Beyond, With a Yokai

Chapter 1: Who Are You?

He said it like he was explaining the weather.
The fire on his fingertips slowly faded, and his expression remained eerily calm—which only made her feel worse.

Yesenia furrowed her brow, that icy stone of dread growing heavier in her chest.
A weakened soul? Wants to kill me? But... this has to be a dream, right?

Everything felt so off.
So surreal.

"You said kitsune... You mean like the fox spirits from Japanese mythology?" she asked, reaching for any sense of normalcy, something real.

"Exactly. Hideous. Hunchbacked. Still a fox. You people have a saying, don't you? 'Every family has its freak.' Or do you not believe in Japanese mythology?"

Yesenia took a step back.
Her thoughts were spiraling.
He compared himself to that thing?
Is he saying... he's not human either?

Questions piled up, but none of them brought comfort.
Her chest tightened. Her thoughts started to slip.

"Alright then—what do you want from me?" she snapped, changing the subject in a desperate bid to regain control.

"You talk too much," he grumbled.

"Oh, right. You still haven't figured it out yourself," she said with a snort, hiding her rising panic behind sarcasm.

"What?" He frowned, his expression twisting in irritation.

"Nothing. Just... tell me where I am," she deflected.

"You're definitely not dreaming, バカ."
His voice went cold.
He threw her a sharp glance, like he was studying her reaction.

Baka? Did he seriously just call me stupid in Japanese?

"You're in the astral," he added, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Astral? Like... in movies? Astral, kitsune, baka—what kind of nonsense is this?"

"Not exactly. The astral is the thin world—where hidden forces dwell. It's the bridge between your world and where the soul goes after death. Before heading to heaven or hell," he said lazily, as if none of it really mattered.

"So... I'm dead?" Her voice trembled.

"No. You're alive—for now. But your presence here? That's an anomaly."
His eyes darkened with something more intense—something curious. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Everything you're saying is insane! If I'm not dreaming, how the hell did I get here? Did the bathroom turn out to be some portal to the astral plane? Is this all because I got out of bed?"

He ignored the sarcasm.

"Your mistake wasn't getting out of bed. It was climbing that mountain."

"What does the mountain have to do with anything?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, right," he said, like he'd remembered a detail too trivial to mention.
"I messed with your perception. You remember things the way I wanted you to. In reality, you hit your head on a rock and passed out. Caused a brain hemorrhage. You've been in a coma ever since."

Yesenia froze.
His deadpan tone made it ten times worse.
Brain hemorrhage? Coma? Is he making this up?

She couldn't breathe.

"If that's true... why do I remember something else?"
The words barely made it out.
Her body began to shake under the weight of it all.

"I told you—I distorted your perception. Your soul was too weak to fight back. I built illusions around you to capture you before someone—or something—worse did."