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Chapter 10 – What Have I Become?
The house was too quiet.
Hitachi sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes glued to the floor like they were chained there. His fingers twitched, occasionally curling into trembling fists, then loosening again. Across the room, his grandfather paced back and forth like a man searching for a way out of a nightmare. His lips moved, but the words he mumbled were meant for ghosts, not for Hitachi.
The silence wasn't peace.
It was fear pretending to be calm.
The air felt thick—too heavy to breathe. Every tick of the old wall clock sounded like a gunshot.
Hitachi's chest rose and fell with short, sharp breaths.
He didn't know if the shaking in his hands came from the aftershock of what happened at school or from something much darker. Something ancient, buried, and now awake. Whatever it was—it wasn't human. And it wasn't him. At least, not the Hitachi he used to be.
Jack hadn't even hit the floor properly.
He'd bounced. His body had spun like a ragdoll, smacking against a desk with a sickening crunch. It was like the laws of gravity had been rewritten in a split second just to make that moment possible. Just to show the world what Hitachi was truly capable of.
And it had taken only one finger.
One flick.
His heart hadn't stopped racing since. He could still hear the gasps from the students. The silence that followed. The fear in their eyes. Not just fear of what they saw—but fear of him.
The room felt colder.
His grandfather finally sat down with a groan, rubbing his forehead like the weight of the world had been placed there. His breathing was shallow, tired.
"You shouldn't have gone back," the old man said quietly, as if his words might break something fragile in the air.
Hitachi looked up, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I thought… I thought I was okay. The voices were gone. I felt normal."
The old man shook his head. "No, no. This isn't just about the voices anymore. It's bigger than that now."
He stood up again, resuming his pacing like something inside him refused to sit still. Like if he stopped moving, the truth might crush him.
"I should've known this day would come. I should've prepared better. I should've—"
"Prepared for what?" Hitachi interrupted, confusion and fear in his voice.
His grandfather stopped walking. For a second, he stood still, as if deciding whether to lie or tell the truth.
Then his shoulders sagged, his back curling with invisible weight.
"The Underworld," he said. "The war. The attack. The reason… the reason the Shadow King chose you."
Hitachi blinked. "You said that name before. The Shadow King. What does it mean?"
The old man sat again, slower this time. But this time he looked straight into Hitachi's eyes.
His expression was empty of excuses.
"The Underworld was falling apart," he said. "Something attacked them—something powerful. Not Heaven. Not angels. Not demons. Something older. Something none of them had ever seen. The Shadow King, ruler of the Underworld, was desperate. His world was being ripped open. He needed to protect the seal—the one thing that keeps the Underworld from collapsing into madness."
Hitachi swallowed hard. "So he hid it inside me?"
His grandfather nodded, guilt spreading across his face like a shadow.
"He made a deal with me."
Hitachi's voice cracked. "What kind of deal?"
The old man looked away. "I let him place the seal inside you. You became the key to the demon realm. The gate. I thought it would keep you safe. You were just a sick little boy. No one would expect you to carry something so dangerous."
"But I didn't ask for this," Hitachi whispered.
"I know. And I'm sorry. I thought I was protecting you. But now that your power's awakening… they'll feel it. They'll sense it. They'll come for you."
The room seemed to shrink around them. The couch. The walls. The ceiling.
Hitachi leaned back, chest rising with panic. "So I'm not me? I'm just… a hiding place?"
"No," the old man said quickly, reaching toward him. "You're more than that. You're still my boy. You still have your soul. But they're inside you now. That power… that darkness… it's not sleeping anymore. You can't let anyone see it again. Do you understand me?"
Hitachi didn't answer.
Then—came the knock.
Three sharp bangs on the front door.
The old man's eyes darted to the sound.
Another knock.
Hitachi stood halfway. "Should we open—"
"Get behind me," his grandfather snapped.
Then came a voice. Deep. Controlled.
"This is the FBI. Open the door. Now."
Hitachi froze.
"What…?"
His grandfather swore under his breath. "The school. The CCTV. They must've seen what happened."
Another voice followed, calm and smooth like oil.
"Sir, we're not here to hurt anyone. We just want to talk to the boy. Please cooperate."
Still, the old man didn't move. His fists clenched at his sides.
"They know," he whispered. "They saw too much."
Another bang. More forceful.
"If you don't open this door, we will enter by force. Please don't make this harder than it has to be."
The old man cursed again under his breath. Slowly, he reached for the doorknob and pulled it open with a creak.
Five men stood outside. All dressed in black suits. Sunglasses. Earpieces. Their hands hovered near the inside of their jackets, where their weapons waited. Two black armored vans sat in the street behind them like predators watching quietly.
One man stepped forward.
"Mr. Kojiro?"
The old man nodded stiffly.
"We've come for your grandson."
"You're not taking him."
The man didn't react. "Sir, this isn't a negotiation. What he did in that classroom—it was supernatural. He's not safe. Not for others. Not even for himself. We can help him control it."
The old man stepped forward. "By locking him away in a cage? Like an animal?"
Another agent moved forward, holding a black briefcase. He clicked it open.
Stacks of money. Crisp, untouched.
"We'll take care of you both. New life. New names. New home. You'll never have to worry about anything again."
Kojiro looked at the money. Then slammed the case shut so hard it echoed through the house.
"I said no."
The lead agent sighed.
"I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this."
He nodded.
Two agents rushed past him—straight toward Hitachi.
"Stay away from him!" the old man yelled, stepping in their path.
One agent shoved him.
Kojiro crashed to the floor, crying out in pain.
"GRANDPA!" Hitachi screamed, lunging forward.
But the agents grabbed him. Cold hands. Tight grips.
"No! Let me go!"
Then came the weapon.
A silver rod with glowing blue lines. Smooth and deadly.
The agent pressed it to Hitachi's chest.
ZAP!
A burst of pain. Electricity flooding every nerve. His muscles seized. His eyes rolled back.
He didn't scream.
He couldn't.
He collapsed to the floor, body twitching.
And then—darkness.
---
When he opened his eyes, the silence was different.
It wasn't empty. It was… wrong.
The room looked the same. The furniture, the carpet, the pictures on the wall.
But something had changed.
Six bodies.
All on the floor.
Blood smeared across the couch. On the walls. Pooling under broken limbs.
The agent with the rod was bent backward over a shattered table, his spine twisted like a rope. His face frozen in horror.
The others were scattered like toys dropped by a careless child.
Hitachi sat up slowly. His clothes were torn. His chest ached. His hands… were clean.
But the room told another story.
He didn't remember doing this. He remembered the pain. The flash. The darkness.
And now… death.
He turned toward the corner.
His grandfather was there—pressed against the wall like a cornered animal. His eyes wide, staring, skin pale.
"Grandpa…" Hitachi whispered.
The old man flinched.
"Don't," he said, his voice thin. "Don't come near me."
Hitachi's stomach twisted. "It's me. I—I didn't mean to…"
"You didn't just stop them," Kojiro said. "You erased them. Without lifting a finger."
"I don't remember it," Hitachi said. "I blacked out—"
The old man looked into his eyes. What Hitachi saw there wasn't pain.
It was terror.
Terror of him.
Something cracked inside the boy. Something deep.
He looked at his hands. Normal. Flesh. Skin.
But they felt heavier now.
Like something ancient had finally woken up.
"I didn't ask for this," he whispered.
Kojiro said nothing.
"I just wanted to be normal."
Still nothing.
"I just… wanted to live."
Tears burned his eyes, but they refused to fall.
Because something was changing.
He could feel it. The pain wasn't just pain anymore.
It was a voice. A name. A presence.
The monster.
The one who whispered to him.
The one who said he would protect him.
Had he done this?
Was it him?
Or was this… Hitachi now?
The boy. The gate. The curse.
The weapon.
He looked one last time at his grandfather.
Begging. Pleading. Silent.
But Kojiro turned his face away.
And in that moment, Hitachi knew.
The boy he used to be was gone.
And in his place stood something else.
Something powerful.
Something feared.
Something not entirely human.
He wasn't alone anymore.
But maybe… he never had been.