The outskirts of Kurokami were thick with rust and silence. Collapsed beams and weed-choked alleyways sprawled across the remains of an industrial complex that had long since lost its name. A faint fog clung to the air, curling along broken pavement.
Sora walked quietly beside Ketsu, the crunch of their footsteps swallowed by the oppressive stillness.
"This place feels hollow," she said, her voice barely louder than the breeze.
Ketsu didn't look at her. "That's because it is."
Their orders had been simple—check for aura spikes in the abandoned zone and confirm it was safe. No combat anticipated. Just reconnaissance. But both of them moved like they were expecting otherwise.
They moved silently through the ruins of a collapsed corridor. Sunlight filtered in through a shattered roof in faint, dappled columns. Sora's eyes narrowed. She halted, hand rising slightly.
A weak, flickering aura. Just ahead.
Clinging to a cracked pillar like a leech, the Nightmare pulsed erratically. Half-formed, twitching, desperate.
Sora didn't wait.
She pushed forward, a burst of aura kicking from her soles as she closed the distance. The Nightmare writhed, but her palm struck its center, her movement clean and sharp. The creature hissed, unraveling into cursed vapor.
"Clean," came Ketsu's voice behind her.
She turned to find him standing a few paces back. He raised a finger, and a blood-formed needle hovered an inch above it. With a flick, it shot forward into the lingering mist—cleansing it completely.
"You're late," Sora said, brushing dust off her jacket.
Ketsu shrugged. "You had it under control."
They stepped outside the ruined building and found a ledge—an old steel beam long since bent into a seat by time. They sat, the sky gray above them, the air still.
A long moment passed in silence.
Ketsu was quiet at first, his gaze focused somewhere distant.
"You told me about your people," he finally said. "About your bloodline. So… maybe I'll tell you something too."
He leaned forward, elbows on knees. His voice was calm, level—but each word was deliberate.
"I was born with the Blood-Plus. But I'd say it's more Minus for me. It's inherited through my family. Not everyone gets the same like me, but when it shows up, it's treated like a gift from the gods."
He curled one hand slowly. "It lets me control my own blood. I can harden it, shape it, weaponize it. If I absorb enough of someone else's blood, I can control theirs too. But the strongest part of it is regeneration. Hyperspeedregeneration. I can regrow whole limbs—bone, tissue, skin. From nothing."
Sora glanced at him.
"It's… impressive," she said softly.
Ketsu chuckled, but it was a dry sound.
"That's what they thought too. That's why they trained me."
He looked down at his hands.
"They cut off my arms. Fed me. Waited for them to grow back. Then they did it again. And again. Every time I screamed too much, they drugged me, shoved something in my mouth or cut my tongue off"
His voice didn't waver—but something behind it did.
"They called it 'conditioning.' Said I'd be the ultimate weapon. The clan's final blade."
He didn't expect pity. Didn't look for it.
"I told Kouji and Yuusuke before. The surface stuff. But not this."
Sora said nothing at first. Then she reached into her bag, pulled out a wrapped rice ball, and handed it to him wordlessly.
He blinked. Took it.
She stared out over the empty town. "Sounds like they were afraid of you."
A slow breath left his chest. And for the first time in what felt like years, Ketsu smiled. Faint, fleeting—but real.
"Maybe."
The silence between them didn't feel heavy anymore. Just… honest.
Eventually, Sora stood and dusted off her pants. "We should report back."
Ketsu didn't move.
"You go ahead," he said, still staring at the distant horizon.
Sora stopped. "Are you coming?"
"…Not yet. I've got something to finish."
Her expression tensed, but she didn't press him. Instead, she gave a small nod. "Be careful."
She turned and walked off, the mist curling gently around her as she disappeared into the grey light.
Ketsu remained seated, staring at the path ahead. The old road leading north. Toward his clan's estate.
Toward everything he hadn't finished.
And he stood.
The steel beam creaked behind him as he left it behind.