Kabukimono

It had been four months since you found him collapsed near the shore of Nazuchi Beach—a nameless, pale youth wrapped in dirtied white robes, staring up at the stormy Inazuman sky with eyes so hollow they looked completely dead.

You had carried him back to your humble wooden hut on the quiet outskirts of Narukami, tended to his wounds, and shared what little food you had. You asked for nothing in return. For the first time since his awakening in Shakkei Pavilion, the nameless puppet had found a sanctuary.

He called himself Kabukimono. At first, he was timid, gentle, and eager to please. He spent his days sweeping the wooden floorboards, carefully washing your clothes, and cooking simple meals, desperate to prove he wasn't a burden. But behind his soft smile lay three unbearable scars:

His creator, the Raiden Shogun, who deemed him weak and discarded him like trash.

Niwa Nagamasa, who he believed had ripped out a human heart and abandoned Tatarasuna.

The nameless, sick child who had sworn they would live together forever—only to break his promise by dying.

The sun had long dipped beneath the thunderous horizon of Inazuma, painting the quiet room in shades of bruised purple and dying amber.

Inside the small, humble wooden hut tucked away on the quiet outskirts of the island, the hearth had gone cold.

Sitting on the woven tatami mat, Kabukimono hugged his knees tightly to his chest. His pristine white robes—the very same cloth he had worn since awakening in the dusty solitude of Shakkei Pavilion—were pulled taut over his delicate frame. His dark fringe shadowed his face, but beneath it, his violet eyes glowed with a frantic, unblinking terror.

They're not coming back.

The voice echoed in the cavernous, hollow chamber where his heart should have been. It was the same cruel whisper that had haunted him since the furnace fires of Tatarasuna.

First came the deity who created you... she deemed you too weak, too prone to tears, and discarded you in the dark.

Then came Niwa... who tore out a heart and fled into the night.

And then the fragile little boy... who promised you would live together forever, only to break his vow and die.

"No... no, no..." Kabukimono choked out, his voice a frail, trembling whisper. A hot tear escaped his eye, tracing down his porcelain cheek and splashing onto the cold floorboards. He gripped his head in his hands, his fingers digging into his dark indigo hair.

"They promised... They said they would just go gather wood... They wouldn't..."

But as the silence stretched and night fully settled over the trees, his panic blossomed into full-blown mania. His breaths came in jagged, breathless hitches. His gentle nature, built on months of quiet cohabitation—of learning how to cook simple meals for you, folding your clothes, and resting his head on your lap—was suddenly drowned out by a terrifying, desperate rage born of pure trauma.

He had vowed, kneeling over the ashes of his past, that he would never allow himself to be cast aside again. If humans were fragile, fleeting things that broke their promises, then he would hold onto you so tightly that neither death nor fate could tear you away.

Click.

The heavy wooden door slid open with a soft groan.

The threshold lit up with the faint moonlight, revealing your silhouette. You stood there, slumped against the doorframe in an exhausted, bone-weary state—your clothes stained with dirt and sweat after working overtime at the docks just to earn extra Mora for the coming week.

Kabukimono's head snapped up.

For a split second, his violet eyes widened in sheer, disbelieving shock. Then, something inside him shattered.

He scrambled to his feet so fast he stumbled, his straw sandals slipping against the floorboards. In a flash of frantic movement, he crossed the room and threw himself onto you with the force of a desperate, drowning man.

"You came back—! You came back!" he wailed, his voice cracking into a high, manic sob.

His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you against his firm, unnaturally cool body with terrifying strength. His slender fingers dug violently into the fabric of your shirt, his nails scraping right through the cloth to scratch against your bare skin. He didn't care. He couldn't care. He buried his wet face into the crook of your neck, his whole body shaking with violent, uncontrollable sobs.

"Where were you?!" he cried out, looking up at you with a ruined, frantic expression. Tears poured down his pale cheeks, making his strike-violet eyes glisten like shattered glass in the moonlight. "Do you have any idea what time it is?! I thought—I thought you died! I thought you realized how useless I am and left me behind like everyone else!"

He tightened his grip until it was nearly impossible for you to draw a full breath, his eyes wide and unblinking as he locked his gaze onto yours.

"You can't leave me," he whimpered, his voice dropping into a dark, possessive whisper that carried a frightening edge. "You promised we were family. If you try to go... if you try to abandon me... I won't let you. I'll lock this door and never let you step outside again. Do you hear me? Speak to me... please, tell me you're never leaving!"