Three Different Places, Yet All Three Wish for a Better Fate

After leaving the bathroom, they grabbed their bread and began making their way home. The autumn leaves drifted down, painting the sidewalks and streets in warm shades of orange and yellow.

As usual, Viora skated just a few inches ahead of Cyrus and Gwishin, effortlessly gliding along. She whistled a lighthearted tune, her hair swaying gently with the crisp autumn breeze. A carefree smile rested on her face, as if the world's worries couldn't reach her.

Cyrus watched Viora with a soft expression, though with his usual demeanor, it was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking.

Gwishin, on the other hand, had a gentle smile as she observed Viora skating ahead. Then, shifting her gaze, she turned her attention to Cyrus.

"You seem to be in a great mood..Cyrus"

As he walked, he didn't turn his head. Instead, he kept his gaze on the girl skating ahead and responded in a strange tone,

"You think so?"

He then lifted his head to look at the sky, the clouds painted in deep orange and red. Letting out a quiet sigh, he spoke in a low, steady voice.

"I suppose I just enjoy these little mundane walks… It's one of the things I appreciate in life."

Gwishin tilted her head, looking at him with a tender expression.

"It doesn't take much for you to enjoy life, does it, Cyrus?"

Cyrus kept his gaze on the sky. As a red autumn leaf drifted down, he caught it gently, pausing for a moment to study it. His eyes darkened slightly before he spoke in a low voice.

"Of course I do… After all, it's always in the hardest and grimmest times that you wish to go back to these little moments in life. That's when people truly start to understand their value."

Releasing the leaf, he watched it float down to the ground. As it landed, he murmured,

"And more importantly… a moment like this—where the three of us walk together—might never happen again."

Gwishin caught a leaf of her own, drawing Cyrus's attention. It was a mix of yellow, orange, and red, vibrant yet fleeting. Holding it gently against her chest, she smiled softly and spoke in a tender voice.

"Well, I hope we have many more walks like this—the three of us. Many more in the future…"

Cyrus watched her for a moment before a rare smile crossed his face.

"…I hope for that too."

***

"Pfft, your face looks like something only a mother could love. Pretty disgusting to look at, you know?"

The monkey in the red cape grinned, sitting atop a large rock with his staff resting lazily on his shoulder. His sharp eyes gleamed with amusement.

Umeboshi couldn't respond right away. His face was so swollen and battered that it resembled a bloated balloon covered in red paint. He lay sprawled on the ground, surrounded by broken trees and shattered earth.

The monkey glanced at the sky above Mount Osore and mused, "You know, you're probably the first human in a long time to live on this mountain. Why the hell are you even here?"

Umeboshi inhaled sharply, every breath laced with pain. Yet, despite it, he forced himself to speak.

"I... I came here because I wanted to change. I wanted to finally stop being a fool..." His voice wavered, but his conviction was steady. "My whole life—even my afterlife—people kept calling me an idiot. Cyrus… that guy in the boat… Anne… that brat… even my own dead old man. Over and over again, they all told me the same thing. But I don't want to be some deluded fool anymore. I want to be strong… truly strong."

The monkey regarded him with an unreadable expression, then reached into his fur and tossed something at Umeboshi's face.

A rice ball.

Umeboshi blinked in confusion as the monkey stood up, stretching.

"Eat it. You probably haven't eaten since you got here, right? Hurry up. I've decided to train you."

Umeboshi stared at the rice ball in his hands, grimacing.

Is this even food? It's covered in fur…

He looked up at the monkey's back.

"Why are you even helping me? You don't even know who I am."

The monkey didn't answer right away. He took a few steps forward before speaking.

"Anyone can hurt others… even the stupidest monkey can do that." Then, he glanced back with a smirk.

"But to help someone with nothing in return? That takes a monkey with a strong heart."

The monkey suddenly leaped from tree to tree, his red cape fluttering behind him.

"I'm going to get water!!" he shouted before vanishing into the forest.

Umeboshi stared at the rice ball in his hands, his expression unreadable. He let out a long sigh before finally taking a bite.

…It's disgusting.

***

"You need to be better than that, Anne! How can a descendant of the Tsukiyama clan—the proud family of Itako—bite the dust so miserably every time?! You are bringing shame to our name!"

The voice belonged to an old woman, her face etched with deep wrinkles. She wore a traditional white kimono, the kind commonly worn by Itako, and a black silk cloth covered her eyes. In both hands, she held a tessen, a traditional Japanese folding fan.

The setting was an ancient wooden temple, its walls steeped in centuries of history. The air was thick with incense, but the only sound was labored breathing from the child sprawled on the wooden floor—bruised, bloodied, and exhausted.

The girl had long, pure golden hair, though it was dirtied with dust and sweat. Like the old woman, a strip of black silk covered her eyes.

Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Shame to the Tsukiyama clan? A proud family of Itako? What are you talking about…?"

She lifted her head, her expression twisting in anger.

"Our bloodline was banished to this mountain for centuries! And you think I can restore our family's past greatness—as a child?!"

The old blind woman's lips curled in contempt before she swung her tessen, striking Anne across the face with enough force to send her crashing back to the floor.

"Before being a child, you are a Tsukiyama above all." The old woman's voice was sharp, unwavering. "You are the most talented of our bloodline in a long time. That is why I place all my hopes on you."

She turned her back to her granddaughter, her grip tightening on the tessen in her hands.

"Do you think this mountain of the dead is where we truly belong? Before our exile, we were a noble clan, hailing from a faraway land—a land of great spirituality, even greater than this mountain itself. The land where shamans truly belong. Where we belong."

She took a step forward, her voice colder now.

"We will find a way to return home, no matter what it takes… Even if you must train for centuries after your death. Being a Tsukiyama is all that you have, Anne."

With that, she walked away from the temple, disappearing into the shadows.

Now alone, Anne sat still for a moment, cradling her cheek where she had been struck. Then, slowly, she reached up and removed the strip of black silk covering her eyes.

Her breath hitched as she stared at it.

Tears welled in her brilliant blue eyes—eyes that had been hidden away for so long.

Her grandmother had forced her to blind herself. A necessary sacrifice, she had said, part of the training to become an Itako.

Anne clenched the silk in her hands, her shoulders trembling.

"I… I can't do it," she whispered. "What am I even supposed to do? Why do I have to do all of this…?"

The temple was silent, but the weight of her fate pressed down on her like a curse.

chapter eighty-five end...