That night, Ren returned home quietly.
He washed his hands longer than usual. The water turned slightly red, then clear again.
"…No one saw," he whispered.
"…Good."
He ate dinner in silence. His father spoke only to his elder brother. Ren listened, nodded, and smiled at the right moments.
Afterward, he went to his room.
Ren sat on his futon and looked at his sword resting beside him.
"…Today was strange," he said softly.
"…Very strange."
He lay down and pulled the blanket over himself.
Sleep came slowly.
Then—
He dreamed.
He was standing in the forest again.
But this time, there was no fog.
The trees were tall and quiet. The ground beneath his feet felt cold.
Something stood in front of him.
Not a demon.
Not human.
A mask floated in the air.
Pale.
Cracked.
Seven faint markings carved into it.
Ren stared at it.
"…Wow," he said honestly.
"…You look expensive."
The mask did not move.
A voice echoed—not loud, not soft.
"Why do you hold a blade?"
Ren thought for a moment.
"…Because," he said slowly,
"…if I don't, someone else might get hurt."
The forest grew still.
The mask trembled.
"Do you seek power?" the voice asked.
Ren scratched his head.
"…I mean," he said,
"…I wouldn't say no. But that's not the reason."
Silence.
Then—
"You are afraid."
Ren nodded.
"…Yes," he said.
"…Very."
The voice paused.
Then it spoke again, quieter this time.
"Yet you stepped forward."
The seven markings glowed faintly.
Ren felt warmth—not burning, not heavy.
Gentle.
"…Are you lonely?" he asked without thinking.
The forest shook slightly.
Far away, Shirugami felt it.
He opened his eyes.
"…You felt it too," the spirit whispered.
"…Didn't you?"
The mask's light faded.
Ren woke up suddenly.
He sat up, breathing fast.
The room was dark. Silent.
"…That was a dream," he muttered.
"…Definitely a dream."
But his chest felt warm.
And far away, deep within Kurobane Forest, the Nanaira Mask rested—
awake.🎭