The shield shattered like glass.
Sakura stumbled forward as the last fragments of light dissolved into the night air. Her lungs burned, her legs quivered, and her thoughts spun with the same chaos as the Beast's roar echoing in her ears.
Renji grabbed her arm before she collapsed entirely. "Sakura! Hey—hey, are you okay? That thing you just pulled—holy crap, that was—"
"Shut up," she gasped, clutching her chest. "I can't… think… Hah... I'm so tired."
The Beast prowled at the edge of the clearing, its amber eyes narrowed. But it didn't strike again. It sniffed the air, low growl rumbling, before retreating into the misty jungle.
Renji blinked in disbelief. "Wait. Did it just… leave? Just like that?"
Sakura sagged against him, trembling. "No. It's not afraid of us. It feels like it is testing us."
Renji frowned. "Testing us? Lady, that thing looked like it wanted to rip our spines out and floss with them."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "No. It held back on purpose."
And that terrified her more than if it had gone for the kill. It can only mean one thing. Its intelligence is almost on par with humans.
They stumbled back into the undergrowth, desperate to put distance between themselves and the clearing. The jungle was alive with chirps, rustles, and alien cries, every sound amplified by their frayed nerves.
After what felt like hours, they found shelter beneath the ruins of a toppled stone arch. Vines draped down like curtains, half concealing the interior.
Renji collapsed onto the stone floor with a groan. "Congratulations, Sakura. We survived our first boss fight."
"Shut up. This isn't a game." She sat stiffly, pressing her back against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her braid was fraying; her lab coat torn and streaked with dirt.
Renji tilted his head, trying to catch her gaze. "Then what do you call that shiny bubble trick? Because last I checked, scientists can't just—poof!—summon glowing force fields." He threw his hands up for emphasis. "Unless you've been hiding a superhero résumé from me."
Her silence stretched. Finally, she whispered, "I don't know what that was."
"Sure looked like you knew."
"I imagined it," she snapped, voice breaking. "I imagined a shield because otherwise we were going to die!"
Renji's mouth opened, then closed again. "So… you dreamed it into existence?"
Sakura buried her face in her hands. Her heart wouldn't stop racing. It was impossible. It shouldn't have happened. And yet—her palms still tingled with the memory of the barrier's glow.
"Maybe this world… maybe it's messing with us," Renji muttered. He glanced at his hands. They shook slightly, not just from fear, but from something else. "Because I swear… I went back. Just for a moment. Like I lived the same two seconds twice."
Sakura lifted her head. Her eyes widened. "Wait. You too?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. And before you ask, no, I didn't imagine it. I don't have your overachiever brain."
"Idiot." But the word lacked bite.
Renji leaned back against the stone. "So, we've got mystery powers, a monster playing peek-a-boo with us, and no clue where—or when—we are. Honestly? This is either the worst vacation ever or the best isekai setup of all time."
Sakura shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
"…Okay, okay, worst vacation. Definitely worst."
Sleep came fitfully. When dawn broke, Sakura rose first, stiff and sore. She wandered outside to a nearby stream to splash water on her face.
That was when she saw it.
In the reflection, a thin streak of silver threaded through her black hair. Subtle. Almost unnoticeable. But unmistakably there.
Her stomach dropped.
She yanked the strand forward, fingers trembling. The silver glinted like metal in the morning light.
"…No."
"Whoa." Renji's voice broke her panic. He leaned over her shoulder, peering at the reflection. "Sakura, when did you get the anime protagonist hair upgrade? Did the island give you free highlights?"
She shoved him back, braid whipping. "Shut up."
But her pulse was hammering.
"And your eyes—" Renji squinted. "Did they always sparkle like that?"
She turned away sharply. "It's nothing."
Renji opened his mouth to tease her more, but stopped. Because when he blinked, he saw it in his own reflection.
For just a second, his left eye gleamed faint turquoise.
"…Oh." He rubbed his face. Blinked again. Normal. "Well, that's… not terrifying at all."
Sakura's voice was tight. "We don't tell anyone."
"Who are we even supposed to tell? The locals?"
"…Just promise me."
Renji studied her expression—grim, guarded, almost fragile beneath the steel. He sighed. "Fine. But if I end up with rainbow eyes and laser beams, I'm blaming you."
Later that morning, they explored deeper into the ruins. The toppled arch led to cracked staircases and crumbled hallways, moss and roots devouring everything. Strange glyphs covered the walls, spirals and runes glowing faintly when sunlight hit at certain angles.
Sakura traced a symbol with her fingers. The glyph pulsed faintly beneath her touch.
Renji's jaw dropped. "Uh… you broke it."
"I didn't break it, idiot. It's reacting." Her mind raced. Energy resonance? Neural recognition? No, this was older. Deeper.
Renji pressed his palm to a different glyph. It flared faint blue for a second before dimming.
Both of them froze.
"…Okay," he whispered. "That was kinda cool. Also horrifying. But mostly cool."
Sakura exhaled slowly. "These ruins… why do I get the feeling that they know us?"
"Or they're judging us. Which is worse."
They ventured further, torches Sakura had improvised from vines and resin lighting their path. The air grew cooler, heavy with an almost reverent hush.
At the end of a corridor, they found a vast chamber. Pillars arched high, cracked but still standing. In the center, a stone dais.
Renji stepped closer, but Sakura's arm shot out, stopping him.
"Wait."
Something moved.
From the shadows behind the dais, a figure shifted. Tall. Cloaked. Watching.
Renji's voice dropped to a whisper. "Please tell me that's just another statue."
The figure's head tilted, and twin glimmers of light—eyes, cold and unblinking—met theirs.
Sakura's breath caught.
They weren't alone.