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Kenji's days in the hospital became a blur of routine and isolation, but at night, the world came alive in ways only he could perceive. The whispers he once dismissed as nightmares now spoke with intent, their emotions vivid and overwhelming regret, anger, and sorrow filled the void left by his fading memories.
As the nights grew darker, so did his awareness. Shadows around him began to move unnaturally, responding to his thoughts and emotions. At first, it was subtle barely perceptible flickers in the corners of the room. Over time, Kenji realized he could command them. He experimented cautiously, stretching shadows along walls, coiling them like smoke, or drawing them together into dense shapes.
One night, in a moment of curiosity, Kenji tried to reach for the shadow of a small flower vase on the windowsill. The shadow obeyed, twisting upward until it seemed to wrap around the vase itself. But his focus faltered, and the vase shattered, the noise echoing through the quiet ward.
Before he could react, a nurse entered. Her eyes widened as she saw the unnaturally darkened room, the faint trails of shadow still lingering in the air. Kenji froze, his breath caught in his chest. The nurse let out a scream and ran, leaving the door swinging open behind her.
The shadows recoiled, their whispers rising in intensity. For the first time, Kenji felt their judgment, their disapproval. He wanted to shout back, to silence them, but his voice felt trapped in his throat.
The next day, doctors and nurses avoided his room. He overheard them speaking in hushed tones outside his door, their words heavy with fear. That evening, two orderlies arrived to move him to a new wing, isolated from the other patients.
Alone in the sterile, silent room, Kenji stared into a small mirror mounted on the wall. The scar running across his face was a stark reminder of his past, of the man who had tried to kill him. But as he looked closer, he saw something more: determination. Whatever these powers were, they were his. He would master them, not out of fear, but because they felt like the only part of him that truly belonged.
The whispers quieted as if waiting for him to act. Kenji clenched his fists, feeling the darkness within him stir, and for the first time, he accepted it as part of who he became.
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