Chapter 2: Live in the Present
As Kenichi moved forward into the Hall of Echoes, all he could see was a narrow stone path surrounded by shifting walls, forming and dissolving with each step he took.
He kept walking cautiously.
Then—voices.
They started faintly, like whispers inside his mind. But soon, they grew louder, more distorted.
A man's angry voice:"He's The Cause Of All This."
The roar of fire.The crackle of burning wood.A firetruck's siren wailing in the distance.
A woman's cold voice:"Just look at his eyes—still staring at us."
Another man, laughing cruelly:" Yeah, this kid's not right. He should just die or something."
A softer, more familiar voice—this one pleading:" Leave him alone! He didn't do anything. He's justa child!"
The walls of the hall pulsed with every word, and the echoes layered into a deafening cacophony.
Kenichi clutched his head. The noise was unbearable. Memories… accusations… guilt. All of it crashing down at once.
Tears fell from his eyes, and he collapsed to the ground.
But the voices didn't stop.
Even unconscious, they invaded his dreams.
In his mind, a new scene formed—bright, warm, innocent.
Kenichi blinked.
He was no longer himself. He looked down and saw the hands of a child. Seven… maybe eight years old.
And standing beside him was a little girl.
She smiled and tugged at his sleeve."What happened, Kenichi?C'mon! Let's finish the game!"
They were in a cozy living room. Toys scattered around. Laughter still lingered in the air.
Kenichi felt a strange warmth in his chest. For a moment, the pain and fear faded.
He remembered her.
His sister.
He looked around and realized they were alone at home. Their parents weren't there.
"Kenichi!" she shouted again, pouting."Stop spacing out. We were playing!"
Kenichi blinked and smiled faintly."Ah—yeah. Sorry. What were we playing again?"
She giggled. "You keep forgetting stuff lately!"
But then—something shifted.
The scent of smoke.
The faint hiss of gas.
Kenichi's head snapped toward the kitchen.
His sister stood up and walked toward it.
"Wait—don't!" he shouted, but it was too late.
The explosion hit like a thunderclap.
Flames surged from the kitchen, engulfing everything. His sister was thrown back, trapped beneath debris.
"Kenichi!!" she screamed, coughing.
He rushed in, tears in his eyes, desperately trying to lift the fallen planks. Fire danced around them.
"Don't worry about me," she sobbed. "Just run! You'll be fine!"
"No!" Kenichi screamed. "If I'm going, we're going together!"
She stared at him through the flames, her face streaked with soot and tears.
"Please… just go!" she yelled.
Another beam fell. He couldn't reach her.
He screamed. Cried. Begged.
But there was nothing he could do.
Broken, he stumbled out of the burning house.
As he exited, the cold night hit his face.
And he saw them—neighbors, strangers, a crowd.
All staring.
No one moving to help.
Some whispering.
Some glaring.
Judging.
The next days were worse.
His parents stopped speaking to him. His father's eyes held nothing but blame. His mother cried in silence but never touched him again.
At school, he became a ghost. Whispers followed him everywhere. "That's the kid from the fire."
"They say he let her die."
"Creepy eyes. He probably did it on purpose."
Friends avoided him. Teachers offered pity, but not understanding. He was alone.
He began forgetting things—not out of carelessness, but because his mind couldn't handle the pain. Whole days passed like static. Nights were worse. Dreams bled into waking hours.
Only one teacher had tried to help. Mr. Tsuda. He'd defended Kenichi in class once. Said people should stop judging what they didn't understand.
But just when Kenichi began to hope again—Mr. Tsuda left. Transferred. Gone.
That was the final crack.
One day, years later, the memories too heavy and the world too quiet, Kenichi climbed to the top of an abandoned building.
He looked down from the edge, the city distant and gray below him.
The wind blew past his face as he stood in silence.
And just as he leaned forward to fall—
time shattered.
Everything froze.
The moment between life and death stretched endlessly. The world stopped. The wind, the sounds, even the beating of his heart.
The sky turned red.
The ground shifted, but only slightly. It looked like the rooftop—but there was something wrong. Something unreal. Like the space itself had changed. It wasn't the real world anymore.
He was lying on the floor—his body broken, blood around him. Yet, he was standing, too. Conscious. Aware.
This wasn't Earth.
It wasn't death.
It was somewhere else entirely.
The Forbidden Realm—taking the shape of the place where his soul had been closest to breaking.
Now, in the Hall of Echoes, those memories swirled like a storm.
The mist thickened. Shapes formed again—blurry silhouettes whispering his past, dragging guilt into light.
Kenichi fell to his knees, overwhelmed.
Tears streamed down his face, but not just from pain. From remembrance. From understanding.
And yet—
He didn't blame the white entity. Not really.
He had walked into the Hall of Echoes knowing what he'd face. He had made the choice.
"I remember now," he whispered.
A glow formed ahead—a soft, floating shard of crystal.
One of the fragments.
Kenichi stepped forward, hand outstretched.
The moment his fingers touched it, light exploded outward.
And somewhere, deep in the heart of the Forbidden Realm—a piece of him awakened.
Pain had shaped him. But now, it no longer owned him.
To Walk The Path He Has Chosen He Has To Let The Past Go
To Be Continued...