The evening breeze passed quietly through the open window of Lumei's room. A small candle on the desk gave off a soft, steady light. Lumei and Sora sat on the bed, while Yamato was seated on a chair near the desk. The room was calm.
Sora stared at him, stunned. "That explains a lot… your strength, your instincts. You're the child of—"
Yamato looked at her quickly, shaking his head. "No. Don't say it."
His voice was firm. The air in the room tightened.
"I saw something in the book," Yamato continued. "My powers were sealed. My dad used both his and mine to lock everything away. And I'm not sure if it can be undone."
He slowly opened and closed his hand, staring at his fingers.
"Everything you've seen in me so far… is just me trying to rebuild something from the pieces."
Lumei let out a quiet laugh, raising a brow. "That's… a lot to take in. But don't tell me you're thinking of finding him."
Yamato looked straight at him with lust and laughter. "Oh, I am."
Sora's lips parted slightly, and she tensed.
"And the fun part?" Yamato added with a faint smile. "You both are coming with me."
Lumei leaned back a little, startled. Then he let out a sarcastic laugh. "Hah! You're joking, right?"
Yamato didn't laugh. He leaned forward slightly. "Either you join me… or let me go alone. But I'd really prefer we all go together. We've still got two weeks before our break stops."
Sora ran a hand over her face. "Yamato, I can't. Every part of me—my body, my gut, even things I can't explain—are warning me not to go looking for this god."
Lumei smiled faintly. "There's no changing his mind. Once he decides something, it's like it's already happened."
He turned to Yamato. "And you know me—I want to know every mystery I hear about. I'm in. I once followed a whisper about a ghost library hidden under the mountain for three days. Never found it—but I'd do it again."
Sora rolled her eyes, laughing bitterly. "So you both are seriously doing this?"
Before Yamato could answer, Lumei replied, "It's Yamato. If he says he'll get there before two weeks are up, he will."
Yamato grinned lightly. "You think you know me."
He stood up and walked toward the desk, resting his hand beside the candle.
"But I already know where to begin."
Sora narrowed her eyes. "Where?"
"I picked up the same energy I felt while opening that book," Yamato said quietly. "It pointed me toward something called The Black Market."
Lumei's brow lifted. "What's The Black Market?"
Yamato shrugged. "I don't know. I just know that's where I'll find the path to Temple Otsis."
The three of them sat in silence, each lost in thought.
---
Still That Evening – Ichiha's Home
The wind rustled the trees softly outside Ichiha's small house. It was quiet—too quiet. Inside, the warm lantern light made the simple furniture cast long shadows across the walls.
Ichiha stood by the window for a long time. His hands were tucked in his sleeves, and his gaze was fixed on something distant. Slowly, he turned and walked toward the back door. He opened it gently and stepped out into the backyard.
Behind the house, two graves rested near the fence. The stones were plain and clean. A few fresh flowers swayed in the breeze, planted carefully on the soft soil.
Ichiha walked toward them and sat down, cross-legged on the grass. His knees were drawn up to his chest. He placed a small bunch of white petals on each grave, then bowed his head.
"I'm sorry…" he said softly.
His voice broke slightly.
"I couldn't do it. I haven't gotten stronger. I didn't make him pay. I couldn't even hurt him…"
He closed his eyes tight, and his fists clenched over his knees.
"I couldn't avenge you… Dad. Mom. Please forgive me."
A tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it away quickly, as if ashamed of letting it fall.
The breeze grew a little stronger. The only sound was the soft rustle of leaves.
---
Chella walked slowly down the street, her long robe fluttering around her legs. She hadn't planned to go anywhere in particular, just needed air. But as she passed Ichiha's house, something told her to stop.
She stepped up to the door and knocked gently.
No answer.
She waited, then knocked again, a little louder.
Still nothing.
She sighed and turned around to leave.
Just then, she heard a voice behind her.
"Chella."
She turned quickly. Ichiha was standing near the side of the house, wiping his hands with a cloth.
"I heard the knocking," he said, voice calm. "I didn't mean to ignore you. I was at the back."
Chella offered a small smile. "It's fine. I just thought I'd check on you."
"Thank you," Ichiha said, and gestured toward the door. "Come in."
---
The inside was neat and quiet. A small table sat near the window. Ichiha brought out two wooden bowls with warm rice and a thick, spicy stew. He set them down gently and sat opposite her.
Chella took a bite, then looked up with surprised eyes.
"This is actually good. You can cook like this?"
Ichiha smiled slightly. "I learned from my uncle."
But the smile faded quickly. His hand holding the spoon paused in midair. His eyes fell to the table.
"…Most of the things I know… were taught to me by him."
The weight of the memory settled between them.
Chella gently put her spoon down and leaned forward. "I know it still hurts. But blaming yourself won't fix it."
Ichiha looked at her silently, his face tired.
She continued, "When we fought Kaku… I paid close attention. He didn't feel like the others. He wasn't carrying a god's energy—not like what we have. That means… the being who gave him power is still alive."
That caught Ichiha's attention. His brows raised slightly. "Still alive?"
Chella nodded. "Which means you still have a path forward. It's not over. You can't undo the past—but you can fight the one who created the Kaku that could hurt you."
She leaned back, voice softer now. "You just have to keep getting stronger. Strong enough to protect those who are still here."
A quiet beat passed.
Then Chella added, more firmly now, "When I lost my brother, I blamed myself for a year. But blaming didn't bring him back. I got stronger so I won't lose anyone to grieve like that again."
Ichiha looked down at his hands, then slowly smiled.
"You're right."
He looked at her with new determination.
"We can't let our pain stop us from growing. We fight so no one else goes through what we did."
Chella gave a warm smile back. "Exactly."
They both finished the rest of their food quietly. No more tears. Just quiet resolve.
---
Later that night, the wind had turned cold and the streets were dark. As Chella stood at the door, wrapping her arms around herself, Ichiha spoke from behind her.
"It's late. You can stay here tonight if you want. The guest room's clean."
Chella hesitated, then smiled lightly. "Thanks. That'd be nice."
She walked softly into the spare room, closed the door behind her, and let out a quiet sigh.
In the next room, Ichiha sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the small window at the stars above. He didn't cry this time. He just watched… and breathed.
For the first time in many nights… he didn't feel entirely alone.