Kaizen lay on the hard floor of his cell. The pain from his injuries was constant, and his body felt weak. He had agreed to help Bhikkhu, and now he awaited the next visit. He had little hope left, but he held on to the thought of seeing Aoi, Sakura, and Itsuro again.
Two days after his last meeting, the heavy door of the cell opened. Bhikkhu entered with a stern expression. His dark robe was plain and he carried a small leather pouch. He walked directly to Kaizen and stood before him.
"Today, you will begin your task," Bhikkhu said. His tone was calm but firm.
Kaizen did not speak. He could feel his body tense even though he was still weak from months of torment. Bhikkhu looked into his eyes for a moment before continuing.
"You will recall the details. You will tell me where the demons led you. You must remember a location. That location will be the key to finding the remaining Shards of Eternity."
Kaizen swallowed hard. He had no clear memory of a fixed location. The demons had guided him during moments of pain and confusion. Their influence had been strong at times, and he was not sure if he could trust his own recollection.
"I do not know where it is," Kaizen said slowly, his voice rough and low.
Bhikkhu shook his head. "Do not lie to me, Kaizen. I know you have seen things. I know you have heard their voices in your darkest moments. You must remember. The pain you endured was not for nothing. You must help us retrieve the Shards."
Kaizen closed his eyes, trying to force his memory to come forth. He recalled flashes of images—rooms filled with cold light, voices urging him to follow a path. He remembered being led along a rough road, the sound of water in the distance. But the details were hazy. Every time he tried to recall them, the memory slipped away like sand through his fingers.
"I will try," Kaizen said, forcing the words out. "But I cannot promise that I remember clearly."
Bhikkhu took a step closer. "Your cooperation is all I require. If you help us, you will have a chance to see your loved ones again. You must give me any detail that might lead us to the Shards. Even a small clue will do."
Kaizen felt anger welling up inside him. He remembered the meeting in the dark, the man in the cloak who had spoken with a cold tone. He remembered the promise that his suffering would end if he provided the information. He also remembered that he had given nothing. He had no location to share. His voice came out bitterly, "The demons guided me. They did not show me a place. They only made me suffer."
Bhikkhu frowned. "Then you are of no use. I warn you, Kaizen, every moment you delay further brings suffering upon you and those you claim to care about."
Kaizen clenched his fists, his body shaking from both pain and anger. "If I had any memory, I would tell you. I do not know what you want me to say."
Bhikkhu reached into his pouch and pulled out a small bundle of mala beads. He held them in front of Kaizen. "These beads have power. They remind you of the strength that you once had. Use them as a tool to recall your memories. If you tell me where the Shards are, you will be granted relief from your torment, and your loved ones will be spared further suffering."
Kaizen stared at the beads. He felt a brief surge of emotion as he remembered the few moments of peace he had experienced in the village. He recalled Aoi's gentle voice and Sakura's playful laughter. For a moment, he almost believed that there might be a way to free himself from this endless punishment.
He took a deep breath. "I remember a road. A rough, narrow road. I remember the sound of water. I remember a small town. It was not much, but I recall that it was near a river. That is all I have."
Bhikkhu's eyes narrowed. "A town near a river. That is not enough, Kaizen. You must be sure. Otherwise, you risk wasting our time." He leaned in closer, his tone soft yet demanding. "Tell me the exact name of the town, or even the area. Think, Kaizen. Use the beads if you must."
Kaizen closed his eyes again. He concentrated on the beads in his mind and tried to force his memory to yield more details. He saw flashes: a sign with letters he could not read, a building with a stone door, and the sound of rushing water. He shook his head as he struggled. "I do not remember a name," he said. "I only remember that it was small. The town was quiet. The river was cold."
Bhikkhu's face remained impassive. "You will help us, Kaizen. Otherwise, you will suffer even more. I have no more time to waste on your indecision."
Kaizen felt despair fill him. His body was weak, and his mind was worn down by five years of punishment. Yet, he also felt a small spark of defiance. He had endured too much to give in completely now. "I do not know, Bhikkhu. It is not my memory that guides me now. It is the demons. They lead me, and I cannot control them."
Bhikkhu's expression hardened. "Then you have a choice,
"Then you have a choice, Kaizen. Either you cooperate, or you suffer further. I will return soon, and if you have not provided sufficient information, I will take other measures. Your pain will increase, and you will not live another day without it."
Kaizen's eyes burned with both pain and anger. "I will try," he said at last, his voice barely above a whisper. "I will try to remember. But I cannot promise anything."
Bhikkhu nodded once. "Very well. We will see if time brings clarity. Remember this: every moment you delay, every moment you do not provide the information I seek, more suffering will be your reward."
The High Monk turned and left the cell, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. Kaizen was left alone with the beads in his hand and the silence of his cell.
He lay down on the cold stone, clutching the beads as if they could give him strength. In his mind, he saw comforting images of Aoi smiling at him, Sakura playing by the river, and Itsuro standing with him. He whispered to himself, "I will remember. I must remember."
Kaizen tried to focus on those memories, to hold onto the peaceful times. For a moment, the images filled him with a sense of calm. But the pain returned as soon as he closed his eyes, and the voices of the demons began to stir faintly in the distance.
He wondered if he had already lost his mind. He had been tortured for so long that his thoughts were muddled. Yet he held on to the hope that if he could just remember that small town, that road near the river, he might be able to help his loved ones and finally end his suffering.
The hours passed slowly. Kaizen forced himself to review every memory he had of that time. He recalled the sound of water, the touch of cold stone, and the faint sign that might have read a name. He repeated the information over and over in his mind, trying to solidify it. But each time he attempted to speak, pain cut through him, and the memory slipped away like a broken thread.
The cell grew colder as night deepened. Kaizen wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the weight of his isolation. He felt the burden of Bhikkhu's threat. He felt the constant pressure of the beads on his soul. In that dark silence, he made a quiet promise to himself. "I will not let this be the end. I will find a way. Even if I do not know the full truth, I will do what I can."
He did not know that outside, the High Monk was preparing further punishments, or that his loved ones had been taken far away. All he knew was his cell, his pain, and the faint hope that one day he might remember enough to help them.
Kaizen closed his eyes once more, the beads heavy in his hand, and tried to force a memory from the depths of his mind. "River... town... small and quiet," he murmured. "I must remember."
As he lay there in the darkness, the sound of his own breathing was all he had. The minutes turned into hours. He was alone, broken, and forced to confront the truth of his own inability to recall what the demons had shown him.
He did not know if his efforts were enough or if Bhikkhu would return with more cruelty. He did not know if his loved ones were truly alive or if that was another lie meant to keep him suffering. All he could do was try to hold onto the small details and hope that in time, they would form a complete picture.
The night passed slowly, and as dawn approached, Kaizen remained in his cell, a prisoner of both his body and his failing mind. His resolve hardened, even as his spirit wavered. He promised himself that he would endure, that he would fight the pain and the torment, even if it meant sacrificing everything.
Kaizen did not know what the future held. He did not know if he would ever escape this cell, or if he would ever be free of Bhikkhu's cruel demands. He only knew that he had a task to complete. He had a duty to remember, to provide even a single detail about that road near the river. Until then, his suffering would continue.
In the cold light of dawn, Kaizen opened his eyes and stared at the small bundle of beads in his hand. With a shaky breath, he whispered, "I will remember."
And for the first time in five years, he felt a small spark of determination.
The task had begun.