Day 5: A Strange Desire
Akira awoke with a newfound confidence. After discovering he could subtly influence Ayaka’s decisions, he was eager to test the boundaries of his abilities. As Ayaka’s day unfolded, Akira found himself drawn to the idea of indulging in something completely out of her strict routine.
"Wouldn’t it be nice if she just relaxed today? Forget all the formalities, the responsibilities… maybe spend the afternoon in the saunas," he thought, focusing intensely.
To his satisfaction, Ayaka paused in the middle of reviewing documents, her hand hovering over a report. "Perhaps… I’ve been too tense lately. A little time in the saunas could be refreshing," she mused internally. Without further hesitation, she arranged her schedule, clearing her afternoon for relaxation.
Akira observed with fascination as Ayaka made her way to the private saunas within the Kamisato Estate. The soft glow of lanterns reflected off the polished wooden floors, casting a serene ambiance. She entered the changing area, her delicate fingers unfastening the clasps of her armor with practiced ease. Piece by piece, she set them aside—shoulder guards, arm bracers, and finally the chest plate—revealing the soft, smooth fabric of her undergarments. Her movements were graceful, a reflection of her disciplined upbringing. Akira hadn't realized until now, but Kamisato Ayaka was beautiful, her skin was white as snow, her figure was impeccable and above all she had very good proportions. "I wish I had had the opportunity to meet her when I was alive"
Wrapped in a light yukata, Ayaka stepped into the sauna where the warm mist greeted her like an old friend. She wasn’t alone; a few of her trusted female attendants were already there, enjoying a rare moment of leisure. The atmosphere was relaxed, filled with the gentle hum of casual conversation.
“Lady Ayaka, joining us today? That’s a rare sight,” one of the attendants, Sayo, teased with a playful grin.
Ayaka chuckled softly, settling onto a wooden bench. “I suppose even the most disciplined swords need to be sheathed and cared for from time to time.”
Another attendant, Mika, glanced over with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Careful, Lady Ayaka. If you relax too much, we might forget you’re not just one of us. Though, with a figure like yours, it’s hard not to notice.”
Ayaka blushed lightly, waving off the comment with a graceful laugh. “Mika, you should mind your tongue—or I might assign you double duty tomorrow.”
The women shared a lighthearted laugh, the tension of the day melting away with the steam. Akira observed, a mix of admiration and curiosity swirling within him. There was a softness to Ayaka here, among those she trusted, far from the formalities of her public persona.
However, as the hours passed, Akira’s curiosity shifted. "What’s next? What new power will reveal itself?" he wondered, eagerly awaiting another evolution of his influence.
But something was different. Ayaka, amidst the tranquility of the sauna, began to reflect.
"Why have I been acting so… impulsively lately? Choosing spicy food, writing about ninjas, and now this sudden need for relaxation. It’s unlike me," she thought, a frown creasing her usually serene face.
Akira’s heart skipped. "She’s starting to notice…" The realization brought a mix of excitement and apprehension. Was his influence slipping, or was it becoming more noticeable?
Day 6: A Silent Dialogue
The next day, Akira tried to push further, attempting to nudge Ayaka towards spontaneous decisions. But nothing changed. She followed her routine with her usual precision, unaffected by his silent suggestions.
"What’s happening? Why isn’t it working?" Akira thought, frustrated. He concentrated harder, trying to recreate the subtle manipulations of the previous days. But Ayaka remained steady, her actions entirely her own.
However, something shifted in Ayaka’s demeanor. During her afternoon tea, she paused, staring thoughtfully into her cup.
"I know someone is there… watching, lingering. I don’t know how I know, but I feel it. Whoever you are… stop interfering in my life." Her inner voice was sharp, tinged with frustration and curiosity.
Akira froze. "She’s talking to me? But… I can’t respond." He tried, desperately focusing his thoughts, but there was no way to bridge the gap.
Ayaka stood abruptly, her heart racing. "Why do I feel this connection? It’s like an echo in my mind. If you’re real… if you’re truly there—then show yourself. Give me a sign."
Akira concentrated harder than ever before, focusing all his thoughts on one idea: "Go to the prison. Find me."
Ayaka blinked, a sudden, inexplicable urge tugging at her. "The prison…? Why would I…? No, this is ridiculous." She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought, but the pull remained.
By evening, Ayaka’s resolve wavered. "Perhaps… perhaps I should visit. Just to put my mind at ease," she decided, her steps already carrying her towards the Tenryou Commission.
Day 7: The Limits of Power
Yet, Ayaka couldn’t ignore the persistent feeling—a lingering presence that seemed to whisper in the back of her mind. Frustrated, she sighed deeply during a meeting, her thoughts wandering.
"This is ridiculous. If this presence won’t leave me alone, perhaps visiting the prison will put an end to this nonsense," she thought reluctantly.
Later that day, Ayaka made her way to the Tenryou Commission prison, her steps hesitant but determined to confront whatever was haunting her. As she arrived, the sound of Kujou Sara’s stern voice echoed through the halls.
“You left him in this state? Unacceptable!” Sara barked at the guards, her expression fierce with barely contained rage. Ayaka’s curiosity grew as she approached.
“Sara,” Ayaka called softly, and the Tengu turned sharply, her eyes narrowing before softening with respect.
“Lady Ayaka. What brings you here?” Sara asked, her tone formal but tinged with frustration.
“I… felt compelled to visit. What happened here?” Ayaka inquired, glancing past Sara to see guards standing awkwardly.
Sara sighed heavily. “It’s Akira. The fool’s been in a coma. The guards neglected him, and now he’s barely holding on.” She rubbed her temple, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. “You may see him if you wish. If he wakes up, he’s free to go. It’s not like he’s a threat anymore.”
Ayaka nodded, her heart unexpectedly heavy. She proceeded to Akira’s cell, where the sight before her made her chest tighten.
Akira’s body lay on the cold stone floor, frail, pathetic, and decrepit. His form was a shadow of vitality, breathing shallowly, skin pale under the dim light.
"So this… is me," Akira thought, horrified. But then, something caught his attention—a faint, glowing red string connecting his ethereal form to his lifeless body.
Driven by instinct, he reached for it. As his fingers brushed the thread, a surge of warmth coursed through him, pulling him closer to his old self.
Ayaka suddenly felt a shift. The presence that had lingered within her for days was fading. She stepped closer, her hand resting gently on the cold bars.
“Goodbye, Akira,” she whispered softly, her voice carrying a warmth that surprised even her. She turned to leave, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Akira panicked. "Wait—do I really want to go back? Back to that? To that weak, pathetic existence?" His heart raced with fear and uncertainty.
As Ayaka’s silhouette grew distant, the thread pulsed, urging him to decide. "Is this who I want to be? Or… do I belong somewhere else?"
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
