Naraku: A Horror Hellfare

An Apprehensive Assurance

A long pause followed his response.

The monk stood up, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he moved across the room. The faint hum of spiritual energy filled the air.

Ran watched him in desperation, eyes glued to every single action of his movement.

The spiritual leader’s voice was low and serious as he spoke. "If you choose this path... you must be prepared for what awaits you. The journey to Naraku is not one of mortal understanding. There are forces at play you cannot begin to fathom."

The crackling of the incense intensified slightly, adding to the tension. Ran felt a tremor rising within him. This is not how he wanted things to go. He was not optimistic with how this conversation was going. 

He hoped for positivity, yet was getting a feeling that his hopes might just be crushed.

The Monk was speaking softly. "Once you begin, there will be no turning back."

Silence followed for a few seconds, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. 

The Monk was not telling him anything he didn't already know, anything he had not already accepted. 

His determination was beyond measure. He was ready to do this. He was willing to sojourn to hell no matter the cost.

His voice firm, unwavering, he declared his resolute intent. "I don’t care. I’ll do it."

The monk exhaled deeply, as if coming to a difficult decision. There was a soft rustle of his robe as he walked toward a shelf, the faint clinking of metal as he pulled out an ancient scroll.

Ran examined the scroll, narrowing his eyes. It was quite long, as long as his forearm. It was yellow with age and the Monk's grip on it was gentle, as though fearing to break it with even the slightest firmness.

Holding the scroll, the Monk spoke, seriousness overwhelming in his voice. "Then come tomorrow. I will have an answer for your request then."

Ran sighed, partly in relief and partly in apprehension. 

There was a possibility that the Monk was willing to help him out. That he was not outright dismissing him alluded to that. But then again, him not agreeing immediately left the possibility open, that he just may decline the request tomorrow.

This was a half assurance situation. Ran was not going to be comfortable until he got his full assurance. 

Regardless, there was not much he could do. He would just have to pray to every deity he knew, pray that the Monk would be willing to help him and will not deny him his quest tomorrow.

Still yet to receive any direct command to get going, Ran remained standing and watched attentively as the spiritual leader examined the scroll.

There was a dry sound that came from the scroll being unfurled. 

The wind outside grew quieter, and the storm seemed to have receded slightly, as if waiting for what was to come. 

The chanting of monks slowly resumed in the background.

"May your will be as unbreakable as your words, Kaito Ran,” the Monk spoke up, once more, ever solemn.

Taking that as his dismissal, Ran gave a bow in farewell. 

He did not bother himself to question how the Monk was aware of his name. After all, this was a man who was rumored to have held close the gates of hell for a week before other monks assisted him in closing it finally.

That was how the Monk rose to fame. How he earned the title of the Supreme Spiritualist.

The faint toll of the monastery bell sounded off as Ran turned and walked away. His footsteps echoing upon his exit, the wind picking up once more.

He stood outside, letting the rain soak him wet as he cast his mind to all that had happened since his father was taken.

He was not going to give up. He was not going to rest. He will do everything in his power. He might be sounding repetitive to himself but this was his self-assurance, one he needed more than anything except the Monk's help.

He felt a biting cold seep into him as strong winds blew over his little, wet frame. He ignored it. It was nothing to the cold he felt inside in the absence of his father.

The only reason he was yet to burst into tears and lament about his situation was due to the self realisation that he cannot afford to. There was no time for sorrow. It clinged to his heart, yes, but there was no time to address its presence and the impact it had on his psyche.

Well, all was done, when he had his father by his side again, then all would finally be well. Everything would be alright with the world. 

All will be fine with him.

He’d done something productive today in regards to achieving that. This was just the first step. There were still many more to take.

“This is just the beginning,” he whispered to himself, assuringly, as he walked away from the Monastery.

“I will go to Naraku. I will bring my father back.”

To face hell, one must first face themself.

The rain and thunder, in a clash, symbolized his internal turmoil and the gravity of his decision to pursue a path to Naraku. He was resolute in this.

He thought back to his moment of weakness. The sound returned to him. The flick and drop of the knife dramatizing his initial contemplation of suicide.

He shook his head to forget about that for now. 

He left the monastery, basking in its atmosphere for the last time. “At least, until my return tomorrow.”

The sound of chanting monks, bells, and incense enhancing the spiritual environment hung back as background noise as he made his exit.

The recollection of the spiritual leader’s deep, measured voice, adding weight to the conversation and conveying the man’s spiritual wisdom burned into his memory as he assured himself more for hope for the morrow.

The incense and spiritual energy clinged to him even after he left. The crackling incense and humming energy, Ran felt, suggested the power of the monk and the seriousness of his request. 

He was happy to have a modicum of it clinging to him. It was a reminder that this was not over, today he did not fail. 

He’d be back tomorrow and everything was going to be alright. The foundation of his quest would be laid. The seed had been sown and now it was time to let nature take its course.