Tales We Weave
Suzuki Yukito is a boy around 18-20 years old who lived in Massachusetts, with his former family. To an outsider, Yukito's life appeared quite ordinary. He had his school routine, and friends, and, like any typical teenager, spent his time playing video games. However, his past held a different story. As an infant, Yukito was found abandoned in a basket at the doorstep of an orphanage. No one ever discovered where he came from, but he was special. His peculiar abilities and remarkable intelligence set him apart from the other children, and it was these very traits that led to his adoption by the Suzuki family when he was just five years old. His father, Suzuki Takeshi, was a medic and spent most of his time out working in a hospital due to his family being immigrants to the US.
His mother, Suzuki Izumi, owned a library in Boston and would most of the time bring her baby son to her work due to the couple not having a babysitter to stay with the young boy at that time. The constant environment of the library and his mother's hobby and love for books bloomed a passion within the boy's heart for books and narratives. Being surrounded by a variety of books made Yukito awaken the passion he has today for writing. As Yukito grew and made his 5th birthday, he was inserted into the elementary school in Boston, usually an infant of such age would be sent to Preschool, but the many IQ tests that were done on the boy somehow made him jump a whole series to start in the next stage of education.
During a tragic point in his life (when he was around 10 years old), his mother Izumi suffered a car accident. She was taken to the hospital but did not manage to make it, this event marked an important point in Yukito's life as he carried this trauma for years. Upon the death of his mother, his life became darker given that his father, Takeshi, couldn't spend as much time to spend with him anymore, so Yukito would spend most of his time alone in the library, escorted by a butler who was hired by his father to take care of him. Despite having lost his mother, Yukito never lost his passion for writing; instead, he began writing his tales in a book as a way to escape reality. It was around this period that he discovered he could create entire worlds stacked on a single page. This peculiar ability to manipulate pataphysical narratives led Yukito to develop what he would later call Yukito's anthology, a
The Death of Izumi had not only an impact on her son but also on her husband Takeshi, who began working twice to sustain his family and the house alone while burying himself in his work to forget the pain of losing his wife. The only moments Yukito would have with his father would be during dinner, around 8 PM. Despite the constant feeling of sadness, Yukito would constantly try to dialogue and converse with his father, who became colder after the death of Izumi. Not only did he become indifferent to his son, but losing that love he had for him, after all, Yukito was adopted, so he deeply had no more reasons to truly care for him given that his wife was dead. Yet Takeshi could not afford to send Yuki back to the orphanage, despite losing that flame of love he had for his son, he still accepted to keep him as it was his wife's last wish before passing away.
This, however, caused a feeling of disgust and pain in the heart of Yukito. The person who he thought to have loved him became uncaring and indifferent to him, and yet he couldn't fully blame or hate his father, he deeply understood that losing someone was heartbreaking. Takeshi wasn't the only one who missed Izumi, but his son felt the same. This pain was starting to affect not only his mental health at work, but the remaining bond he had with Yukito. But this tragic event would not be the reason to destroy Yukito's dream and the promise he made to his mother about becoming a famous author one day, being recognized for his writing and skills. He had a long way to go before achieving his dream and making his mother proud.
The years passed and Yukito turned 18 years old, during this period he already had a car of his own, and was in charge of his mother's library, which became the way for him to earn money from the library. At this very age, Yukito had managed to become an author, although he was not famous yet he had written many books, which he would store in his library for people to read. His passion for storytelling and writing made him become a hobbyist writer, with the single desire to fulfill one of his mother's dreams. Despite having improved way more in writing, Yukito still felt like he needed to improve more aspects of his life if he wanted to become famous one day. His plans would be interrupted when one day he arrived at his home and found his father sitting on the pillow waiting for him. Takeshi's expression seemed somewhat serious and cold as usual, as he just asked Yukito to sit to start the conversation, only to reveal to him his decision to kick him out of the house, as he was living.
Yukito's expression soon changed from normal to surprise and then sadness, he had many emotions running through his head and they were all screaming in despair yet all he could think was how could his father even think of doing something so horrid like this. "Perhaps he always had this on his mind ever since mom died, and he was just waiting for the legal age". Those were some of Yukito's thoughts while trying to process the drama on his front. In a certain way, he always knew he was a burden to Takeshi, but he did not know his father would take this to an extreme level.
Upon saying what he needed to say, Takeshi only gave him some days to pack his things and leave the house as soon as he could, he also gave Yukito the freedom to grab anything he wanted as a last gift he would receive on his life from him. And then after finishing talking, Takeshi left the house back to his car, and back to work at his hospital, leaving Yukito hopeless about what would even happen next. Losing his mother and now his father was something he could have never expected, but again he didn't let this affect him, he could only try to move forward and think positively for the sake of his mother's memories. After having finished packing his things, he grabbed his car's keys and went back to his library. Despite Takeshi having told him to take whatever he wanted before leaving, Yukito only took the necessary, such as clothes, personal items, and Aletheia, which he carried with him most of the time, unlike the other books stored inside his library for the public to read.
The situation seemed bad, but it wasn't fully the end, he had a job that paid well enough for him to do nothing, a car, and a considerable amount of cash in his account. The only thing missing was the absence of a house for him to stay, this being a problem he still needed to solve later. Upon setting his things in a locked room of the building temporarily, Yukito sat on his desk and began writing about his living narrative world with his feather pen.
It was when his writing was interrupted by a sudden blackout in the building and in the entire city, for some reason he could not hear anything outside but the extremely dead silence and the wind howling on a starry night. Yukito tried activating the energy fuel emergency to restore the building's light, but it did not have an effect and all his efforts seemed to be useless. While thinking about what to do, he heard the annoying noise of claws scratching through the floor outside of his desk, initially being far but slowly becoming louder as if it was approaching his location. This caused Yukito to start panicking, what could be the author of this creepy noise?
The worst scenarios crossed his mind as the noise became louder and louder, with every step also getting louder as well. The air around Yukito also became colder and the environment darker and darker with every step of the unknown thing. Yukito could only back away in fear and remain seated on the chair, his eyes being now taken by the sudden despair as his heart began pounding fast with the creepy situation happening. It was when the steps stopped next to the door, and slowly began spinning the door's handle and opening it as Yukito could only watch with frightened eyes. As the door opened, it revealed itself to be an eldritch horror entity, having its body sewn in all parts with pieces of cloth. The creature was about 2 meters tall, with long arms and sharp claws that could explain the loud noise of scratches, it also had a crown made of sewing needles stabbed into its head
Yukito could not believe what he was seeing, for the first time he was facing something he would never expect to happen to him outside of Aletheia. Throughout his entire life, he had written many different tales, both wholesome and horrific, but he never expected those situations to happen in real life and right in front of his eyes. The entity would then start walking again towards him, the fear becoming more and more constant on Yukito as he tried his best to "undo" the situation that was happening. Each step the entity gave became more and more stressful for Yukito to even think of solutions to escape the moment. It was only when the entity stopped right in front of Yukito, that the environment became surrounded by golden flames as the eldritch entity remained silent and still before what was happening. As the fire spread all over the place, Yukito only gave the entity a serious look and pronounced the words "No more fearing" as the building was consumed by the fire
Yukito then opened his eyes and looked around only to notice the building was still there, there was no more the entity he saw, and neither the fire as if It never happened. He then grabbed his phone only to realize he had fallen asleep on his desk while writing on his narrative. When looking at the pages, Yukito realized the corruption in them, together with the pencil drawing of the creepy entity he saw in his dream. But this strange event wasn't merely a dream, it felt real to him. For the first time, Yukito closed his eyes and meditated on his desk, feeling the environment around him change as he focused. It was when he discovered he was in a story, not only that, but a sephiroth called Prime Dimension.
The "Prime Dimension" or the "True World" as it was called, was a plane of existence that transcended all Primary Webs, also being the sephiroth's lowest sphere. The Prime Dimension would be described as looking exactly like our real-life universe, with humans and the planet Earth as well. This sphere is also known as "mankind's peak" being the highest point of the hierarchy for the concept of humanity, the true place where one could ascend and become a true person beyond the fourth wall, being no longer bound by the narratives of the tree as well.
The Prime Dimension was divided into two planes; the Material World and the Astral Plane. The Material World is where the true people reside and exist, the world they can perceive and interact with. While the Material World was the light side where humans interact and exist, the other side of the coin is where the darkness and the supernatural touch. The Astral Plane is the side humans cannot perceive, being the spiritual reflection of the material world inhabited by spirits embodying concepts, emotions, and aspects of nature.
The Astral Plane is often influenced by humans in the material world through their emotions and desires, even a single thought, be it negative or positive, is manifested in the Astral Plane. Humans would often project themselves through reality to tap into the Astral Plane. The nature of the Astral Plane would be often described as "detrimental" and "deadly" as any thought automatically manifests within this plane, any negative thought can become reality and attack the user who's projecting themselves. More expert users when projecting will have better self-control and trained aura to avoid deadly thoughts while in the Astral Plane.
Upon finishing analyzing and studying reality, Yukito finally understood the situation that just happened. He somehow tapped into the Astral Plane through his emotions during his sleep. His imagination added to the traumas and negative thoughts were quickly molded in the astral plane, which allowed a grotesque creature to materialize from his imagination. But Yukito knew deep down it could not hurt him after all, they were only narratives to him, as he now could perceive the full details and aspects of the prime dimension, he finally understood how his world finally worked, even if his existence was nothing but an ink in a paper. Right when Yukito was gonna document everything he discovered, he received a call from one of his friends, Mikaela, saying that she had found a cheap place for him to rent and stay in.
Losing no more time, Yukito went to grab his things and left his library upon closing the doors due to being late in the night. While driving to his new lair, the thoughts of what just happened to him could not leave his mind alone as he was being haunted by his demons and traumas of the past. He knew that what he saw could never represent a threat to him if he didn't want it to be, yet, he could not stop thinking how broken and sad he deeply was to accidentally materialize such a thing into reality. The entity was materialized through his traumas and fears, the very negative emotions he developed over the years while trying to use the writing as a way to escape his problems and traumas of losing his mother.
Someone could argue that he should have taken this to a therapist in the past, but Yukito never felt like opening himself to a therapist or psychologist because he considered his head to be extremely problematic and puzzled for even a simple specialist to understand him fully. The fact of writing stories and worlds of RPG was, alone, the only good thing Yukito had in his entire life given that his father was fully absent in all his important moments. And now all the negativity he stored and tried to ignore was being materialized and projected into the real world because of him, and he knew that, but he couldn't afford to care at the moment due to his tiredness as he only focused on driving and arriving at the destination pointed out by Mikaela
"Hey, are you alright, Yuki? You look exhausted," Mika asked, her brows knitting together with concern.
Yukito pulled the car into park, his movements slow and deliberate. As he stepped out, the cold mask he had worn for so long softened—he was finally starting to understand himself.
"Yeah... I will be," he murmured, shutting the car door with a quiet click. His gaze met hers. "Thanks for everything, Mika. It really means a lot to me that you're here."
Mika smiled, stepping closer. "You know we're best friends. You can tell me anything." She reached for his hands, squeezing them gently.
Yukito hesitated. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but inside, uncertainty churned. How could he even begin to explain what he had discovered? That everything—his memories, his choices—might not have been his own? But Mika had been by his side for years. If there was anyone he could trust, it was her.
"What would you say if you found out you were in a story? That everything you've done so far... was just part of a narrative?"
Mika blinked, tilting her head. For a moment, confusion flickered across her face—but then she laughed softly. "That'd be kind of funny, actually. Maybe even cool. At least I'd know what happens after death. No need to cling to beliefs or faiths." She shrugged, her expression light, as if the idea didn't faze her. "Are we in one?"
Yukito exhaled, glancing away for a second before nodding. "Uhm... well... something like that, yeah."
Yukito and Mika sat in his new house, the dim glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. He had just finished settling his things on the table when the conversation took a turn—one that shook Mika to her core.
She had always known her friend was different, that he possessed abilities beyond human comprehension. But what he was saying now… it defied everything she thought she understood about reality.
Mika paced near the window, arms crossed, her brows furrowed in deep contemplation.
"So you're saying everything—our world, our thoughts, even our stories—it's all part of some massive, tangled web of fiction?"
Yukito leaned back in his chair, his expression calm, almost detached. "Yes. But the Prime Dimension is different. We live in a world divided between two sides, in which we can only perceive one side, while the other remains obscure and hidden."
Mika stopped, her breath hitching slightly. "But if that's true, then…" She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Are we being watched?"
Before Yukito could answer, the lights flickered, and a low hum filled the air.
Mika's head snapped toward the window. Outside, black SUVs rolled to a stop, their tinted windows swallowing the dim streetlights. A second later—
BANG!
The door burst open.
Men in black tactical gear swarmed inside, weapons raised, their movements sharp and precise.
A figure stepped forward, his voice cold and unwavering. "Suzuki Yukito. You're coming with us."
Mika instinctively moved in front of him, her stance defiant. But before she could say a word, Yukito placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. His expression remained eerily composed.
"Took you long enough," he mused, stepping forward. "I expected the government to act faster. And I thought they'd send someone important."
A rifle butt slammed into his stomach. The impact forced him to his knees, yet his calm expression didn't fade. Before Mika could react, they cuffed him, dragging him toward the waiting vehicles. He was then taken to the Pentagon, where he would be interrogated in a small white room
The room was oddly small, with just two chairs in the center and a table in the middle for the interrogation, his hands were trapped in the table with the handcuffs
Yukito just sat there, his wrists secured, yet his expression carried a quiet serenity. Across from him stood Dr. Jack, one of the Pentagon's brightest minds. His gaze was sharp, his posture rigid.
"You'll tell me everything," Jack said, his voice devoid of warmth. "One way or another."
Yukito sighed, tilting his head slightly. "Everything? But I already have."
Jack frowned. "What?"
A glint of mischief flickered in Yukito's eyes. "The moment I walked in, you told me everything I needed to know. The fact that you're interrogating me instead of executing me means you're missing something—something you think I have."
Jack's fingers twitched. He hated mind games. "You're stalling."
Yukito gave a deadpanned expression. "Am I? Let's test that."
He exhaled, shifting slightly in his seat. "The guards outside the door—one's left-handed, the other right-handed. The left-handed one is slightly slower; I could tell by how he shifted his rifle when we entered. That means if I were to escape—hypothetically—I'd veer right."
Jack clenched his jaw. "That doesn't—"
"And then there's you." Yukito's voice remained calm, effortless. "You're wearing a Mark IV combat suit, reinforced at the joints. It reduces mobility, meaning you expect a fight but aren't confident you'd win without armor."
He leaned forward slightly. "Now, your biggest mistake was the way you spoke to me. 'One way or another'—that implies multiple methods of interrogation. Which means you're on a time limit. Someone higher up is waiting for my intel, and you don't have time to break me properly."
Jack remained silent, but the subtle tightening of his jaw confirmed everything Yukito needed to know.
A soft chuckle escaped him. "Oh. Oh, I see. You needed me alive because the real information isn't something I know—it's something only I can deduce." His eyes gleamed with realization. "Your superior must have given you incomplete data about what I discovered, expecting me to piece it together, that means there's a leak in your command structure. One of your officers already knows the answer, but they're hiding it."
Jack's pupils dilated. That wasn't possible. He's bluffing. He has to be.
"You think you're in control here, kid?" Jack growled.
The air shifted. The walls flickered.
The sterile interrogation chamber morphed—cold metal twisted into aged stone, the floor darkening into rusted grates. A prison.
Jack's voice remained steady. "I decide when this is over."
Yukito's gaze flickered toward the scientist's chest, a small smile forming. "Is that a Narratech embedded in your suit?"
Jack stiffened.
"Ah," Yukito exhaled knowingly. "You're using a device that lets you control the story. Which means you already know what I know... just not the full picture."
Jack's grip tightened. "We've nullified your abilities. You shouldn't be able to—"
"Nullified?" Yukito gave a thoughtful expression. "Try again."
The prison walls shattered—the illusion peeled away like paper, revealing the research facility once more.
Jack's breath caught. "N-no. This is impossible. You—"
"You still don't get it, do you?" Yukito said, rising from the chair, the handcuffs falling away like they were never there.
Jack scrambled back, his heart racing. "Security! Sedate him—"
Yukito sighed. "That won't be necessary. They're all asleep now."
Jack froze. The entire facility was silent.
Yukito turned toward the exit, his presence shifting, becoming something unreal. "Don't take me bad doc, I mean you're super cool and all, but the government isn't in control of my story. I am the author here. And you?" He glanced over his shoulder, his form already beginning to fade into a swirling mist.
"You're just a secondary character."
With that, he was gone like he was never there, leaving Dr. Jack in shock and without knowing what to do, no tech he had would manage to track down Yukito again, and with what just happened, it proved they needed alternative methods to deal with Yukito. No matter, the situation seemed to be calmed and already solved, at least for Yukito who managed to escape the pentagon.
The night was cold. A thin mist curled around the Pentagon's perimeter, illuminated by the glow of streetlights. The world felt still—too still.
Mika stood by the curb, arms wrapped around herself, her breath visible in the chilly air. She had been waiting. Hoping.
Then, the mist stirred.
A silhouette emerged from the fog, footsteps silent against the pavement.
Yukito.
He walked toward her, his usual composure intact, though there was something different about him—something heavier in his eyes, as if he had glimpsed something beyond what even he had expected.
Mika let out a shaky breath. "Yuki, you managed to escape, did they do anything to you???"
Yukito offered a faint smile. "I always knew the government was looking and spying on me, but I never cared to deal with them or do anything, with everything I have been going through, I think they were my last priority to be honest."
She shook her head, tension still lingering in her shoulders but calming more once she figured he was okay. "Are you gonna be okay Yuki?"
He smiled a bit before answering "I will be yeah, I just gotta settle my place and solve the issues with my mind before anything else."
For a moment, silence settled between them. The city hummed in the distance, the occasional car passing by. But here, in this small pocket of reality, it was just them.
Mika clenched her fists. "You could have told me before still, I could have helped you before Yuki."
Yukito exhaled softly, stepping closer. "But you did help Mika, more than you realize." He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch warm against the night air. "I'm sorry for not having told you before, I didn't wanna put you in danger, or even deal with those things I need to deal with every day. It was unfair of me to take this decision talking with you first."
She looked up at him, searching his face. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
He nodded. "Yeah..for now, I need to settle things down, but once I manage to settle things, I will definitely tell you the rest I discovered. You're the only person I would trust something like this, you know that."
Mika bit her lip, a small frustration flickering in her eyes but deep down she had understood his decision. "Heh yeah I figured you would do that, you always do this, you try to carry more than what you need to take."
Yukito chuckled lightly. "I know. And I promise, this time, I'll explain everything. Just… let me settle my head first. Today's been—" He sighed, rubbing his temple. "A lot."
She hesitated, then nodded. "I get it. But you better keep that promise."
His smile returned, tired but genuine. "I wouldn't dare break it."
A pause. The weight of unspoken words hung between them.
Then, without thinking, Mika stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. A brief, tight embrace—one that said all the things words couldn't.
Yukito didn't pull away. Instead, he closed his eyes for just a second, allowing himself to be present in the moment.
When she finally let go, he took a step back, his form already beginning to fade into the mist once more. "I'll see you soon, Mika."
She watched as he disappeared, the fog swallowing him whole.
And then, she was alone again, staring into the empty night.
But this time, she knew—he would come back, just like he always did
As Yukito disappeared, he teleported back to his place before the agents took him to the Pentagon. And so he made his way through the door, closing it shortly after entering.
The house was barren, its silence pressing against the walls like an unwelcome guest. The absence of furniture explained why it had been so cheap, but Yukito hardly cared. Price and comfort were irrelevant to him now.
He climbed the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls. His new room was just as lifeless as the rest of the house—four walls, a window, and nothing more. He stood in the center, setting his bag down before closing his eyes.
And then, he imagined.
The air rippled, the fabric of reality bending to his will. Shadows stretched, twisted, then took form—familiar shelves lined with books, a sturdy wooden desk near the window, the soft embrace of a bed he once knew. Every detail arranged itself into place, mirroring the room he had called home before. By the time he opened his eyes, it was done.
He exhaled, running a hand over the desk before pulling out his notebook. He sat down, flipping through the pages, stopping at the one space that had always remained untouched.
A shadow loomed behind him.
He did not flinch. He did not react. The eldritch presence coiled at his back, its form unnatural, shifting, waiting. He had spent years fearing it, running from it. Not tonight.
Dipping his pen into ink, Yukito pressed it to paper.
The corrupted pages welcomed his touch as he wrote with steady precision, inscribing the title that had haunted him for so long:
The Sewed King.
The ink darkened, seeping into the pages like veins of something alive. The presence behind him writhed. Flames—golden, pure—ignited along its form, consuming it. No screams, no resistance. Only acceptance.
Yukito watched as it burned, but his heart did not waver.
The Sewed King had once been his torment, a wound that refused to heal. But now, it was nothing more than words on a page—a story bound by his own will. The weight that had crushed him for so long had lifted. Not vanished, not forgotten, but transformed.
His mother's death was never his fault. He understood that now. And even though Takeshi had cast him away, Yukito no longer carried the pain of being unwanted. He had made peace with it. Neither the government, nor what his father did mattered now, he was finally at peace with himself, for the first time in years, he breathed without chains around his heart.
Yukito closed the notebook, placed it on the desk, and lay down on the bed. He knew that from wherever she was watching, she was proud of her little boy, and that was the only thing that mattered to him.
The eternal love of a mother.