I am cursed.
Like they always said.
I didn't have a name back then.
No one ever called me anything.
Not unless it was to tell me to leave.
Or to be quiet.
Or to stop crying.
But I didn't cry.
Never.
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"Hayato, Takumi regrets what he did!"
"If he hadn't talked, Uzumi would've torn him and Kai apart!"
"Rei! Look at his eyes—this isn't the Hayato we know!"
"The demon's lost all control!"
"His eye's burning—he's not even moving!"
"Dark Crimson… this level—"
"This can't be real. This… this is divine wrath!"
"Level 4… Tier 5! No—he's not a warrior anymore!"
"Takumi! That's not even a person now!"
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I was eight.
Maybe nine.
No one ever told me.
I remember the cold.
I remember the ache in my feet.
The wind howling like it wanted to push me off.
I remember standing at the edge.
Watching the rocks below.
Wondering if it would hurt.
I didn't move.
Didn't step forward.
Didn't step back either.
I just waited.
For someone.
For something.
For the wind to decide.
But nothing came.
Not that day.
That was my first time in the abyss.
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"How is he still moving with that power?!
He doesn't feel anything!"
"There's only one voice in his head right now…"
"And it's not ours!"
"When we said 'demon'… we weren't joking…"
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[Flashback – Memory in the Blood]
Small fists.
Too small to fight back.
"You're useless."
"Freak."
"Don't look at me with that eye."
A shadow kicks a small Hayato in the ribs.
Another voice laughs.
Rain mixes with blood.
He's maybe six.
Maybe less.
No one comes.
He opens his mouth to scream—
But in the memory, he doesn't.
Not once.
Not even then.
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"Gods—he tore his throat open!"
"What are you doing, Demon?! He was our friend!"
"Stop! Look at his eye—this is Level 5… Tier 5!!"
"Pitch black! Gods, how is this possible?!"
"This... this isn't a person anymore.
This is something born from hell.
Hayato… please! Come back! Please hear us!"
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I didn't cry when I was beaten.
Didn't cry when I starved.
Didn't cry when they dragged me out by the cursed eye and left me in the gutter.
Didn't cry even when Renji found me half-dead.
Didn't even cry when Kana fell.
And when Watari died.
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"Takumi! Look at his right eye!"
"The cursed one—it's black too!"
"My gods… both his eyes… they're gone."
"This isn't a form anymore. It's… something born to end us."
"Our strikes—nothing's working!"
"Kai! Fall back—"
"...Kai!!"
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I almost cried when the other kids beat me.
When they mocked me.
When they spat on me.
I wanted to cry when Renji saved me.
When everyone in the camp looked at me with fear and pain.
When I thought Kana and Yui would leave me.
When Renji reached out to me again.
I wanted to cry when Kana fell.
And when Watari died.
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"Ha... ya... to…
I... am... sor... ry..."
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I am sorry, Renji.
I am sorry, Watari.
I am sorry, Yui.
I am sorry, Kana.
Truth is...
I was the One-Eyed Demon.
I was the Cursed Boy.
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When I was laid down.
The sky looked like it was about to cry.
Blood streamed from my body like tears.
But no tears fell from my eyes.
Not until now.
Now… I feel warmth.
In my right eye.
The cursed one.
So this is what it feels like… to finally cry.
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This was the end of Volume One.
The story will continue with 1–2 chapters per week.
Thank you all for reading and supporting the journey so far.
Your feedback and presence mean everything.
To those silently reading — thank you.
But if you ever feel like saying something…
even one word means more than you think.