[discontinued] Spectre ━━ Yuuji Itadori

Prologue ━ Spectre

prologue, Spectre

IBURI USAGI HAD BEEN BORN A PECULIARITY. The youngest child of Lord Iburi Kuragari had been born frail, limbs to be treated as glass would: with utmost care. Once the child had come out weeks too early, painted in crimson all for her deathly white skin, she had taken on the appearance of a restless spirit yearning for revenge.

In her mother's arms, the little girl found comfort. Her hair a dark ebony, the shade her mother's hair also had, pilled on the top of her head, curling slightly, and her eyes were shut tightly, crinkled. No sound came from the newborn, she was as tranquil as the dead.

The medical staff did all they could to help their Lord's child, to have the child make at least one sound to confirm that she lived. She breathed through her nose, so unnoticeable that it did not even flare. Her heartbeat pondered at the touch of her soft skin, barely noticeable. In the future, when Kuragari would speak of the day, he would say he had considered his child to be in a limbo between the dead and the living: a spectre.

When the first wail rushed past her tiny lips, echoing in the room as a powerful force would in spite of her frail body, her father knew that she would become a force to be reckoned with. After all, hours after being born, she had avoided death once already. It was now that he noticed snowy-white hairs also curling on top of her head, identical to his own. The moment she opened her eyes to reveal mismatched ones identical to his own, dread ran down his spine. She was alike to him, they shared so many similarities, a kin of his. Whether that was a good thing, he did not know.

Years later, Kuragari knew his prediction to be true. Without a doubt, his daughter, his youngest born, was truly his kin, 'a perfect heir' the people whispered. Just like him, he was a force to be reckoned with, unruly as her hair and cold as his eyes. Born prodigal, 'the one who had faced death' as they said, Usagi became a threat to his own power. She was the bell that rung his demise. One day she would surpass him, so he knew. Kuragari could not allow that to happen.

"Father, please," Her pleas went unheard. "You don't have to do this."

Kuragari shook his head, mismatched eyes refusing to meet the identical ones of his daughter. "You're wrong. I have to."

"Father," Usagi's eyes glistened with the tears held in them, gaze fixated on the cold man. "Why are you doing this?"

The head of the clan looked up to meet his daughter's eyes, exasperation and sadness swirling in them. "Because you have become a threat to my existence, child." With the last word he spoke, he had schooled his expression into one of nonchalance, no emotion evident.

Kuragari had contemplated several times to kill his own child. Once he had even sent an assassin to the bedroom where she lay, weapon drawn, ready to go in for the kill. The next morning when he walked past her chambers, the head of said assassin laid there, his mouth stood upon, eyes wide.

For his youngest born to be defeated, he had to do it himself. At the same time, he knew he couldn't kill his own flesh and blood. In the present and during the times he was alive, he wanted to be the strongest of them all, a man unbeatable and feared throughout the countries. In the afterlife, he yearned to keep his title and status, to become a living and dead legend. If Kuragari wanted all this to happen, his daughter could not intervene. Her presence as a dead would ring the same bells again. He wouldn't allow that.

"Hereby I, Lord Kuragari Iburi, Head of the Iburi clan, seal you, Usagi Iburi, potential heir to the clan, away for all eternity. You shall never be a threat to myself or my family again. May your soul never come to rest, may your body be kept under chains to never use cursed energy again. Your determination will vanish along with you. In this vase, you will be prisoner, never to be released again."

Usagi's eyes widened in panic, her heart thrumming harshly against her chest. "You are making a mistake!"

"I assure you, child, this is no mistake." Kurigari had his hands raised, cursed energy running between them. In his hands, he tightly clutched a vase, one very familiar to Usagi. It was their clan's heirloom, sacred among all Iburi.

"You-" She sputtered, unable to believe her own eyes. The vase had been given to each heir of the clan for generations now, only to be used in the direst of moments. Usagi had never understood how exactly the cursed object had worked, as it was an anomaly. She knew it had one weakness: it was fragile. Only to be broken by cursed energy (or so she had been told), it took on the appearance of ceramic once something was sealed inside. In the right moment, it would break if enough cursed energy affected the material from both the outside and the inside. But her father was aware of that, he would make sure only her cursed energy would come in touch with it, nothing else to help her escape. It would be kept safe, never to be broken. Never to release her.

"It is necessary, child. I sincerely hope it will be enough."

Tears ran down her cheeks. "Father."

"Were there not your siblings, I would have made you my heir. Father and daughter, by each other's side, as they are destined to be. One more powerful than the other. The problem is ... I am not the powerful one," He shook his head. "That is not how it is meant to be, daughter."

Usagi was absolutely speechless. Were they having a fight, she would have turned around and slammed the door on him in anger and betrayal. But there she stood in the main room of their home, her body kept in place by so many chains, her head was unable to keep count. Each of her limbs was secured against another by chains and locks so heavy, they pulled her down. On her feet, she wobbled, attempting to keep herself upright.

"I have made you weak and this is how you will remain for eternity."

Kuragari was right, she really was weak. As she stood in the wide room, completely baffled and unable to fight back, she felt so feeble. Never before had she felt that way, as though within her own body there was no fight left, only surrendering. From her place up high, she had fallen so far down, the pits of the limbo licking at her ankles.

Iburi Usagi had not only been born a peculiarity but had also vanished one. Once she had avoided death as a mere newborn, another time she looked death in the eyes as a teenager, ceramic engulfing her frame. In an empty void, she was to float for all eternity, left alone with nothing but herself and her thoughts to mull and contemplate over. The limbo was a lonely place, custom-made for a spectre like her.