Chapter Text
Things didn't turn out the way you expected, but what made it different? Each day, your interactions with these curses left you with feelings as intense as they were confusing. Their cursed energies clashed with yours in an endless ebb and flow, sometimes draining your body while simultaneously awakening something in your mind: a mix of curiosity, rejection, and an uncomfortable sense of companionship, all of it sinking deep into your soul.
The jungle surrounding you grew denser as you walked barefoot over the long, uncut grass. The scent of damp earth and freshly fallen leaves filled the air, wrapping you in an atmosphere that felt both familiar and foreign. You had left Dagon's domain several times before; there had always been a reason, though never fully explained, but one you had come to understand through routine. Whenever this happened, there was always a shift in the atmosphere and the energies around you, as if something reset and reestablished itself in reality. The giant octopus named Dagon always looked at you with expressionless eyes each time he deactivated his domain.
One of the curses always accompanied you while the others dispersed in different directions. Perhaps they did so to ensure you wouldn't escape. But if you did... where would you even go? Clenching your fists, you walked slowly. You would be lying if you said this didn't relax and amaze you. All of this was as fascinating as it was unsettling. The freedom that nature offered was always welcoming, full of life and tranquility, all of it making your heart beat faster in your chest.
It reminded you of the first time you spoke with Hanami. The air was light, thick with humidity, and the sensation of vibrant life spread like a constant pulse. You walked along a path that seemed to grow beneath your feet, guided by the energy you felt, which led you to Hanami. The curse stood beside a towering tree, so old its roots jutted out of the ground, snaking like the veins of a massive heart.
You stopped a few steps away, watching her in silence. Her branches, which seemed twisted and broken, caressed the tree's trunk with a tenderness that contrasted with her imposing figure. For long minutes, you said nothing. You knew words weren't needed at that moment. Finally, Hanami broke the silence.
"This tree has been here long before any of us existed." Her voice was deep, but there was a calmness in it that caught you off guard.
"How do you know that?" you asked with curiosity.
"I feel it. I hear it. Everything in this place has a story, a heartbeat," she replied without taking her gaze off the tree.
You stepped closer carefully, feeling the soft grass beneath your feet. When you reached out to touch the trunk, a wave of energy surged through your arm—warm and comforting.
"It's... incredible," you murmured, closing your eyes to better feel that connection.
Hanami glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, her expression always hard to read.
"You feel it too, don't you? Life."
You nodded, unable to put into words what you were experiencing. Plants had always been a vital part of your life at the temple. Their fragrances, colors, and textures were your only escape, your only comfort when you felt truly alone. Now, here, you felt nature alive in a way you had never known before.
"At the temple, I always thought plants were my only companions," you admitted, your voice soft as you recalled those lonely days. "I cared for them, talked to them... They gave me peace when I had nothing else."
"They're more than companions," Hanami said, turning toward you. "They are the balance of the world, the very essence of existence. But humans don't understand that. They destroy without thought, take lives without hearing their cries."
Her tone hardened, and her branches creaked as if they were tensing. There was anger in her words, a passion that almost made you step back. But you didn't. Instead, you looked at the tree once more, placing both hands on its trunk.
"Not all humans are like that," you said softly, almost as a plea. "Some of us try to protect and listen."
Hanami seemed to hesitate for a moment, then let out a sigh, a deep sound like wind rustling through leaves. "You're different. I knew that from the moment you arrived."
You turned to her, surprised. "Why do you say that?"
"Because when you walk, the plants don't move away—they accept you and grow with you. You're... part of them."
Her words left you breathless. You had never thought of yourself that way, but there was something comforting about what she said. Smiling, you looked at your hands, now stained with small smudges of tree sap, and for the first time, you felt she might be right.
Hanami took a step closer to you, one of her branches resting lightly near your shoulder. "You're a contradiction. A human who doesn't act like a human."
"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, trying to decipher her tone.
Hanami shook her head slowly. "No. It's strange, but... not bad. Maybe the world needs more contradictions like you."
The curse turned back to the tree, but this time, you noticed a change in her posture. She seemed more open, less tense.
Days passed after that encounter, and over time, you noticed small gestures from Hanami that spoke louder than any words. When you walked together through Dagon's domain, she always let you go first, her branches subtly protecting you from any obstacles. If there was danger, she positioned herself in front of you without hesitation. And though you never said it aloud, you knew there was something in your connection to nature that resonated deeply with her, an affinity that went beyond words or the cursed and blessed energies.
You knelt, gazing tenderly at one of the flowers growing strong and beautiful around the immense trees. The nature here was different—wilder and freer—but also full of contrasts: as alive and vibrant as a heartbeat, yet surrounded by the dark weight of cursed energies. That dichotomy intrigued you. As you gently stroked the petals, you noticed how your fingers, charged with blessed energy, seemed to intensify the flower's color, giving it a deeper vitality.
Out of the corner of your eye, you turned slightly to glance at the "man" behind you—Mahito. There was something unsettling about his bored expression; you couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was the way he seemed to study your every move, like a living experiment. It seemed it was his turn to watch over you. You couldn't feel Hanami's or Jogo's energy, and even Dagon's energy had vanished. You wondered if that was a good or bad thing.
Mahito, for his part, remained still, observing you with a mix of curiosity and disdain, like a bored child who couldn't decide whether to destroy his toy or figure out how it worked first. But despite his apparent indifference, you couldn't ignore the intensity of his gaze.
Returning your attention to the small flower, the sound of his voice startled you.
"What are you doing there, Miko?" he asked, his mocking tone as grating as ever, as if everything were a joke to him.
Grabbing your chest slightly from the small fright, you turned your gaze to him. It was strange—so very strange. He never spoke to you.
— I just help them grow—respondiste en voz baja. Había algo en él que nunca te inspiró confianza. Intentando tranquilizarte, volviste a mirar la pequeña flor, ignorando su presencia tanto como pudiste.
Mahito chuckled softly and took a few steps closer, leaning in slightly to look at the flower you were touching.
"Do you really think that matters? Flowers wither, you know. Everything alive is destined to die." His voice had a sing-song quality, but there was something dark in his words—an implied threat.
You didn't respond immediately. Instead, you plucked a dead leaf from the plant with trembling hands and placed it in your palm. Concentrating, you released a small amount of your energy, and the leaf began to regain its color and texture, as if reborn. Then, carefully, you let it fall to the ground, where the wind carried it gently to the other flowers.
"Maybe flowers wither," you said finally, lifting your hesitant gaze to him, "but while they're here, while they grow, they can give something beautiful to the world. Even their death has a purpose. They feed the earth, give life to something else."
When you finished speaking, you forced yourself to look away, focusing your attention back on the flowers before you. There was something in his way of talking, in the way he watched you, that made your whole body want to pull away, but you couldn't afford to show weakness. Not in front of him.
"And what about you, Miko?" he asked after a long silence. His words were soft, almost melodic, but you felt the hidden edge in them. "If you're like a flower, do you also believe you can bring something good before you wither?"
His question hit you in an unexpected way, and your hands froze over the earth. You turned to him cautiously, searching his face for a hint of what he really meant. However, Mahito just stared at you, his smile still in place, as if savoring the internal conflict he saw reflected in your eyes.
"I... I'm not like a flower." Your voice wavered slightly, and you regretted it instantly. You tried to compose yourself, but his eyes had already caught your hesitation.
"Oh, aren't you?" Mahito leaned in even closer, so much that you could feel his cursed energy pressing against your skin like a tangible weight. You struggled not to recoil.
"But you're so fragile, aren't you? So pretty and delicate, like these flowers you love so much." He reached out toward one of the flowers you had just healed, and out of pure instinct, your hand shot out to grab his arm, squeezing lightly as your fingers tensed.
"Don't touch them." Your words came faster than you thought they would, laced with a firmness and anger that surprised even you. But Mahito only smiled, amused by your reaction.
"Why not? What would happen if I did?" he asked with a sadistic smile on his face, his gaze never leaving yours, waiting for another reaction, something much more exciting and dangerous. His stare made you uncomfortable, and your hand began to tremble on his arm. You couldn't help it; your energy began to shake and expand, fighting against his, suffocating it. Mahito's eyes widened in surprise, and you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath before responding.
"Because... you don't understand what it means to protect her." Your words were barely a whisper, but the intensity in your voice was clear. "It's not about how long it lasts. It's about what it represents while it's alive."
His eyes looked at you with surprise and something darker that you didn't recognize. For a few seconds, his leaden and blue eyes didn't leave yours until they shifted, and with force, he pushed your hand off his arm. Then, with a sudden movement, he yanked the flower from its root. Your heart skipped a beat, and the air got stuck in your throat. Mahito twirled the flower between his fingers as if evaluating it, then stood up and crushed it in his palm. With a triumphant smile, he dropped it to the ground. The flower lay there, broken and twisted, while he looked at you with an ecstatic madness.
"What it represents, huh?" he said with a soft laugh, though there was something strange in his tone. "You and I have very different ideas about what it means to live, Miko. But..." He slowly turned around, giving you his back as he took a few steps away. "Maybe one day you'll show me. If you can."
You watched him leave, your chest still tight with tension. Despite what he had done, there was something in his last sentence that left you with a strange feeling, as if there was something he truly wanted to understand. Still, you couldn't let your guard down. Not with him.