The sound of a door closing in the [Infinity Castle] was never there.
Only a sensation reached him, as if one more layer of the world had grown thin beneath Kokushibo’s feet. When he stepped through that thinness, air of a different texture filled his lungs.
The sharp scent of earth, wet stone, and old wood. Each time he slipped out from the edge of the [Infinity Castle] into the outside world, he touched the back of a season he had never seen before.
This time, it was the season of water.
The riverbed, stripped bare of moonlight, split open with a low, breath-like sigh. The water had grown shallow. Reeds along the bank rustled their loose down in the dark, as if trying not to lose their way.
Kokushibo stepped onto the riverbank. His toes did not get wet. His shadow did not mingle with the water. His vow not to leave a scent had already settled into his body as habit.
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