The Withering Fields

Cloud was on his knees, his breathing ragged as Takahiro walked up to him. His vision blurred slightly, exhaustion weighing down every fiber of his body. The fox beside Takahiro shimmered, its form flickering like a mirage before seamlessly merging into him, disappearing as if it had never existed.

Takahiro crouched in front of Cloud, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "I guess you really are willing to do anything it takes." His voice was calm, yet there was an undertone of approval. "Even I get tired walking uphill, let alone with a condition such as yours."

Cloud tilted his head back, looking up at the vast sky above, the gray clouds slowly gathering. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. "Why did I feel so drawn towards you?"

Takahiro hummed in amusement. "Hmm? Well, some say that people are drawn to what they desire… You're weak, so naturally, you're seeking out the strong. Not to toot my own horn, but my foxfire is significantly stronger than yours."

A raindrop softly struck Cloud's forehead, cool against his fevered skin. He closed his eyes briefly before speaking. "That fox… that was you. You called out to me. Why?"

Takahiro sighed as he stood, rolling his shoulders as if shedding an invisible weight. "Because I have a dream too, and I need help to achieve it. I believe our dreams can work together. But I must ask you again—what is your dream?"

Cloud lowered his gaze, his expression tightening. "I already told you… to become an Ascendant and show everyone that I'm not weak."

Takahiro stepped away, moving under the shelter of his wooden house as the rain grew heavier. He turned back, his silhouette darkened by the dimming light.

"That's your weakness speaking," he said, his voice quieter but no less firm. "You may want to become an Ascendant, but if it's only to show people that you're not weak, then that's exactly what you will be… A dream built out of spite isn't really a dream—it's hate. A dedicated hate that only aims to change how others see you, just for the sake of proving them wrong."

…

For a moment, only the sound of raindrops filled the space between them.

Then Takahiro reached for the door. "Tell me your real dream, Cloud, and I will help you achieve it." With that, he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him, leaving Cloud alone in the downpour.

Cloud exhaled, the breath shaking as it left him. He slowly pushed himself up from the mud and stumbled toward a nearby tree. With a groan, he sank down against its trunk, the rough bark pressing against his back as he took what little shelter he could find. Droplets rolled off his damp hair, his fingers curling into the damp earth.

"A real dream? What's the difference?" he whispered, the question barely escaping his lips.

The rain continued to fall, and as he pondered, his body betrayed him, pulling him into the depths of sleep.

***

Present Time

Cloud and Kai finally exited the valley from the other side. The jagged cliffs and barren, rocky land gradually gave way to an expanse of yellow grass, dry and brittle beneath their feet. The wind whispered through the field, bending the stalks in synchronized waves, their rustling almost like distant voices. It was strangely beautiful in Cloud's eyes—something he never thought he'd find in a realm so steeped in death and despair.

They pressed forward, their footsteps muffled by the thick grass, which reached up to their waists in some areas. The air carried a faint scent of earth and decay, yet there was an eerie serenity to the place.

"Welcome to the Withering Fields," Kai said in a low voice, his tone unreadable.

A heavy silence settled over them as they ventured deeper. The golden hues of the grass stretched endlessly in all directions, the occasional skeletal remains of twisted trees breaking the monotony. The further they walked, the more Cloud's mind buzzed with curiosity, the quiet gnawing at him.

Few words were exchanged, but that quickly changed.

"So, how many times have you been here before? The Yokai Realm, I mean..." Cloud asked, glancing at Kai.

Kai gave him a sideways glance, his golden eyes flickering with something unreadable. "I don't really keep count."

"Oh... You called this place 'The Withering Fields.' I didn't know there were named regions in the Yokai Realm."

Kai huffed, his gaze shifting toward the distant horizon. "Well, it's only something you'd know after coming here a few times and hearing about it. There are many small regions, much smaller than the ones in the real realm. They're all very different too, but you'll come to understand that each time you return."

Cloud nodded, adjusting the weight of his bag before rummaging through it. He pulled out a piece of hardened bread and held it out toward Kai.

Kai shook his head. "You need that more than me, and I already ate a while ago."

Cloud shrugged and took a bite himself. As he chewed on the stale bread, a strange sensation washed over him. He hadn't taken his mask off, yet the food had passed through effortlessly. His chewing slowed, his hands inspecting the bread as a perplexed expression crossed his face.

Kai chuckled, glancing back at him. "It's not the bread, idiot. It's the mask. You can pass things through it—at least, anything you're holding. It phases through, like it's not even there."

He stepped in front of Cloud and flicked the mask lightly. A dull tap echoed. "But other people can't. Just you. Fortunately convenient, I'd say. The gods must've thought it through."

Cloud frowned behind the mask, feeling the lingering warmth of the bread on his tongue, yet no sensation of it actually passing through his mask.

'It feels so weird eating like this. I can feel it on my face, but the food just goes through...' he thought as they resumed their walk.

The wind howled through the grass, creating the illusion of whispers. At first, Cloud dismissed it as the breeze playing tricks on his ears. But then—

"Hello."

A woman's voice. Soft. Delicate. Unnerving.

Both Cloud and Kai stopped abruptly, the tension in the air sharpening.

"Help me!" The voice cried out louder this time, the desperation in its tone palpable.

Cloud turned toward the source, his heart quickening. In the distance, beyond the swaying grass, a faint silhouette wavered like a mirage. Without thinking, he took a step forward.

"Don't move, Cloud."

Kai's hand clamped firmly on his shoulder.

Cloud turned to him, frowning. "What are you doing? She needs our help."

Kai let out a weary sigh, his head tilting downward slightly. When he spoke again, his voice was edged with something close to pity.

"That's not a real person."

***

A Few Weeks Earlier

"Somebody help!!"

A distressed voice ripped through the haze of Cloud's slumber, jolting him awake. His heart pounded as he scrambled to his feet, eyes scanning the darkness of the rain-soaked terrain. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the sound, his legs aching but his mind sharp.

Pushing through the thick misty air, he came upon a clearing where two men with cold, dead eyes loomed over a small elderly woman clutching a wicker basket. They both had torn clothing wrapped around their faces, masking their identity.

"Give it to us, lady! We don't want to cut you up, but we will if you make us."

The woman stumbled backward, fear widening her wrinkled eyes. "Please, don't hurt me."

Cloud didn't think. He simply moved.

A second later, he was airborne, both feet aimed at the first bandit's chest. The impact sent the man crashing into his partner, both of them tumbling into the mud. Cloud barely touched the ground before scooping up the old lady, carrying her on his back despite being barely taller than her and much skinnier. He turned and ran, his breath ragged as the bandits quickly regained their footing and gave chase.

"You better give us the old lady, kid, or we'll rip your guts out!"

The threats meant nothing. He pushed forward, the rain turning the dirt beneath his feet into treacherous mud. The meadow was in sight, just a few more steps—

He slipped.

His feet lost their grip, and he twisted mid-fall, shielding the old woman with his body as they hit the ground hard. Pain flared through his side, but he gritted his teeth, pushing through the dizziness.

The bandits were upon him now, standing over him with cruel smirks.

"You're pretty weak, aren't you, kid?" one of them sneered. "Your foxfire is barely visible. I'm pretty sure she could put up a better fight than you."

Suddenly, both men stiffened as an icy chill crawled down their spines. Their heads snapped around.

Takahiro stood behind them, holding an umbrella, his presence as calm as it was terrifying.