*The Whispering Drum***
Night wrapped the orphanage in a hush so deep it felt sacred.
The moon hovered like a silver drum above Ardenia, low and heavy, pulsing faint light that rippled across the courtyard stones. Shadows stretched long and trembling, shaped by the wind's distant hum. Yet beneath it all, there was something else—something quieter, something alive.
A **beat**.
Faint.
Soft.
Rhythmic.
As if the night itself held its breath to listen.
Bungo sat alone on the rooftop tiles, legs pulled to his chest, chin resting on his knees. The city lights below flickered like dying embers, and the usual chorus of nocturnal Aural creatures was strangely muted tonight.
He felt the silence pressing on him.
Pulling something out of him.
Something he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
His eyes stung from the cold wind—but the tear tracks drying across his cheeks had nothing to do with the weather.
"Kairo…" he whispered, the name trembling out of him like a cracked note.
He tightened his grip around his legs.
He still saw the body when he closed his eyes.
Still saw the feather.
Still heard the whispers.
Still felt the wrongness.
The world wasn't supposed to be like this.
They had survived death once already—hand-in-hand, reborn as orphans, destined to rise again together.
But fate had ripped one hand away.
And now Bungo was left clinging to an echo.
He exhaled shakily.
"Why…? Why did you leave me again?"
And then—
the air trembled.
---
### **The First Whisper**
A soft vibration thrummed against the tile beneath him, so delicate he almost missed it. Like fingertips tapping in hesitation.
*tok…*
*…tok… tok…*
He froze.
His breath hitched.
"No. Not again. Not—"
*tok*
*——boom.*
His heart slammed against his ribs.
That beat.
That rhythm.
There was only one person who ever tapped with that exact syncopation—
the slight hesitation before the downbeat, the soft drag at the end.
Only one person in any world.
"Kairo…?"
His voice cracked.
Suddenly the rooftop tiles beneath him shimmered faint gold, as if reflecting a memory only he could see. A tremor ran through the stones, more certain this time, more alive.
*BOOM…*
*BOOM…*
*BOOM.*
The shockwave rattled the gutters. Dust spiraled upward. The air hummed with resonance.
Bungo's throat closed with emotion he couldn't swallow.
He reached toward the vibrating tile, hand shaking, fingertips trembling above it—
And the moment his skin made contact—
A **flash.**
Golden light erupted upward like a ringing cymbal struck in the heavens.
---
### **The Drumming Vision**
Bungo flinched, shielding his eyes.
When the light faded, he found himself no longer on the rooftop.
He was standing in a vast, empty space—
black as pitch, endless as the void.
But directly in front of him…
A single **drum**.
Kairo's old street drum.
The one he made from scrap metal and patched leather back in Greyline City.
The one they used to perform for coins—
the one that fed them, saved them, and taught them rhythm.
It sat in the darkness like an altar.
Bungo's breath caught.
"Kairo… is this… your memory?"
A faint glow shimmered atop the drum.
A silhouette appeared—barely visible.
A boy's outline, arms raised over the drum.
Kairo's outline.
Then—
*BOOM.*
*——BOOM.*
*BOOM-BOOM.*
The darkness around Bungo rippled in shockwaves, bending like a struck mirror. Each beat pulsed with warmth—familiar, comforting, painful.
He stumbled forward, reaching.
"KAIRO!"
The silhouette paused.
Turned.
And though he had no face, no eyes, no voice—
Bungo felt the message like a whisper through his bones.
*You're not alone.*
Bungo fell to his knees, tears spilling freely.
"Kairo… please… don't go again. Don't disappear…"
The silhouette stepped back.
Light enveloped the drum.
The vision fractured into shards of gold—
They spun around him, then shot into his chest like streaks of fire.
Bungo gasped.
Sudden heat surged through him—
like molten rhythm pouring into his veins.
His pulse accelerated.
His muscles tensed.
The world spun—
Then the vision shattered.
---
### **Back to Reality**
He woke on the rooftop, gasping, drenched in sweat.
His heart pounded painfully.
His limbs trembled.
But the night was no longer silent.
The wind carried a faint drum rhythm.
Soft.
Persistent.
Inside him.
Something had changed.
His veins glowed faintly like threads of gold before dimming.
Bungo sat up slowly, panting.
"Kairo… what did you do to me?"
A tingling sensation pulsed in his fingertips.
When he touched the rooftop tile—
a spark burst beneath his finger.
Not lightning.
Not fire.
**Sound.**
A visible **pulse** of sound.
He jerked back.
Stared at his hand.
At the tiles.
Then he understood.
Soulbeat Resonance wasn't just a rumor.
Wasn't just a forbidden myth.
It was real.
Awake.
Alive inside him.
Kairo had given it to him.
Or maybe—
Kairo had always been its origin.
Suddenly the rooftop door creaked open.
A figure appeared in the frame.
Tall.
Slender.
Wrapped in a dark cloak embroidered with faint musical glyphs.
Their voice cut the cold air:
"So. It's true."
Bungo whipped around, heart slamming.
The stranger stepped forward, one boot tapping gently on the tiles—
*tok.*
That single step vibrated like a threat.
"You've awakened the Resonance."
They pulled back their hood.
Silver eyes glinted in the moonlight.
Eyes Bungo recognized from Academy posters.
From magazines.
From whispers.
Eyes that belonged to the most dangerous young noble in Ardenia.
**Soren Blackfall.**
Kairo's brother.
His murderer.
And he was smiling.
"Good," Soren said softly.
"Now I can finish what I started."