my misery."
"That sounds exhausting," Aurelia said calmly.
"You have no idea," he muttered. "It started a month ago. I was supposed to pick up my mom from the train station. I double-checked the time and even set two alarms. And I still ended up at the wrong station… in the wrong city! Who even names two stations the same thing?"
Aurelia blinked. "Rare, but not impossible. Continue."
He sighed. "Three nights ago, I was supposed to meet my sister for dinner. She texted me the restaurant address… or so I thought. Turns out the message was scrambled somehow. I ended up at an abandoned building with the same street name. GPS said it was right. And when I texted my sister about it, my phone froze."
Aurelia's pen hovered. "Scrambled communication. Repeated, small-scale coincidences resulting in misfortune… this is quite interesting."
He groaned. "You find that interesting? You're really bad at this sympathy stuff, you know that?"
"I'm physically incapable of it," she said matter-of-factly. "But I can simulate interest if it helps."
"…You're kidding, right?"
"Regrettably, no. Empathy clouds judgment. So I simply choose to observe instead."
He slumped. "That's why you're the worst therapist in the city."
"That's why I'm the best therapist in the city," she corrected smoothly.
He pressed his palms to his face. "Okay, forget that. Just tell me this isn't normal. People just don't have this much bad luck!"
She tapped her pen slowly, observing the faint ripples of color around him; frustration, confusion, despair, all shifting violently.
Something was definitely off.
"Tell me," She said softly. "Do these coincidences happen only to you?"
He hesitated. "Well, mostly me. But my coworkers and neighbours have been kind of… off lately."
"When did it start, exactly?"
He scratched his chin. "Maybe when I spilled coffee on my laptop. The cup just… slipped. I swear I didn't even touch it."
"And the laptop was new?"
"Brand new. Two weeks old infact. The lid was closed, but the coffee still somehow got inside it."
Aurelia frowned faintly. "I see."
He leaned forward. "What do you think, Doc?"
She exhaled softly, "How do you feel about all this, Mister Takeda?"
He gave a hollow laugh. "Mostly like I'm losing my mind."
"Good," she said automatically.
"Good?!"
"It means you're still sane enough to question it." She rose from her seat and walked to the window, gazing out at the dusky city skyline. Her reflection stared back; calm, beautiful, and utterly empty. "If what you're saying is true, then you're not the only one this is happening to."
The man was confused upon hearing this, "Wait… what do you mean?"
"Nothing," she said flatly. "It's probably stress."
Her cursed energy flickered again. She focused it on the man, and the lights above them trembled. The swirling shades of frustration and sorrow faded, replaced by faint hues of peace.
Takeda shivered as the tension in his chest vanished instantly.
The lights flickered once more and then steadied.
Aurelia slowly closed her notebook. "Well," she said, her tone as smooth as ever, "try not to accidentally seduce any coworkers until the next session."
Takeda groaned. "That's really comforting doc, thanks."
"I do my best," she replied seriously.
When the man finally left the room, the air shifted subtly, as if the world itself had exhaled.
Aurelia turned gracefully and smiled as she walked back to the window. Suddenly she noticed something peculiar:
Her reflection in the window smiled half a second too late.