THE WHORL WITHIN THE CLOUD

Chapter 5: THE MARK OF THE PURE



"The priest uncovers a glowing castle mark on Hori's skin … and Shiyi's name appears in the obituary pages."

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February 22nd, 2017. Tokyo. Toriyama Estate, Setagaya District. Basement. Afternoon. 2:00 PM.

They went back to the Toriyama Estate. The house felt colder, darker than before. The air inside seemed thick with bad memories. The basement was exactly as they had left it, except for a thin layer of dust. The stone table still stood in the middle, and the strange symbols were still marked on the floor and walls. The air was heavy, filled with a cold hum that only they seemed to feel.

The priest walked slowly, carefully, around the room. He touched the stone table, his fingers tracing the old carvings. He bent down to look at the symbols on the floor. His face, usually calm, became still and serious. His eyes, fixed on the drawings, showed a clear look of fear.

He straightened up, turning to face them. "This… this is truly dangerous," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "The one who performed these rituals… he was not simply playing with spirits. He was trying to connect himself to another world." The priest paused, his gaze sweeping over the symbols. "And it is a dangerous world indeed."

Kento, his heart pounding, asked, "Which world, Holy Father? What world are you talking about?"

The priest closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly. "It is a place believed only to be a legend among men. A place spoken of in the oldest scrolls, a world that exists, but few have ever truly touched. It is a world where the beings are pure. They are unlike humans, who are greedy and selfish and cause destruction." He looked at them with a sad, knowing expression. "The person who tried to go there… who tried to bridge this gap… he must be already dead. Such a world would not tolerate his kind of darkness. Their purity would have rejected and destroyed him."

A wave of dread washed over Kento. Akira, then. He was truly gone.

But Shido spoke up, his voice filled with desperation. "But what about us, Holy Father?! We never tried to connect ourselves to another world! We never had a wish to do it! Why are we being punished?"

The priest looked at Shido, then slowly walked to a large, ancient book he had brought with him. He opened it, flipping through dusty pages covered in strange drawings and old writings. He looked at them again. "Tell me," he said, his voice thoughtful. "How did the creature look? The one you saw in the basement."

Hori, after a moment, reached into her bag. Her hand trembled as she pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was a drawing, carefully kept. She had found it among Tamiko's things, a sketch she had made after that terrifying night. She held it out to the priest. It showed a shadowy, tall figure with burning eyes and long, twisting limbs, just as they remembered.

Shido saw the drawing. He looked at it, then at Hori. A sudden memory hit him. His eyes widened. "Hori," he said, his voice low. "That drawing… it wasn't drawn by you. Was it?" He knew the style, the particular way the lines curved.

Hori looked at him, a sad, knowing smile on her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "You should know, Shido."

Shido swallowed hard, his throat tight. "Tamiko," he whispered.

Hori nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes. "Yes. She drew it after that night. Said she needed to… get it out."

The priest took the drawing from Hori. He looked at it, his eyes widening. He held it closer, his breath catching. His face, already serious, now showed pure, deep shock. He looked up from the drawing, his gaze locking onto Kento.

Without a word, the priest stepped towards Kento. He began to look at him physically, his eyes scanning Kento's face, his hands almost reaching out as if to feel an aura. Kento flinched, feeling a chill run down his spine.

"Why… why are you looking at me like that, Holy Father?" Kento asked, his voice shaking.

The priest's eyes were fixed on Kento's, ancient and filled with a terrible understanding. "Tell me, young man," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it sounded like thunder. "What did the creature say... specifically... to you?"

Kento's breath hitched. The words, cold and sharp, echoed in his memory, as clear as the day they were spoken. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, staring at the priest.

"It said..." Kento began, his voice barely a whisper, filled with the weight of the coming doom, "It said... 'One by one, I will take you all!'"

Shido's face crumpled. His eyes, already full of grief for Tamiko, now burned with fresh pain. "One by one?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "But... one of us is already gone, Holy Father! Tamiko! She... she's dead!" His voice broke with sorrow.

The priest, instead of looking sad, slowly straightened up. A strange, almost serene smile touched his lips. His deep-set eyes seemed to glow with a quiet, knowing light. "Ah," he breathed, a soft, almost pleased sound. "Then you truly are lucky, children. Truly chosen."

Shido stared at him, his grief quickly turning to a blazing anger. 'Lucky? Chosen? He's laughing. He's laughing at Tamiko's death!' His body tensed. "What did you say?!" he roared, and in a flash, he lunged forward, grabbing the priest's robes, his fist clenching the old man's collar tightly. "How dare you?! How dare you say we're lucky after what happened to Tamiko?!"

Kento instantly reacted, grabbing Shido's arm. "Shido, stop! Let go of him!" Kento tried to pull him back, his own mind reeling from the priest's strange words. Hori rushed forward too, her eyes wide with fear. "Shido, please! Don't!"

But the priest didn't fight back. He stood still, letting Shido hold his collar. Then, with surprising speed and strength, he reached out and grabbed Hori's wrist. His grip was tight, cold, and painful.

Hori gasped, a cry of pain escaping her lips. "Ow! Let go! You're hurting me!" She struggled, trying to pull her arm free, her face twisting in discomfort.

Kento saw Hori's pain. His protective instincts flared up. 'He's harassing them! He's not helping, he's hurting!' He pulled harder on Shido, then raised his free hand, ready to punch the priest in the face. "Let her go, old man! What are you doing?!"

Just as Kento's fist was about to connect, the priest's voice cut through the air, calm but sharp. "Look!" he commanded.

Kento froze, his fist hanging in the air. Shido, still holding the priest's collar, looked down, following the priest's gaze. Hori, still struggling, also looked at her own wrist where the priest's fingers were clamped.

On Hori's skin, right where the priest's thumb pressed, a strange marking was slowly appearing. It began as faint, shimmering lines, but quickly became clear. It was a perfect, intricate design, shaped like a pure white castle, almost as if it was made of crystal. It seemed to glow faintly against her skin, both beautiful and terrifying.

Hori stared at it, her struggles stopping. Her eyes widened, filled with disbelief and fresh terror. "I... I never had this before!" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What is this?"

The priest's face softened, but his eyes were filled with an intense, almost excited interest. "This... this is truly fascinating," he murmured, more to himself than to them. He looked directly at Hori, his gaze piercing. "This mark, child, means that next is your turn."

Kento felt a wave of icy dread, quickly followed by a burning rage. This man was not helping them; he was a madman, gloating over their suffering, practically announcing Hori's death!

"You're insane!" Kento shouted, his voice cracking with fury. He finally shoved Shido away and stepped between Hori and the priest. "Get out! Just get out! You've gone mad! We don't need your help! Leave us alone!"

The priest slowly released Hori's wrist. He looked at Kento with a strange, sad expression. He began to back away, his eyes still holding that unsettling light. "You have to believe me, children," he said, his voice soft again, almost a whisper. "You are not just victims. You are chosen ones. This is not simply a curse, but a connection. A... a test." He paused at the basement door, his gaze lingering on them, then he turned and slowly walked out, his footsteps echoing up the stairs.

A moment later, they heard the front door open and close, and then silence. He was gone.

Kento immediately turned to Hori. His hands gently took her marked wrist, his earlier anger replaced by deep concern. "Hori? Are you alright? Does it hurt?"

Hori stared at the glowing white mark, tears streaming down her face now, not just from pain, but from shock and overwhelming fear. "I... I never had this, Kento," she sobbed, her voice small and broken. "Never. What does it mean?"

Kento pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close as she trembled. He looked over her shoulder at Shido, whose face was ashen, staring at Hori's wrist with horror. The curse was no longer just a vague threat. It was real, it was here, and it had claimed its first victim, now leaving its terrifying mark on the next.

February 22nd, 2017. Tokyo. Kento's Home, Suginami District. Evening. 5:00 PM.

The ride back to Kento's home was silent, thick with dread. Hori held her marked wrist, hidden under her sleeve, but the image of the glowing crystal castle was burned into their minds. The priest's words echoed: 'Next is your turn.'

Once inside the familiar, but no longer truly safe, Kamitani home, they went straight to Kento's room. The light from the window seemed dim, unable to push away the darkness that had followed them. Hori pulled up her sleeve, revealing the mark. It was still there, vibrant and unsettling, a tiny, perfect structure etched onto her skin. It didn't hurt as much now, but its presence was a constant, chilling reminder.

"What does it mean?" Hori whispered again, tracing the delicate lines with a trembling finger. "He said it means I'm 'next.' Like... like Tamiko?" Her voice caught on Tamiko's name, the raw grief fresh in the air.

Shido sank onto Kento's bed, burying his face in his hands. "He's crazy," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "He's a madman. He enjoyed seeing us scared." 'But he knew. He knew about the other world. He knew what Akira did. What if he's not mad?'

Kento stood over Hori, his jaw tight. "Crazy or not, he showed us this." He pointed to the mark. "And it wasn't there before." His gaze hardened. "He called us 'chosen ones.' A 'test.' What kind of test kills people, one by one?" His mind raced, trying to find a logical explanation, any shred of hope. "We need to understand this mark. What kind of power is it? Why you, Hori?"

They spent hours talking, replaying every word the priest said, every detail from the basement. They tried to research the 'pure world' or 'crystal castle marks' online, but found nothing that truly matched. The internet was full of folklore and legends, but none spoke of something so specific, so real. The world outside their secret seemed oblivious, caught up in the news of the 'tragic plane accident.' This isolation made their terror even deeper.

The memory of Ryuichi and Shiyi's silence hung heavy in the air. Hori had tried calling Shiyi again on the way home, only for Kenji to answer again, politely but firmly asking them to leave Shiyi alone. Ryuichi still wasn't answering. The group was splintering, and now, a new and direct threat loomed over Hori. They were three against an invisible enemy, armed only with a terrifying mark and the chilling words of a strange priest. The clock was ticking.

February 25th, 2017. Tokyo. Hori's Home, Shibuya District. Morning. 9:00 AM.

A few days later, the tension was a heavy shroud over everything. Hori, unable to sit still, wandered into her living room, her mind restless. The glowing mark on her wrist, hidden under her sleeve, was a constant, chilling presence. She picked up the remote, flipping through channels, desperately hoping to find anything to distract herself from their terrifying reality.

Suddenly, a news report caught her eye. The bright, sharp voice of the reporter filled the quiet room. "We are bringing you breaking news from Bunkyo District. A tragic incident has occurred..."

Hori paid little attention at first. Such news was tragically common. But then, details began to emerge that made her blood run cold.

"...a sixteen-year-old girl was found this morning, having apparently taken her own life by jumping from the terrace of her home. Police were alerted by her younger brother..."

Hori froze, her hand gripping the remote. 'Sixteen-year-old? Younger brother?'

"...The victim was a student at Southbridge High School, currently in her second year..."

A wave of icy dread washed over Hori. Southbridge. That was their school. She felt a sickening lurch in her stomach. The reporter continued, mentioning a note found at the scene. "...Police report a note was found stating she was 'tired' and 'could no longer bear all the trouble.'"

Hori's breath hitched. 'Tired? Trouble? Shiyi…'

Then, the reporter's voice, clear and cold, delivered the final, devastating blow. "The identity of the deceased has been confirmed as Lu Shiyi."

The remote slipped from Hori's numb fingers, clattering onto the floor. "No," she whispered, her voice a raw, broken sound. "No! It can't be!" Tears sprang to her eyes, hot and immediate. 'Shiyi... it was Shiyi.' The mark on her own wrist seemed to burn with a terrifying new heat.

She scrambled for her phone, her hands shaking so violently she almost dropped it. She frantically dialed Kento's number, her mind screaming. When he answered, her voice was a strangled sob.

"Kento! Kento, turn on the TV! It's Shiyi! She's... oh, God, she's gone!"

February 27th, 2017. Tokyo. Yanaka Cemetery, Taito District. Morning. 11:00 AM.

Two days later, a cold, grey morning settled over Yanaka Cemetery. A small group of people stood around a freshly dug grave. The air was heavy, not just with the chill of winter, but with a profound, unspoken sorrow.

After all investigations were completed, Shiyi's body had been released to her only family: her younger brother, Kenji. He stood by the grave, a small, solitary figure in a dark suit that was too big for him. His face was pale, his eyes red and swollen, but he shed no more tears. He seemed numb, utterly alone in his grief.

Kento, Shido, and Hori stood together, a little distance from the small group of mourners. Their faces were etched with a different kind of pain, a secret horror that made their tears silent and internal. They grieved for Shiyi, for her vibrant spirit extinguished so brutally, but also for the terrifying confirmation of the curse's power. 'One by one.' It was happening.

Then, a dark figure approached the grave. It was Kashima. He moved slowly, his usual composed demeanor shattered by a profound sadness. He wore a black coat, and his eyes, usually hidden behind his glasses, seemed raw and swollen. He didn't speak, simply stood near Kenji, a silent sentinel of shared loss. He hadn't responded to any of their calls, but this tragedy had drawn him out.

After the brief, solemn ceremony, as the first shovelfuls of earth fell onto Shiyi's coffin, a few adults approached Kenji. Kento's parents, seeing the small, orphaned boy, came forward, their faces full of sympathy. "Kenji-kun," Kento's mother said gently, "we are so terribly sorry. If there is anything, anything at all we can do..." Kento's father added, "We want to help. Financially, with anything you need. Please, let us." Hori's parents were there too, offering words of comfort, and even Ryuichi's parents, having arrived with him, expressed their condolences and offered support.

Kenji looked up at them, his young eyes distant. He shook his head softly. "Thank you," he said, his voice surprisingly firm, though fragile. "But… my sister… she always taught me to be strong. I don't need charity. I will be alright." His pride, perhaps a reflection of Shiyi's own fierce independence, was heartbreaking to witness. He politely, but firmly, refused their offers.

Kento, Shido, and Hori watched, their hearts aching. They knew Kenji's strength, but they also knew the unbearable weight of the truth he didn't know.

Later, as the small gathering dispersed, Kento, Shido, and Hori saw two solemn-looking people approach Kenji. They wore formal attire, carrying official-looking documents. They spoke quietly to Kenji, who nodded, his shoulders slumped. The friends watched, helpless, as the officials gently took Kenji's hand and led him away from the cemetery. He looked back once, his gaze lingering on the fresh grave, then disappeared with the adults. The government had stepped in. Kenji was being taken to an orphanage. The last piece of Shiyi's family, broken and scattered, a direct consequence of the curse that the world saw as simply a 'tragic suicide.'

The three friends stood there, cold and desolate, the reality of their situation pressing down on them harder than ever. Shiyi was gone. Kenji was gone. Hori bore the mark. And the curse continued its relentless count.

The police came the very next day. They contacted the families of Kento, Shido, Hori, and Ryuichi. Kenji, overwhelmed by grief and desperate for answers, had filed an FIR against the remaining friends. His accusation was simple, heartbreaking, and, from his perspective, entirely true: his sister, Lu Shiyi, had been perfectly fine until that Christmas Day. After going with those friends, she had changed. He believed they were the reason for her suicide.

The shock and confusion on the faces of the parents were immense. Kento's father, a seasoned lawyer, immediately took charge. He represented all the teenagers, even Ryuichi, whose parents were visibly distressed by their son being caught up in such a terrible accusation.

The friends were thoroughly investigated. They sat in cold, sterile interrogation rooms, lights shining in their faces, answering questions about Shiyi's last days. They had to maintain their fabricated story, acting as if they were as bewildered by Shiyi's suicide as anyone else. 'How can we tell them the truth? They'd think we were crazy, or worse.' The pressure was immense. Kento's father calmly defended them, arguing there was no evidence of foul play, that Shiyi's suicide note pointed to her own personal struggles, and that Kenji, in his grief, might be seeking an outlet for his pain.

The police, finding no concrete evidence to support Kenji's accusation beyond his testimony and the friends being the last ones with Shiyi, eventually closed the case. The friends were declared not guilty of any wrongdoing.

But the ordeal had a lasting impact. Shortly after the investigation concluded, Ryuichi's parents made a drastic decision. They were already worried about Ryuichi's withdrawn nature since the Toriyama incident, and the police investigation had pushed them over the edge. They announced they were moving.

"We're moving to Kyoto," Ryuichi's father told him, his voice firm. His mother stood beside him, her face strained. "And you are to have no contact with Kento, Shido, or Hori. This is for your own good. You've been involved in too much trouble since you met them. We need a fresh start, far away from… all of this."

Ryuichi, perhaps too weary to argue, simply nodded. The bond of their shared secret, which had brought them to the cemetery, was now officially severed by his parents' fear and protective instincts.

The three remaining friends – Kento, Shido, and Hori – stood on their own, the world outside seeing them as innocent, but they knew the horrifying truth. Shiyi was gone, not by choice, but taken. Kenji was gone to an orphanage, his family shattered. Ryuichi was gone, isolated by his parents. And Hori bore the pure white mark, a chilling countdown to the curse's next move. The world had failed to see their true enemy, and they were left alone to face it, their numbers dwindling, the grip tightening.

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📌 AUTHOR'S NOTE —

This chapter shattered me.

✧ Tamiko's sketch, the priest's grip, the pure-white castle burning on Hori's wrist… and then Shiyi. I wrote that scene with tears on my keyboard. Watching Kenji walk away with strangers felt like the curse stole two lives at once. 💔

💬 TALK TO ME:

• Was the priest a help or a horror? 

• Whose loss hit you hardest: Tamiko, Shiyi, or Kenji? 

• Any theories about the "pure world" and why it marks its next victim?

⚡ NEXT CHAPTER TEASE (Chapter 6: "The Pure World Awaits") 

 A midnight phone-call drags Kento back to Hori's empty house … and the mark on her wrist is no longer small.

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Thank you for reading and for staying brave with me. 

– SakuraShinomiya 

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