DAWN — KAMIKAWA FOREST CLEARING
Ash swirls through the wind like snowfall.
A still-burning cigarette lies on the ground near the steps of the abandoned safehouse, curling smoke into the pale light.
The forest is silent now.
Blood has dried on the wood. The air still smells of splinters and scorched earth.
From above, we see Ryouma, sitting on the steps, a silver thermal blanket around his shoulders. His lip is swollen. His eye is dark. But his stare is fixed—deep and unmoving.
Beside him, Souta, legs pulled in, covered in the same thermal wrap. Her breath is steady but cold. Eyes distant.
They say nothing.
INT. KAMIKAWA POLICE STATION — HOLDING ROOM – MORNING
A nurse treats the cuts. A soft radio hums a pop song through static. Something American.
An officer places tea in front of Ryouma and Souta, then walks away without saying a word.
Souta lifts the cup.
Her hands shake too violently.
Ryouma gently steadies them.
Still nothing is said.
EXT. KAMIKAWA CREMATORIUM – LATER
The ceremony is simple.
Katarina's body lies beneath a white silk sheet, her face visible only to Ryouma and Souta. Officers stand at a distance.
They light the flame.
Ryouma doesn't cry. Not yet.
But as the door closes and the fire roars—
Souta collapses into him.
No sound.
Just breathless grief.
Her hand grips his like she's drowning.
INT. KAMIKAWA INN – TEMPORARY ROOM – THAT NIGHT
The two lie in silence on opposite sides of the room.
Neither sleeps.
Ryouma stares at the ceiling.
"She bought us time," he whispers. "She knew."
Souta turns her head toward him.
"Do you think Kairi feels anything?" she asks.
Ryouma doesn't answer.
He doesn't need to.
EXT. SEOUL — SLUM DISTRICT – NIGHT
Rain falls. Heavy. Unrelenting.
Kairi stumbles into a narrow alley behind a fish market. Her arm is still bleeding. Her right leg drags with a limp.
She collapses beneath a metal awning. Her body shivers. But her eyes still burn.
A boy walks past, doesn't see her.
She breathes shallow.
And then—
Footsteps.
Soft. Deliberate.
Someone stands in front of her.
We see only the back of a woman in a long coat, hair tucked into a hood, wearing a white porcelain mask with no expression. Her boots are spotless despite the mud.
Kairi's eyes narrow.
"Who… the fuck… are you?"
The masked woman says nothing.
Then slowly turns—
But only enough for Kairi to see a flash of something beneath the coat. A faint symbol. Unfamiliar.
Before Kairi can rise, the figure is already gone, melted into shadow.
Silence.
EXT. BACK IN KAMIKAWA – THE NEXT DAY
A small letter arrives.
No return address.
It's addressed to:
"Ryouma & Souta Saigeru."
Inside:
A black-and-white photo of them.
Taken two nights ago.
From behind.
Outside the safehouse.
Before the rescue.
A single sentence is typed beneath it:
"This isn't the end. It's the remembering that kills you."
Ryouma's hands tighten.
INT. TRAIN STATION – EVENING
Souta watches the sun dip behind the mountain. A train's horn echoes.
"I think she's planning something bigger," she says.
Ryouma doesn't speak.
Then:
"I don't think she's alone anymore."
He pulls out the photo again.
On the corner, barely visible, is a gloved finger in the frame.
Thin.
Feminine.
Not Kairi's.
EXT. SEOUL CITY LIMITS – SAME NIGHT
Kairi stands at the edge of a rooftop overlooking Seoul's industrial district. Her arm is stitched crudely. Her body patched but her eyes glowing darker.
She lights a cigarette.
The mask rests on the railing beside her.
She doesn't know who the masked woman is.
But for the first time in years—
She's afraid.