Cherreads

Chapter 15 - Chapter 15: Cracks Beneath the Surface

Authors Note:

Today I uploaded two Chapters as thanks to Stoic_Enjoyment for their 11 golden Tickets.

Thank you for your support.

Enjoy.

-DyslexicAuthor

——————————————-

The sun already hung high when Kira returned to her spot by the river.

She sat down slowly, knees cracking, and placed the small box and bottle of pills in front of her on the damp grass.

The moment she stopped moving, it all came crashing down again.

The weight.

The dread.

The silence.

She tried to breathe, but each breath felt like a thread fraying in her chest.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the box—then stopped. She clenched her fists instead, digging her nails into her thighs.

The thought spiraled again, louder now, hammering with each beat of her heart.

I'm doomed. I'm doomed. I'm doomed. I'm doomed.

She hugged her legs tightly to her chest, burying her face against her knees.

Her shoulders trembled.

No tears came—

—but her entire body shook.

"Kira?" came a soft voice from her left.

Her head jerked up like a frightened animal. Her eyes were wide, red, burning.

"Kjell?" she rasped, wiping furiously at her face. "What do you want?"

"You weren't home," he said gently. "Today's our training day."

"I forgot," she snapped.

He took a tentative step forward. "Are… are you okay?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" she snapped again—louder, sharper. Even her own voice startled her.

Kjell blinked. "Everyone?"

She looked away, jaw clenched. "Just go away. I don't have time to train with you."

"Why?" he asked, more confused than upset.

Her laugh was bitter, breathless. "Why? Why?"

She stood suddenly and pointed at the river.

"Because no amount of training with you is going to help me stop her! Because there's someone out there who could kill me with a look—and she will, if I don't win that damned tournament!"

Kjell stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

She turned away, shaking. "You wouldn't understand. You're just… you're just treating this like normal training. I'm trying to stay alive."

"Kira, if something's wrong—"

She spun back around, fists clenched at her sides. "Don't you get it!? I'm already dead, Kjell!"

Her voice cracked at the end.

"I'm not strong enough. I'm not fast enough. I don't know the right techniques or strategies. And even if I somehow make it through the first two rounds, there are monsters waiting in the top hundred! I can't breathe anymore! I can't think!"

Her knees buckled slightly. She caught herself with one hand, gasping like she'd been running for hours.

Kjell stepped forward. "Kira—"

"Don't," she said, voice low and broken. "Don't come near me."

He froze.

"I can't afford distractions," she whispered, trembling. "Just like Senior Zhan said. If I allow myself to lean on anyone—I'll die. I know it. So please… just go."

Silence.

Then, after a long moment, Kjell gave a small nod.

"…Alright," he said quietly. "But I'm not giving up on you."

He turned and walked away without another word.

Kira stayed frozen in place.

And when she was sure he was gone—

She collapsed.

The sob broke out of her like a wound. Her breath hitched again and again, then turned into a guttural scream as she slammed her fist into the ground.

Once.

Twice.

Grass and earth scattered around her.

"I hate this," she spat, voice shaking with rage. "I hate this sect. I hate this tournament. I hate her. I hate me!"

She stood up abruptly, swaying. Her vision blurred.

Her hand reached for her sword without thought.

She drew it in a flash, swinging wildly—slicing through the air with no technique, only fury.

A dozen tree branches snapped and fell.

She hacked at the trunk, screaming with each strike.

"I am not going to die like some nobody!"

She poured Qi into her blade without control. Lightning crackled along the edge.

Her next swing shattered the tree clean through.

Splinters flew, some catching in her ebony hair.

The tree collapsed.

As it fell toward her, she struck out with her left hand—shattering the trunk midair. The broken halves were flung into the river and ripped away by the current.

She stood panting, chest heaving, arms shaking, sparks dancing along her blade.

"I am not weak," she whispered. "I can't be."

Her voice cracked. She fell to her knees among the splintered remains.

The rage left her slowly—like water leaking from a cracked jar.

All that remained was the silence of the river…

…and the soft hum of the pearl in the box.

And far away, on a mountain peak, a smile crept across a white-haired woman's divine face.

More Chapters