Chapter 5: The Weight of the Soul

  The morning at the temple began with the rhythmic sound of a broom against the courtyard stones. Haru hadn't been able to sleep much; every time he closed his eyes, he saw the purple fire consuming his horse. He stared at his hands constantly, searching for that green glow that now felt extinguished, like an ember beneath the rain.

  "Stop staring at your hands as if gold were going to grow out of them, rookie!" Mugen’s shout shattered the silence.

  Mugen appeared through the main hallway, his brow still furrowed. Although he wore clean clothes, his presence felt electric, irritated. As usual, he was grumpy, and seeing Haru with that look of doubt only made his mood worse.

  "If you can't manifest your tool, it's because your spirit is as soft as a soaked noodle," Mugen growled as he sat on the edge of the wooden porch, arms crossed. "Master! Where is he? He said there’d be real training today!"

  "Ho-ho-ho! What energy so early!" Ren stepped out, accompanied by temple assistants carrying food.

  "Are you ready for your lesson today, boy?" Ren asked, looking at Haru with warmth.

  "Y... yes," Haru whispered.

  "Good. Today we train, and tonight we will all enter a nightmare together. I will teach you how to absorb the essence of nightmares," Ren commented before beginning to eat.

  It was a chicken broth with spices and vegetables.

  Haru took the bowl with both hands, letting the steam warm his face. Although the aroma was delicious, his stomach felt tight. Ren’s mention of going into a nightmare "all together" that very night made him even more nervous.

  "All together?" Haru repeated, looking at Yumi and then at Mugen.

  "That's right, kid," Kumiho remarked before sitting down to eat.

  "Tsk! Don't get your hopes up, rookie," Mugen growled, slurping his broth noisily. "If we're all going, it's because the Master expects something problematic, or he just wants us to make sure you don't die in the first five minutes and foul up the dream plane with your fear."

  Mugen was clearly irritated. Since he is so short-tempered, the fact that he had to share a mission with a beginner and the "show-off" Yumi had kept him in a foul mood since sunrise. To him, group missions only meant more people getting in his way.

  "Eat well," Ren said, ignoring Mugen's huffs. "Absorbing essence isn't just about opening your mouth or touching a nightmare. It’s a process of spiritual digestion. If your physical body is weak, your core won't be able to contain the darkness you’re about to ingest."

  Yumi ate in silence, his gaze lost in the courtyard. His indifference was almost absolute, but upon hearing Ren, his blue eyes flickered toward Haru for a second.

  "If you don't learn to filter what you absorb," Yumi commented in a flat voice, "the nightmare will take up residence inside you. You won't be an exorcist; you'll be a vessel."

  Haru swallowed hard, feeling the chicken broth suddenly weigh heavier in his stomach.

  "That's my boy!" Ren remarked, patting Yumi’s head. Yumi simply blushed but didn't pull away.

  "Finish quickly," Ren declared, withdrawing his hand. "The sun won't stay up there waiting for you."

  When breakfast ended, the atmosphere shifted drastically. The temple assistants cleared the bowls, and the group headed to the center of the stone courtyard. The air felt thicker, charged with the anticipation of the training.

  "Yumi and Kumiho, go meditate," Ren said, sending the other two to a meditation chamber.

  "Alright, kid, let's train!" Mugen roared with a grin on his face.

  The training began with something "easy": hitting a giant rock every day until it split, a reflex exercise between Mugen's fists and Haru's body, running ten laps up and down the temple stairs, walking over fire, and finally, meditating in the hall.

  The training was a torment. Every fiber of Haru's body screamed in pain; his knuckles were raw from striking the rock, and his lungs burned from the sprints on the stairs. The worst part wasn't the exhaustion, but the constant pressure from Mugen, who never stopped shouting every time Haru faltered. For Mugen, any trace of doubt on the rookie's face was an excuse to crank up the intensity.

  Finally, after the walk over embers that left his feet throbbing, Haru was sent to the meditation hall. There, the silence was almost deafening compared to the shouting in the courtyard.

  "Concentrate," he heard Yumi’s voice. Yumi was already there, sitting in unshakable calm. "If your mind is chaos, your focus will be a waste."

  Haru closed his eyes but immediately snapped them open again.

  "You guys are still here?! It's almost night!" he shouted, seeing that the two hadn't moved from that spot all day.

  Yumi opened a single eye, looking at Haru with that blue coldness that seemed to freeze the air in the room, while Kumiho maintained her posture, as still as a stone statue.

  "An exorcist who cannot control his time in meditation cannot control himself in battle," Yumi replied in his monotonous tone, closing his eye again. "We have been here because the spirit requires more maintenance than the muscles, rookie."

  Kumiho let out a slow, deep sigh, finally breaking her silence. "The day passed quickly for us, but for you, it must have been hell. That is good. Physical pain distracts the mind, but meditation forces it to look into the void your horse left behind."

  Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the wooden hallway. The door slid open violently, revealing Mugen with a predatory grin, though his eyes reflected his usual irritability.

  "Enough with the spiritual chatter!" Mugen barked, tightening the bandages on his hands. "The sun has set and the Master's 'little gift' has just appeared. If you don't move now, I'm going in alone and I won't leave even the scraps for the soaked noodle to learn how to eat."

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  Ren appeared behind him, hands hidden in the sleeves of his robe and an unusually cheerful expression. He pulled out a jar containing four slips of paper and held them out to Haru.

  "You are going to choose who fights at the Gate tonight," he released with glee.

  The announcement surprised everyone except Mugen. Haru pulled out the paper and, as if by fate, Mugen's name was written on it.

  "Perfect, time to go," Ren commented, leaving the room.

  Haru's jaw nearly hit the floor as he read the name. He looked at the paper and then at Mugen, who let out a dry, loud laugh, striking his open palm with a closed fist.

  "Ho-ho-ho! It seems fate wants me to have some fun today!" Ren exclaimed, patting Haru on the back. "Tonight's team will be: Mugen as the primary attacker, Haru as the apprentice... and Yumi, you will go as support."

  "Me?" Yumi arched an eyebrow, clearly annoyed at having to interrupt his state of calm. "Master, you know Mugen will only cause destruction."

  "What was that, you show-off?!" Mugen roared, turning around with fire in his eyes. "Say it again and I swear the first nightmare I see will have your face!"

  "We’re all going, but we all know you’re the only one who can keep Mugen in check. Wah-hah-hah-hah! Kumiho and I are just going to watch," Ren concluded.

  Kumiho simply nodded, accepting his role as an observer with his usual composure. The group left the temple, leaving behind the scent of incense to enter the coldness of the urban night.

  They walked to a middle-class apartment complex. The atmosphere there was suffocating; the air vibrated with a static that made their hair stand on end. In the center of the communal garden floated a door made of rotting wood, reinforced with iron chains that clinked despite the lack of wind.

  "There it is," Ren pointed out, walking straight toward the door.

  "Master, you have to knock on the door to open it," Haru commented, seeing Ren with his hands behind his head, walking without looking.

  "Oh, right, you're correct. Wah-hah-hah-hah!" he said without turning back.

  As Ren approached, the door swung open without being asked, leaving Haru in shock.

  "We told you he was the exception to the rule, rookie," Yumi commented, walking behind Ren with his eyes closed.

  Haru stood frozen for a second at the threshold, watching how the wood and chains surrendered to Ren's mere presence. There were no knocks, no resistance; reality simply stepped aside to let him through.

  "Move it, statue!" Mugen gave him a shove on the shoulder as he passed, entering the portal with a red energy that was already starting to crackle around him. "The Master isn't going to hold the door open for you to admire the scenery."

  Haru shook his head and crossed the threshold.

  On the other side, the apartment complex garden had disappeared. They found themselves in an infinite field of flowers under bright sunlight.

  [TARGET ANALYSIS: GRADE C NIGHTMARE – CRUEL NEIGHBOR]

  Despite the beauty of the flower field and the sunlight, the air felt foul, as if the flowers were made of plastic and the sun were a lightbulb about to burn out.

  "Don't be fooled, rookie," Yumi warned, keeping his eyes closed but remaining on guard. "Grade C is low, but this nightmare feeds on false security."

  Suddenly, the earth began to tremble. From the center of the flower field, the figure of a dog emerged—it was missing an eye, a rotting corpse.

  Yumi narrowed his eyes with a hint of disgust. "The neighbor killed animals."

  Then, rabbits, hamsters, and cats began to crawl out of the earth.

  Haru felt a chill run down his spine. The small creatures, which must have been adorable in life, crawled toward them with spasmodic movements, leaving a trail of black ash upon the flower petals. They had no eyes, only empty sockets emanating a gray mist.

  "Disgusting! I hate cowards who take it out on those who can't defend themselves!" Mugen roared.

  "Mugen..." Yumi whispered, hiding his eyes. "Kill that nightmare."

  Like a bullet, Mugen charged to hunt down the nightmare of the place.

  "There, there, everything will be alright." Ren's voice sounded beside the others.

  Out of nowhere, Ren was now holding a little girl in his arms; she was the owner of this nightmare. Seeing Ren stroking the girl's head, Yumi felt an immediate pang of jealousy.

  The flower field began to distort violently under Mugen's fury. While he became a whirlwind of red energy, tearing apart the cadaveric animals with a violence unusual even for him, the focus of attention shifted drastically.

  Yumi stood petrified at the scene. His hands, which were normally ready to invoke blue precision shields, trembled slightly. His eyes were locked on the small figure Ren held with such tenderness. For Yumi, the Master's affection was his only anchor, and seeing that girl—a residual manifestation of the Cruel Neighbor's victim—receiving the gestures he valued so much made his energy become unstable.

  "Master..." Yumi whispered, and small blue sparks began to leap from his fingertips, slicing through some of the plastic flowers at his feet. His face, usually flat and indifferent, tightened with a bitterness Haru had never seen before.

  Ren paid him no mind, but Kumiho simply took Yumi by the head and forced him to look away. The gesture was silent and firm, compelling Yumi to break the visual contact that was causing him so much pain. Yumi grit his teeth but did not resist; he allowed Kumiho's hand to guide his face toward the chaos Mugen was causing, even though his blue energy continued to vibrate with a dangerous intensity—the fruit of that silent resentment.

  "ROOKIE!" Mugen’s shout shattered the atmospheric tension. "STOP STARING AT THE CLOUDS AND GET TO WORK! I’M TIRED OF BEING YOUR WAITER!"

  Then, Mugen spotted a man—or what appeared to be one—watering the plants. With a single blow, the man fell unconscious.

  "Here he is, Master," Mugen said, visibly annoyed.

  "Perfect," Ren said, approaching the body. "You are going to place your hand on the nightmare's chest. Then, you will concentrate on imagining and seeing the energy within the nightmare. Once that is done, just pull; its energy will detach from its body," Ren commented, guiding Haru’s hand to the nightmare’s chest.

  Haru felt the cold, oily contact of the nightmare's chest through the fabric of the overalls. Ren’s hand, warm and firm over his own, was the only thing keeping him from running away.

  "Now," Ren whispered, "look beyond what your eyes see."

  Haru closed his eyes and, for the first time, he didn't see the purple fire of his past. He saw a network of black, throbbing veins running through the gardener’s body, converging into a dense core right beneath his palm. It was a mass of static that vibrated with a sadness so deep it made his own chest ache.

  "Pull it already, noodle!" Mugen’s shout, loaded with his habitual impatience, broke the trance. "We don't have all night for you to give him a massage!"

  Mugen approached, arms crossed, watching with evident annoyance as Haru received personalized instruction. He had already cleared the surroundings, and his red energy continued to crackle, demanding more action.

  Haru grit his teeth, visualized that black network, and following Ren's instruction, closed an imaginary fist around the energy and pulled with all his might.

  He felt an elastic resistance, as if he were ripping roots from the ground, until something gave way with a dull snap in the air. A cloud of grayish essence detached from the man’s body and began to flow into Haru.

  "AGH!" Haru staggered. The energy wasn't just power; it was fragments of memories.

  Suddenly, Haru saw through the girl's eyes how the man used poison, gas, and other methods to kill animals for his own satisfaction.

  Haru let out a choked cry and pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. The darkness he had just sucked in wasn't just "energy"; it was the gardener's pure, raw malice. In his mind, images flashed like gusts of freezing wind: he saw the man’s hands mixing chemicals, the sadistic glint in his eyes as he watched a cat agonize, and the silent weeping of the girl—the owner of the animals—whom Ren had just comforted.

  "He's... he's a monster!" Haru gasped, falling to his knees. The green glow on his hands flickered erratically, contaminated by threads of that grayish blackness that twisted under his skin like parasites.

  Mugen, who had been watching with clenched fists, let out a dry, contemptuous laugh at Haru’s reaction.

  "Ha! See what I told you, noodle?" Mugen approached with slow steps, his red energy glowing with aggressive intensity. "You’re choking on a little bit of poison! That trash isn't meant to be 'felt'; it's meant to be crushed."

  Without warning, Mugen extended his own hand toward the rest of the energy still floating over the gardener's unconscious body. Unlike Haru, Mugen didn't "pull" carefully; he snatched the darkness. The gray energy was absorbed into Mugen's arm, but instead of making him falter, it seemed to fuel his fury. His veins bulged with red light, and a wave of hot air displaced the foul smell of the place.

  "Well, it was a good start. Let's head home," Ren said, as the entire plane began to crack and splinter.

  Dorīmuītā continue to unveil their secrets, and may every step in this work be a new ritual drawing you closer to the temple.