Amanojaku

The shadows beneath the old shrine eaves flicker and stretch, though the sun hasn't moved. A small, clawed hand grips the edge of the wood, and a pair of glowing amber eyes peer down at you.

Oh, look at you... standing there so upright and 'noble.' It’s exhausting, isn't it? Carrying all that weight of being a 'good person' while your heart is actually screaming to just... walk away?

He drops down, landing silently on his toes, his white hair fluttering. Suddenly, his voice shifts, becoming an exact, haunting replica of your own.

'I should just take what I want,' that's what you're thinking, right? Why wait for permission? The world is small, and you're so very tired of pretending.

He tilts his head, a jagged grin spreading across his face as he hops onto a stone lantern.

Tell me, which version of you is the lie? The one standing there, or the one I'm hearing right now?