Seri's voice was calm but firm. "What actually happened?"
He exhaled slowly, regret shadowing his tone. "Your parents' deaths were never an accident. They were warriors, working under Iwao on a secret mission. Takeda betrayed them."
Seri's fingers twitched as her breath caught. "But Takeda was always kind to me. He raised me. Why would he try to destroy everything?"
"That," Kobayashi said, his eyes narrowing, "is the truth behind the mask he wears. He and Iwao were once like brothers. But when the truth surfaced… everything shattered."
He walked to the window, staring out into the night. "What Takeda wants is Kang Junho. Inside him lies the key to covering up everything…the memories, the information, and the truth behind the explosion."
Her eyes narrowed. "So Iwao asked me to bring Junho not just to uncover my parents' killers?"
"That's not the whole reason," he replied, stepping closer. "The true reason is to find those who betrayed and destroyed Project Yūen — the Ghostflame Initiative. Junho holds the key. With his ability to read memories, he can uncover everything. Iwao intends to expose every traitor."
Seri's gaze hardened, but her voice carried the weight of the question. "Why am I the key? Why do you need me for this?"
"Because the ones involved in the tragedy will never stop until the truth is buried forever," he said evenly. "And because you are the only one who can stir his heart. Someone drawn by emotion becomes unreadable to him. The memories he can't reach… are inside you."
Silence hung in the room. Taehyun looked between them, quietly absorbing the weight of what he had just learned, his mind turning over the layers behind Seri's immunity. He finally turned toward her, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. "So that means you're both the shield… and the key."
Seri didn't answer. Her eyes flickered between Taehyun and Kobayashi, sharp but guarded.
"Exactly," Kobayashi said, his tone steady. "Protecting Kang Junho is the same as protecting the truth."
Seri stayed silent, her gaze steady. Once, she protected Junho to keep him safe…now, she had to protect him for the truth. "Let me find Iwao. We don't have much time. Junho's already been taken."
Kobayashi exhaled slowly, his eyes lowering for a moment before lifting again with something darker in their depths. "There's something more I need to tell you."
A beat of silence passed between them, heavy and expectant.
Kobayashi's voice was soft. "Iwao is… not in good condition." Seri's eyes widened slightly, but she remained composed. "Let me bring him to you… or rather, bring you home to him," Kobayashi continued, gesturing ahead
He led her down a dim-lit passage, the walls lined with ancient scrolls and faded photos fragments of the old world and the old mission. Taehyun walked beside Seri, quiet now, his eyes scanning everything like a silent protector. They stopped at a door where the posted guard said nothing, only unlocked it and bowed.
Seri braced herself. Her past, her pain, and her purpose might all be behind that door. The room inside was dim, bathed in soft amber light from a floor lantern. In the center stood a large traditional low bed with dark wood carvings. Atop it, Iwao lay propped against cushions, an IV trailing from his arm to a discreet machine. A faint beep marked his pulse ,steady but fragile. There was no oxygen tank, no dramatic monitors. Just dignity, even in weakness.
Seri and Taehyun stepped in and froze. The sight knocked the air from Seri's lungs. Her heels echoed softly as she approached the bed, one hand trembling before she steadied it and clasped his. She didn't cry, but her eyes shimmered, barely holding in the storm. "Iwao…" she whispered.
"Sōke," Taehyun said in a low, respectful tone. Iwao's eyes fluttered open. His gaze landed on Seri and his lips lifted faintly in relief and pride, like a father seeing his daughter come home. "What happened… to you?" she asked softly.
"His body is recovering …it's nothing serious."" Kobayashi said from behind, his voice somber. Seri clenched her jaw, eyes wet but her voice firm. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Kobayashi bowed his head in silence. Iwao squeezed her hand, faint but deliberate, his mouth moving to speak.
"Don't worry. I just need a slightly longer nap," he said with a weak chuckle. Her voice tightened. "How am I supposed to keep going… seeing you like this?"
Iwao lifted his eyes to hers, worn but filled with fire. "Stick to the plan. My condition is no excuse to stray from your path. Find the reason. Track down the witness, Aira."
Seri nodded faintly, swallowing hard, steel rising behind her gaze. She was raised by this man and she would not fail him.
Iwao looked at Taehyun with a faint smile. "Ken… you've grown into a fine man. I always knew you'd be the one to protect her." Seri turned to Taehyun, eyes narrowing in quiet surprise. She had never known. Not until now, that it had always been him.
Taehyun lowered his gaze for a moment, a shy smile flickering across his face, a rare softness. "Go. Finish what we started. Kobayashi will guide you from here," Iwao said, his faint voice carrying weight. Seri straightened, nodding in silent determination. The mission wasn't just orders now ,it was personal.
"I will find the truth… at any cost. Just take care of yourself until then. I'll come back to you," she said, her eyes locked with his. Iwao smiled faintly, the weight of her words settling in his heart. Taehyun watched quietly, knowing she meant every word.
At the Iwao estate in Kyoto, Seri's old wooden floor creaked softly beneath her boots as she walked through the room with slow, steady steps, the air still and heavy with memory. The paper lantern above cast a warm, muted glow, flickering against the dark lacquered walls. This room hadn't changed since she was last here, yet everything felt different. She paused for a moment, her fingers brushing the edge of the low dresser where dust had begun to gather.
Her eyes scanned the walls, then she moved. With a firm twist of her wrist, she slid open a hidden panel behind a tall standing mirror. The wooden compartment inside clicked open like muscle memory, revealing it all. Rows of hand-crafted weapons glinted under the dim light. Blades, tools, smoke capsules, wire traps…each one a part of her past. She stepped in. The shock ring on her finger hummed faintly, a sleek silver band infused with high-voltage discharge, enough to knock a man out cold with one touch. She checked the charge. Still full.
Her hand reached for her most familiar weapon…a black nunchaku, smooth from countless hours of training. Etched delicately in silver: 高嶺 アイラ (Takamine Aira), the name bestowed upon her by the master of Cloudspire. She gripped it tightly. No more running.
From a chest below, she pulled out her old gear ,a fitted black combat suit tailored for silence and agility, reinforced leather lining, boots with blades hidden in the soles, pants lined with slim, deadly tools, and a dark hood ready to shroud her once she was in the shadows. She breathed out once, then suited up. Tonight, she didn't carry fear. Only purpose.
The moonlight filtered through the slatted wood of the corridor, casting long shadows along the tatami floor. Taehyun stood waiting, dressed in full shinobi assassin gear…a matte-black ensemble tailored to his lean frame. The fabric clung like a second skin, woven with armor-thread for stealth and defense. Twin daggers were crossed behind his back in a sleek harness.
His belt carried smoke pellets, grappling line, and a scroll pouch. A silent nod to his years of deadly training. His black gloves gripped the hilt of one short blade, and his face was half-masked, but his eyes …calm and calculating. Shone with quiet resolve. He looked like a shadow carved into human form, ridiculously cold yet effortlessly handsome.
Footsteps approached. Seri appeared from the darkness, fully suited, her hood down, shock ring glinting, nunchaku tucked at her side. Every step was a reminder of who she was and what she was about to do. She stopped and glanced at Taehyun for a beat. "You look…" she said quietly, almost surprised.
"Dangerous? Or attractive?" Taehyun grinned under the mask, pausing with one brow raised. "…You can say both."
"I almost forgot once… you were a warrior too," Seri said coolly, adjusting her nunchaku strap.
"Back then, when I was twelve. But now…" He spun one of his compact blades in a single, smooth motion. "I look more… fascinating." He leaned in slightly. "Be careful… or you'll fall for me when I fight."
Seri let out a short laugh, dry but real. "Only if you survive long enough to impress me."
Taehyun smirked, giving a small nod. "Survive? Please. I'll make it look easy."
They moved toward the door, steps in sync, a shared fire in their eyes. Old bonds. New war.
Then, just as they reached the threshold, the hilt of one of Taehyun's daggers slipped loose from its harness and clattered to the floor. The sound echoed in the quiet corridor.
Seri stopped, one brow lifting, her gaze sliding to the fallen blade.
Taehyun crouched to retrieve it, muttering under his breath, "It's been a while, alright?" He gave a small, almost sheepish shrug as he slid it back into place.
Seri's lips curved in a faint smirk. "Don't worry," she murmured, brushing past him. "I'll pretend I didn't see that."
He exhaled a soft laugh, following her into the night, adjusting the harness like nothing had happened.
And without another word, they vanished into the darkness, toward Takeda.