The Dream-Weaver's Grave: Arai Tsuruki's Hidden Heart - Betting on a dream—two supernatural powers, awaken Kiyoka

Something was caught in his chest, and it wouldn't come loose. Arata looked out the inn's window. The sky over the imperial capital of Miyabi had been overcast for two days straight. Heavy clouds smothered the whole city, and even though it was midday, the light was dim. He rested his hand on the window frame; the cold bit into his fingertips. A single sheet of paper lay on the desk. A notice from the Ministry of the Imperial Household: revocation of his license as a supernatural-ability monitor. Since that rainy night, Arata's position had changed entirely. He was forbidden from entering or leaving the Kudou estate, and his use of illusionary arts was restricted. He had also been ordered to leave the capital—and he had refused. He pulled his white gloves back on. His fingers trembled faintly. The scene from two days ago would not leave the backs of his eyelids. Kiyoka's abdomen, torn open by an otherworldly claw. Spraying blood. Miyo, collapsing in tears. And the words Naoshi Amami had left behind in the rain. *"You who have lost your license and your place—do you have the power to protect her?"* The question had lodged in his chest and would not come out. He clenched his fist. Miyo as a small child, crying in the storehouse. The tears he had seen in a dream when he was fifteen. Back then, he had been able to do nothing. He had sworn that this time he would protect her. He let out a deep breath—and that was when it happened. A heavy knock landed on the inn's door. His body went rigid. He killed his footsteps and approached the door, peering through the gap. The man standing there was not the one in the black coat. It was a man with the bearing of a Shinto priest, long platinum hair loosely tied back. His pale violet eyes carried an eerie light. On the back of his left hand, an old scar. Naoshi Amami. The founder of the Supernatural Heart Sect was standing outside his inn. Arata opened the door. "What do you want?" His voice was low and cold. Amami wore a gentle smile—the friendly expression of a man visiting an old friend. But his eyes were not smiling. "Hello, Arata Usuba. Forgive me for the sudden visit." His voice was soft, theatrical. Arata regarded him with open wariness. "I have nothing to say to you. Please leave." He tried to close the door. Amami slipped his hand into the gap. "Don't be so cold. I want to be of help to you." The pale violet eyes fixed steadily on Arata. There was a pull in that gaze, like an irresistible gravity. "I thought I would give you what you want." "I refuse. I have no such thing as something I 'want' from you." Amami smiled. "The power to protect Miyo. And a new world with her as its queen. Isn't that what you want?" His heart gave a single, heavy throb. Amami went on. "The power of dream-weaving manifests only rarely, and only in women of Usuba blood—the strongest supernatural ability there is. With mastery, one can invade another's dreams and even manipulate other ability users. The Emperor's 'Revelation' is nothing beside it. With that power, this country can be changed. Miyo can be placed at the summit, as the symbol of a new age." "You intend to use her." Arata cut him off coldly. Amami tilted his head. "Use her? No—this is salvation. Miyo has been oppressed her entire life. In the Saimori house she was denounced as worthless, treated no better than a servant. She had no place of her own. I want to give her one. A place where she can shine brighter than anyone." His voice gathered heat, little by little. "You know it yourself, don't you? About her mother, Sumi. Sumi was married into the Saimori family—little better than sold—because they coveted the Usuba ability. And she died of illness when Miyo was two. She was never able to live by her own will. I do not want that tragedy repeated." For an instant, Arata's heart wavered. Amami had held strong feelings for Sumi. Arata could understand that those feelings lay at the root of everything this man did. But— "Even so, your way is wrong." He said it clearly. "Make Miyo a queen, and she will suffer more. Caught up in the struggle for power, her heart will break. You don't know what she wishes for." Miyo's wish was simply to stay beside the person who needed her—a wish so modest it was almost painful. A queen was not something she wanted. Amami's smile never faltered. "Then—you who have lost both your license and your place—do you have the power to protect her?" His voice dropped, low and cold. Arata had no answer. "Do you truly want to save her? Or do you merely want to wallow in the self-satisfaction of being her savior?" The words drove into his chest. He tried to argue, and nothing came out. Amami watched Arata's silence, then continued slowly. "God is watching. Your suffering, and Miyo's sorrow. All things will be guided toward what is good. Think on my proposal once more. I will be waiting, always." He left the smile behind and was gone. Arata stood rooted before the inn. Amami's question echoed again and again in his mind. —Meanwhile, at the Kudou residence. Miyo was at Kiyoka's bedside, crying with her voice stifled. Since two days ago, Kiyoka had remained in a coma and would not wake. The wound in his abdomen was deep, and though the doctors had treated it, there was no sign of consciousness returning. "Kiyoka, my lord... it's my fault... if only I weren't here..." She clutched his hand. Tears spilled from her light-brown eyes, and she wiped them again and again with the sleeve of her sakura-colored kimono, but they would not stop. That night, the monstrous thing born from her nightmare had attacked Kiyoka. He had shielded Miyo and been torn open. The air around her wavered faintly. Something like black mist began to rise from her body. "Miyo!" A woman with loosely curled light-brown hair came rushing in from the doorway. Kudou Hazuki—Kiyoka's elder sister, and a healer. She noticed the change in Miyo and hurriedly put an arm around her shoulders. "No, Miyo. You mustn't blame yourself. Kiyoka fought to protect you. When you grieve, Kiyoka grieves." Her voice had lost its usual brightness and was shaking. Even so, she did not forget to look after Miyo. "Lady Hazuki... but I... my power did this to Kiyoka..." She buried her face in Hazuki's chest and sobbed. "Someone like me shouldn't be at Kiyoka's side. Because I'm here, he gets hurt. Because I'm here, everyone is unhappy." Hazuki shook her head firmly. "That's not true, Miyo. You being here is what changed Kiyoka. Before you came, he was colder, and he never opened his heart to anyone. You melted it. To Kiyoka, you are irreplaceable." "But... but..." Just then, another voice came from outside the room. "Lady Hazuki, Lady Miyo. May I have a moment?" Miyo turned. Hana, the former servant, stood there—the woman who had secretly been her ally since Miyo's days in the Saimori house. "Lady Miyo, please lift your head. When you cry, Lord Kiyoka grieves too. And... there is something I must tell you." She stepped closer and spoke quietly. "Lord Tsuruki is on his way here." Miyo's head came up with a start. "Lord Tsuruki...? But he's forbidden from approaching the Kudou residence..." Hana nodded. "Yes. So he will come in not from the front, but from the rear. I will guide him. Lady Miyo—will you meet him?" She hesitated. If she met Arata, she would only put him in greater danger. But his face rose in her mind. A gentle man, impossible to pin down, with the air of a spring sunbeam about him. "...I'll meet him." She gave a small nod. Behind the Kudou residence, in the shadow of the trees deep in the garden, Arata stood waiting. He wore a black coat with the hood pulled low. He probed the air for presences. No servants. Hana had evidently steered them away well. After a while, Miyo came, led by Hana. She wore a sakura-colored kimono, her soft black hair loosely tied at the back. Her light-brown eyes were swollen red from crying, tear tracks still on her cheeks. He lowered his hood. A gentle smile surfaced in the dim garden. "I came to fetch you." Miyo tilted her head, puzzled. "But I... I can't leave Kiyoka's side. I'm the one who did this to him..." He stepped close to Miyo as her tears welled again, and looked straight into her eyes. "Miyo. Don't you want to save Kiyoka?" She caught her breath. "Save him... but I can't do anything. My power only hurts people..." She stared at her own hands. Those hands had given birth to the monstrous thing that wounded Kiyoka. To her, her power was nothing but a curse. Arata gently closed his hands around hers. The warmth through his white gloves reached her cold fingertips. "Your power exists to save someone." His voice was low and quiet. "My illusions and your dream-weaving. If the two overlap, we can enter Kiyoka's dream. We can speak directly to his deep consciousness. If we do, we may be able to wake him." Miyo's eyes went wide. "Into Kiyoka's... dream?" "Dream-weaving is the power to invade another's dreams. My illusions can amplify it and guide us into Kiyoka's deep consciousness. It's a dangerous gamble. If we fail, both of us will carry deep wounds to the mind. Even so, it's worth doing." Miyo listened without moving. Inside her, a small light kindled. "Miyo. I need you." The words soaked deep into her chest. The first time in her life anyone had said they needed her. In the Saimori house, no one had ever needed her. "Can I... really be of use...? Someone like me, really...?" Her voice trembled with tears. Arata smiled. "Yes. This is something only you can do." Light returned to Miyo's eyes. She wiped her tears and squeezed his hand back. "...I'll do it. I'll do it. I want to save Kiyoka." For the first time, a strong will lived in her voice. They headed for the room where Kiyoka slept. Hazuki was waiting outside the door. When she saw Arata, her eyes flew open in surprise. "Oh my, Arata. Weren't you banished?" Her bright brown eyes fixed on him. "Yes. But I'm here to save Kiyoka. Please look the other way, Lady Hazuki." He bowed deeply. Hazuki studied him for a while, then let out a soft breath. "All right. I'll vouch for you. But absolutely no recklessness. Miyo and you are both precious to me." "Thank you." Inside Kiyoka's room, the air was still. Kiyoka lay on the white bed. His long black hair spread across the pillow, and the braided cord Miyo had made was still wound around the ring finger of his left hand. His face was paper-white, his silver-gray eyes closed. "Kiyoka, my lord..." Miyo sat at the bedside and took his hand. Arata sat on the opposite side. "Let's begin. Miyo, take my hand." He removed his white gloves and offered his bare hand. He enclosed Miyo's hand in his. "I'll amplify your dream-weaving with my illusions. You open the entrance into Kiyoka's dream. I'll guard the path." Miyo gave a small nod. "Please, Lord Arata." The two laid their hands together and closed their eyes. Arata's illusions touched Miyo's dream-weaving. A vast sea of consciousness spread out—dark, deep, full of sorrow. At the bottom of Miyo's heart, the wounds of childhood still lay unhealed. But deeper still, there was a faint light. A pure wish to save Kiyoka. That light resonated with Arata's illusions. The moment the two abilities overlapped, the air in the room shook violently. Their consciousness was drawn down into Kiyoka's deep mind. —Inside Kiyoka's dream. It was an old mansion under a cold rain. A rain-soaked garden. A heavy, imposing house. From deep down the corridor came the sound of a small child crying. He walked toward the sound and found a room with its door slightly ajar. Peering in, he saw a small boy standing there. Long black hair tied back, silver-gray eyes holding a cold light. Kiyoka as a child. Before him stood a woman—a noble lady with cold eyes and a haughty manner. Kiyoka's mother, Fuyu. "You are a cold child, just like me. Who would ever love a child l

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Episode 6

Name: The Dream-Weaver's Grave: Arai Tsuruki's Hidden Heart
Author: Novelia

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