A single droplet landed on a dark, almond-toned surface.
It struck the top of his forehead, then began its descent, slow, deliberate, tracing the line of his face. It slid past his golden eyes, which stared ahead into nothing. Empty. Hollow. His midnight pupils were blown wide, absorbing shadows like they were the only thing left.
The droplet mixed with the blood already trailing down his cheek, then slipped past his upper lip, falling into the shallow pool forming in the crater of his chest.
His ribcage had caved in, the bones bent inward like crushed scaffolding, creating a basin where blood quietly gathered.
Aiger lay in the abandoned yard, half-dead, his body sprawled and broken beneath the weight of silence.
A figure stood above him small and watchful.
The only light in the suffocating darkness of the Underborn was the faint, unnatural glow of her spring-green hair, casting eerie highlights over her pale face and the ruin below her.
She reached out her hand and once she made contact and his once injured boded was mending itself together. His body once twisted and shattered by a brutal intent to kill was now slowly reforming, reshaped by the will to bring him back from the brink of death. The dried blood faded, washed away by a soft green hue that glowed faintly across his skin. Color returned to his cheeks. And then… to his eyes.
Aiger's fingers twitched, coated in grime and dirt. When his vision finally settled, he looked up to see the figure that stood over him.
His savior.
Her spring-green hair was cropped short, barely brushing the collar of a cloak the color of midnight. Her irises matched the same vibrant green, while her pupils were stark white like a flash of lightning in the dark.
For a moment, Aiger could only stare. He didn't think his thoughts were still trying to find footing. Just silence. Just her.
"Ya know, you could at least say thank you for saving your life," she said, voice light as a feather, like she was teasing.
But if Aiger's mind had been a still lake before, now it was a raging ocean. Chaos surged through him. Every nerve fired, every hair stood on end as the realization struck:
For a moment… he had been dead or close to it in his mind.
"Hello?" the girl asked, her voice softer now, a little concerned.
"Get away from me!" Aiger shouted, panic sharp in his voice.
He scrambled backward, dirt flying as he dragged himself into a corner like a caged animal, wounded, defensive. Even though he looked perfectly fine, healthier than before even. he hissed like a stray cat cornered in an alley.
"Leave me alone!" he snapped.
"I didn't bring you back from the dead," she retorted, folding her arms, "but I did stop you from dying. So maybe stop acting like I was the one who tried to kill you. That's very rude, you know."
She pouted, puffing her cheeks in frustration. "You could at least show some gratitude."
But Aiger wasn't listening. He was still checking himself over, running his hands along his ribs, his arms, his chest. Making sure everything was where it was supposed to be.
"Hey! Are you even listening to me?" she yelled.
He wasn't.
That killed her irritation fast. Her expression shifted from fiery to confused as he suddenly took off running.
"Wait! What the hell are you doing?! Did you hear me? You should treat your savior with more respect!" she shouted, chasing after him.
She caught up fast her green hair bouncing as she moved. "I saved your life! You could at least pretend to care!"
"Get lost," Aiger muttered, voice flat and casual, like none of it mattered. Like she didn't matter.
To Lily, she'd just performed a miracle. She'd plucked a boy from death's edge.
And yet… he looked at her like she was nothing.
"You…you bastard! How ungrateful can you be? You can't even say thank you?"
But the boy wasn't listening.
He scanned the corners of the bustling area of underground the city that never sleeps., eyes sharp, paranoid. Watching. Waiting. He moved like prey that had escaped the jaws of death only to remain certain it would return. Every glance, every twitch of his body screamed tension like he was being hunted even now.
To him, Lily wasn't a savior just a buzzing, persistent annoyance. Background noise. Nobody did anything for free here, she wanted something out of him that he knew he was certain. He focused on something larger, something distant, some invisible destination that pulled him forward.
"If you don't stop right now, I swear I'll tell the Templars you're still ali—"
She never finished the sentence.
In one fluid motion, Aiger had her pinned to the wall, one hand locking her wrists while the other clutched a jagged piece of glass shattered from a bottle he'd broken in the same heartbeat.
The makeshift blade kissed her throat.
Just enough pressure to draw a single line of blood.
Lily froze, her breath caught in her chest. For the first time, she looked like the child she was. The boldness, the fire, it vanished in an instant.
Silence. Thick. Hanging.
Their eyes locked.
Aiger's honey-colored gaze was ice cold, distant, exhausted beyond his years.
Lily's were still bright, still green, but now wide with fear.
"You threaten me again," Aiger whispered, voice low and strained, "and I'll gut you like a fish."
His breath was shallow. Controlled, but barely. Like a wire pulled tight.
And he meant every word.
Aiger let her go.
Lily stumbled back, clutching her neck as she caught her breath. A soft green glow bloomed beneath her fingertips, sealing the shallow wound in seconds. Her gaze snapped to Aiger, who was already digging through a pile of discarded junk, his focus elsewhere.
For a moment, she was at a loss for words.
Then, with a sharp tug, Aiger pulled out a rather sizable pouch. He unraveled the string at the top, and when the fabric loosened, a thick wad of credits spilled into view—gold, silver, and bronze notes stacked neatly inside.
Lily blinked.
Without hesitation, Aiger peeled off a handful and tossed them her way. She caught them on instinct, fingers tightening around the paper before she even processed what was happening.
"So you did steal that money from the Templars," she muttered.
"Take it," Aiger said flatly, already walking away. "For saving my life. And for leaving me alone."
Lily stared at the credits in her hand. Then, slowly, a smile crept onto her lips.
"I don't want your money," she said.
Aiger stopped mid-step. His shoulders tensed, irritation flashing across his face before turning into something sharper. He turned on his heel, eyes blazing with frustration.
"Then what do you want?" he snapped. "You've been following me around like a lost puppy! I've been nice because you saved my life, but you're seriously starting to piss me off."
Lily met his glare head-on.
"I want you."
The words hit like a stone to the chest.
Aiger froze, completely speechless.
(x)
"Mom, Dad we're home!" Miyu called out as she slipped off her shoes at the door.
From the kitchen, Shoko and Tatsumi appeared, their expressions briefly flickering with unease before softening into practiced smiles.
"Where's Aiko?" Shoko asked, already scanning for the middle child.
"She had tennis practice," Takumi answered casually, slipping past them and heading for the stairs.
Before he could disappear, Tatsumi gently called out, "Hey, Miyu come here for a second, kiddo."
The nine-year-old turned on her heel, eyes wide with curiosity. "Yes, Daddy?"
Tatsumi knelt down to her level, his tone gentle and inviting. "I just called Sakura's mom to see if she'd like to join us for a movie tonight. If you hop in the shower now, we'll have time to pick her up on the way. Sound good?"
Miyu's face lit up, her excitement bubbling over as she threw her arms around her father's neck.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said in a rapid stream before dashing upstairs, already planning her outfit and humming to herself. Independent and eager, Miyu had insisted on showers over baths since she turned nine her proud mark of growing up.
Takumi watched the scene absently, barely registering the interaction before continuing on. But Shoko stopped him with a quiet firmness in her voice.
"Not so fast we need to talk."
Takumi paused, slowly turning back. The seriousness in both his parents' faces was impossible to ignore. He let out a mental sigh, unable to hide the flicker of annoyance on his face.
Another talk, he thought, dryly. How many more do we need?
Still, he followed them into the kitchen, where they both took seats at the table. He remained standing, arms folded loosely across his chest.
"Would you like to sit?" Tatsumi offered, gesturing to a chair.
"I'm good right here," Takumi replied, keeping a distancent not just physically.
"Okay…" Tatsumi nodded, a slight hesitation in his voice. "We've been doing some thinking."
The words were cautious, deliberate.
"And we understand your desire to join Border," he continued. The name alone made Takumi look up, alert.
Tatsumi glanced to Shoko, and she picked up where he left off.
"We're willing to meet you halfway," she said. "We'll allow you to apply for Border next year if you agree to attend therapy."
Takumi blinked, caught off guard. "What's therapy?"
"It's a place where you talk to a trained professional someone who can help you make sense of everything you've been through," Shoko explained, her voice gentle but firm. "A psychologist who can guide you through what you're feeling, especially when those feelings are too heavy to carry on your own."
Takumi didn't fully grasp what therapy would look like, but one thing was clear: it was a path to Border. That alone made him nod.
"Okay… but what's the catch?" he asked, his tone guarded.
Shoko's eyes softened, but her words were earnest.
"The catch is that you try," she said. "We all try to be a family again, Takumi. We may not fully understand what you've been through, but we're trying. Truly. And it feels like no matter how hard we reach for you, there's still this… wall. This infinite void. The closer we get the further you push us away. For every one step forward it feels like 3 step back."
She paused, swallowing her emotion.
"We're not asking you to tell us everything before you're ready. But when you shut us out when you skip dinner, or avoid us it hurts. That's our time together. That's our way of staying connected."
Tatsumi leaned forward, supporting her. "All we're asking is that you take this seriously. Give therapy a chance. Let us know how we can support you. Let us in."
The words struck a quiet nerve. A mix of jealousy and guilt welled up in Takumi. Jealousy for the version of himself who once felt loved, who laughed with cake on his face at age seven. And guilt for how far he had drifted not just from them, but from himself.
"I… I don't know why you changed your mind. Honestly, I've been kind of shitty," he said quietly, vulnerability creeping into his voice.
His parents exchanged a glance, and both smiled tender, sincere.
"Why else, Takumi?" Tatsumi said gently.
Shoko added in harmony, "Because we love you."
AN:
Hey guys! Thank you so much for your comments and continued support. After the next chapter, the first arc will officially come to an end, and we'll be stepping into the second arc. This has definitely been a challenge, it's my first time writing and completing an entire arc, and I've learned a lot along the way. Originally, the family wasn't supposed to be the main focus, but as I kept writing, the characters naturally developed and the story just wouldn't have made sense without giving them more depth and purpose. The next arc will include a time skip and kick off the C-Rank Saga. I hope you'll keep reading and supporting the journey ahead. Thank you again!