( journey begins ":8:" Unseen Burden)
(Scroll of the Latecomers) -1
Haru and Jinso, having rounded the final mark, ascended back into the training grounds. All the others had completed their task and returned before them. The assistant, a man of keen eyes, scrutinized Haru and Jinso, the latecomers of the final moment.
"You may now rest for a time before the next discipline," the assistant declared, before retreating deeper within.
The young disciples dispersed to various resting places, seeking respite.
Amidst the stillness, one of the two boys who had accompanied Yin suddenly heard a faint call. He looked about, his gaze sharp, but found no soul. Yet, the sensation persisted a subtle, insistent voice calling to him from the void.
"What troubles you?" inquired the boy beside him. "Nothing," he replied, his caution masking the strange occurrence.
(Master's Scrutiny):2
Master Daisho proceeded to the chamber. Yin still lay upon the futon. The Master approached him, gently commencing an examination of the boy's condition. Yin was sunk in a deep slumber. Daisho first checked the boy's skin for the presence of the bluemark the sign of the affliction but found no trace of it on his body. Seeing this, Daisho was struck with a profound surprise. He then carefully examined the scar upon Yin's neck; the mark that had been there was now gone.
"Master Daisho," the assistant entered the chamber.
"Master, the disciples have completed their training and returned," he reported.
The Master remained silent. He brushed aside the hair on Yin's neck and pressed his finger gently against the skin; here, too, the blue color was nowhere to be found.
"Did Yin speak with any other, or leave the premises today?" the Master inquired.
"No, Master," the assistant replied with due deference. "I have not permitted this boy to leave here without your explicit sanction."
Yet, a torrent of other thoughts now coursed through the mind of Daisho.
The assistant presented the morning meal to all the young disciples. Their sustenance was the simple fare of boiled sweet potatoes and fresh, green milk.
"How can one consume such things? I shall not eat this," Sai lamented, looking upon the food with distress.
"For the discipline we now undergo, this sustenance is perfectly suited, Sai," Haru countered, attempting to compel him to eat. "If you refuse it now, you will possess no strength for the next trial."
Jinso, meanwhile, sat lost in a deep contemplation. He paid no heed to them; neither their words nor their actions drew his notice. His thoughts and attention lay elsewhere, far from the training grounds.
"Did you not hear it?" Jinso spoke suddenly. His sudden, unrelated outburst caused Haru and Sai to stare at him.
"Hear what?" Sai and Haru asked in unison.
"That..." He paused, struggling to articulate his meaning. "That feeling... do you not sense that someone is watching us?"
At Jinso's question, they looked around the enclosure.
"Here, we are not watched by one, but by many," Sai scoffed, mocking him. "What great discovery is that?"
"I speak not of them," Jinso insisted. "It is anothera peculiar sort of observation..." He struggled, unable to find the correct words.
"Is it the Soul-Devourers from your grandfather's tales?" Sai jested once more.
"Sai!" Haru gave him a look of fierce anger.
"It is just as I said," Sai retorted, turning away. "He believes his old man's frightening stories of Soul-Devourers and phantoms are true. A mere coward! If such beings existed, even we would not be standing here. Idiot."
Mocking Jinso, Sai turned to fetch water. Because he was facing away, he failed to notice anyone ahead of him and accidentally knocked a passing boy to the ground. Sai quickly looked at the boy who had fallen. He was a beautiful youth with long hair, his eyes the color of dark crimson mixed with pale black.
The fallen boy slowly rose.
"My apologies," he said, believing he was the one who had caused the collision, and he bowed an apology to Sai before walking away.
Sai stared after the boy in astonishment, for none had ever reacted to him in such a manner.
"Is he a fool?" Sai muttered to himself.
That particular boy was one who spoke little to anyone. He retreated to a solitary corner and settled there to rest alone.
(Burden of Sight):3
Here, Jinso tried to convey the many strange sensations he felt to Haru, but he knew not how to express them. He strove with all his might to articulate his inner turmoil.
"I feel as if someone is watching us. I know not why, but today, during our run, every time we passed certain parts near this training ground, I felt as if we were being observed, or perhaps a heavy burden was placed upon me. Even blood flowed from my nose."
Haru, however, could not grasp the meaning of Jinso's words.
"Jinso, those must be mere illusions," Haru attempted to reassure him. "You are simply afraid, perhaps because of Yin's condition. The blood might be due to something else. Do not worry."
Haru tried to soothe his friend, but Jinso was firm in his heart that his feelings were the absolute truth.
Even as Sai returned from drinking water, his eyes were fixed upon the peculiar boy. He sat in a corner, solitary and silent, maintaining no commerce or fellowship with any soul. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings, his focus fixed entirely upon some unseen object beyond the walls.
Sai watched him thus for a time, then, driven by mischief and a desire to break the boy's concentration, he tossed a small stone towards him. It was meant as a slight jest and a test of the boy's awareness.
But what transpired was far from Sai's expectation. The boy, whose attention was riveted elsewhere, swiftly and without looking at Sai, caught the stone mid-air. His gaze remained fixed upon the unseen focus of his thoughts.
Seeing the boy catch the missile so suddenly, Sai was seized by astonishment. He had not anticipated such a feat. Without delay, Sai walked directly towards the secluded youth.
Sai approached and stood before him, studying the boy for a silent moment.
"Hey... what is your name?" Sai asked, without reserve or hesitation.
The boy, whose attention had been far away, slowly turned his gaze toward Sai. His eyes possessed a strange, compelling allure, drawing one's vision so that it was difficult to look away. They held a profound, melancholic weariness, framed by the strands of hair that fell across his brow.
He simply stared back at Sai.
"I am Sai," Sai declared, extending his hand in introduction.
The boy did not take his hand. Instead, he inclined his head slightly, a gesture of respect, before lapsing back into silence. Sai, undeterred, continued to hold his gaze.
"Before, you did not strike me. I struck you," Sai admitted, offering his correction. "I came without awareness of your presence. Accept my apology." Thus, Sai confessed his fault and sought forgiveness for the collision.
The boy shifted his focus from the distance and looked fully upon Sai.
"It is naught," he said, his voice a quiet murmur.
"I am Sai," Sai repeated his name, introducing himself once more.
"What is your name?" Sai asked with deference, urging the boy to reveal his identity.
"IZAMU," he replied softly, pronouncing his name.