He scraped his nail against the stone, adding another line to the already chaotic cluster of marks.
"That's… another one."
He squinted at the wall. "Maybe I should've used numbers."
He tried to count. One… two… three—
Yeah, no. His eyes bounced everywhere. The impatient part of his brain said months, while his gut said years. Then again, this was the same gut that kept screaming, no more snakes.
So not super trustworthy.
But too bad for his gut—snakes for every meal weren't stopping anytime soon.
Then again, it wasn't like he had many options, unless snakes with different colors counted. In the end, they all tasted the same—like liquid iron.
There was one other way he could track time, but he preferred not to look at it.
His height.
Every time he thought about it, he got depressed.
He measured again, hoping he'd gained something.
Same as before.
Maybe a few inches, if he squinted.
'Comforting.'
'Hey, look on the bright side,' the voice chimed in, smug. 'Being a short stack just means you're harder to hit.'
"Oh right. The stupid voice in my head. How could I forget?"
The day he woke up, he found himself with a random voice in his head. Not only had that annoying thing moved in without permission, it also hadn't paid rent in years.
But one thing he did master was hiding his inner thoughts—though sometimes he forgot the voice existed at all.
"You damn freeloader," he murmured.
Feeling offended, the voice snapped back, 'I paid my share! I helped you train, I did the motivational speeches, I suffered through your whining, and I even taught you how to smooth-talk the ladies. A "thank you" would be nice.'
He didn't respond. More like—couldn't.
His jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes on the ground. As much as he hated to admit it, the voice had helped more than he wanted to acknowledge. It pushed him to train until muscles ripped, then stitched themselves back together stronger.
It taught him a lot—minus the ladies' man part. Shiro was pretty sure he had never even hugged a woman, let alone imagined himself having many wives.
'Whatever. I don't need you,' the voice sobbed, dramatic as a toddler.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Shiro muttered as he lay there staring at the wall full of carvings, still trying to count.
He still didn't know how, but he could see everything in the dark with perfect clarity—every twitch, every tiny movement on the stone floor.
He pushed himself up, his back leaning against the cold wall. Just then, a snake brushed against his ankle. His instincts took over. He grabbed it mid-slither, flicked it up, and sliced cleanly—his hand moving as sharply as a blade.
It fell in four neat pieces, still twitching like they hadn't gotten the memo.
"Just you wait," he muttered, his voice trembling with rage. "I'll burn the Kurohana clan to the ground."
'Yesss, we will tear them into pieces first, then burn them,' the voice added eagerly.
"Yes, yes, that sounds even better," he replied. He jabbed a nail into one of the still-living pieces, lifted it, and flicked it into his mouth.
'Come on, come on, let's get the hell out of here,' the voice urged. 'Then we can eat all the meat curry we want.'
Shiro blinked. "What's… curry?"
A stunned silence followed.
'What do you mean, what's curry?' the voice screeched. 'You've seriously never had it?'
"You live in my head," he muttered, fiddling with one of the twitching pieces using his nail. "Pretty sure you should know what I've eaten."
The voice huffed. 'Just because I live here rent-free doesn't mean I snoop in your private memories.'
"Oh, that's so considerate," Shiro muttered. "Didn't know parasites had manners."
The voice, ignoring his insults, snapped, 'Quit yapping and let's move already.'
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, his lip twitching despite himself. "Don't rush me. I'm savoring my dramatic escape."
'You've been savoring it for five years.'
It wasn't like he didn't try. He did—countless times. But he always ended up right back where he started. He tried leaving checkpoints too, only for them to disappear the moment his back was turned. Sneaky bastards.
Frustrated, he stopped searching—one more attempt away from losing his mind completely.
So he waited instead, hoping someone from his clan would finally come to check on the snakes—considering he had almost eaten them into extinction.
He waited. And waited.
But no one ever came.
Seeing how impatient the voice was, he pushed himself up and tied his hair back using his own strands. What was once black now hung silver. In his hand was a rusted sword—pitted, brittle… but still a weapon. A shitty one of all kinds.
'That's a shitty sword.'
He raised the rusted blade. "Trust me, I'm aware."
He returned to where his father had thrown him down. The wall loomed high, still mocking him.
"What the hell are you looking at, bastard?" he screamed.
He crouched, testing his legs, wondering if he could climb up. But the shaft was sealed, blocked from every side. It felt endless—like it stretched forever upward. He couldn't even make out where the well ended.
That was when he realized this place wasn't the same well.
He had been circling this whole time.
This place was an endless maze.
And he was sure the voice knew it too—but hid it from him.
He didn't bother confronting it. It probably had its reasons.
So he kept following the tunnels, hoping to come across something. Maybe a clue.
And he didn't have to wait long.
He ran into something unusual.
Something he had never seen before.
A small entrance—just large enough for someone his size to pass through. Faint light leaked from the cracks. Pale. White.
"What do we have here…"
'Freedom!' the voice shouted.
His fingers traced the cold edge. The chill scraped his skin, stealing the breath from his body. His chest tightened, like his body forgot how to breathe.
To make things worse, snakes slithered around his ankles like pets. One hissed, its scales scraping against his legs.
He looked down, shocked. For a moment, he thought he heard a word—
'Go.'
"Wait… did you say something?" Shiro whispered, wanting to make sure he wasn't losing his mind.
'No. I thought that was you. I'm… uh… scared. Hold me,' the voice yelped. 'Preferably tightly. And immediately.'
Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great. The parasite's scared too. Just shut up for once and let me figure this out."
His options were limited. He could turn back and go nowhere—or listen to his gut full of snake and move forward.
"Glowing light plus a talking snake—if that's not the universe telling me to go, then I don't know what is."
'You're probably right. We should go back,' the voice wavered.
"I didn't say anything about going back."
'You sure? Because I clearly heard me say it in your voice, which totally counts.'
"Oh, don't be a scaredy-cat. It's an adventure. Let's have fun on this journey," Shiro muttered, trying to imitate the voice's usual tone.
That seemed to snap its personality back to normal—just like that. All it took was a little encouragement.
'That's the spirit!' the voice cheered, overly dramatic. 'Well, I guess my job is done. It's time for me to leave.'
"Really?" Shiro's face lit up. "Awesome. Don't let the door hit you on the way out of my head."
'I was kidding,' the voice said. 'Wow. Guess you really don't want me here.'
Shiro frowned. "Damn it. Got excited for no reason."
The voice groaned. 'Whatever. Let's go.'
Shiro sighed. "Stop whining. You know I'm just messing with you. You're the closest thing I ever had… to a family."
And the voice went quiet.