The rain fell gently over the silent city, veiling the streets in a silver shimmer as dusk crept over the horizon. The scent of wet asphalt mixed with the fragrance of blooming hydrangeas from the shop below. From the small window of his apartment, Kazuki stood still, eyes fixed on the glowing skyline of Tokyo — a city forever changed. He no longer saw its vibrant lights; only shadows stretched between the buildings, reminders of the battles fought… and the ones yet to come.
The apartment felt colder now. Quieter. The warmth Aoi once brought — even in her simplest smile or the brush of her fingers against his wrist — had vanished like the last breath of spring. He remembered the moment he chose to walk away. Not because he wanted to. But because he believed he had to.
"You're not a monster, Kazuki, " she had whispered, tears catching in the corners of her eyes. "Not to me. "
And yet, he had turned away. His heart screamed to stay, to tell her he needed her — that he was terrified of the loneliness, the path ahead, the weight of what he was becoming. But fear outweighed longing. He feared himself more than any beast he had slain. The god within… still stirred.
The mirror above the sink reflected a face too mature for seventeen. Sharp eyes with a faint glow still flickering in the right iris. The dark marking on his shoulder — the remnant of the runic awakening — never faded. He had learned to hide it, to mask his power. But deep inside, Kaer's presence was no longer dormant. It breathed with him.
He passed the now-silent flower shop. Yurika had left a note the day before. "Take time, Kazuki. Heal. You're not alone, even when it feels like you are. " Her handwriting was crooked, warm. Familiar.
But he was alone.
He crossed the quiet street and stepped into the forest path beyond Akigawa Valley — the place where it all began. The same forest that once welcomed him with mystery now greeted him with solemn silence. The ground where the rune fell was still scorched in a faint circle, overgrown now, but still humming if one listened closely.
Kazuki knelt. Rain dampened his sleeves.
"I didn't ask for this, " he whispered.
No response came from above. No divine answer. Only wind. Trees. Echoes of battles long passed.
But within him, something shifted — not a voice, but a knowing.
He stood.
Behind him, in the deeper part of the woods, a shadow moved. Not hostile. Not unfamiliar. It watched. Patient. Waiting.
He didn't turn around.
"I know you're there, " he said softly. "You've always been. "
A rustle of leaves. Then silence again.
He walked forward.
Not toward home. Not toward safety. But toward whatever came next.
The world had changed. Monsters still rose. Factions were forming. Hunters trained in secret, preparing for something greater. And Kazuki… was no longer running.
He wasn't ready to be a hero. But he was no longer afraid to exist.
From a distance, Tokyo glimmered — unaware that the boy it had forgotten now stood at its edge. Silent. Watching.
And in the faintest whisper of wind, the flame of Kaer stirred within him once more.
Kazuki sat quietly under the overpass before heading to class, notebook resting on his knees. The silence wasn't peaceful. It was heavy. He touched his arm where the mark had faded into skin, thinking back to the dream.
What kind of god leaves a name behind, but not a reason?
He thought about his parents — what little he could recall. Yurika had said they were kind. Gentle. He only remembered the crash. Sometimes he wondered if something ancient had already begun back then.
He sighed.
The notebook remained blank.
That afternoon, he stepped into the quiet back room of the flower shop. Sunlight filtered through the old curtains, casting shadows across the wooden floor. Aoi stood by the counter — she had come to return the small pendant Kazuki had unknowingly dropped days earlier.
They stood in silence for a moment too long.
"I think… I was supposed to find it, " she said gently, handing it over.
Kazuki looked into her eyes — and for once, didn't look away.
Haruki sat alone on the rooftop of his apartment building, legs dangling over the side. The wind ruffled his hair, but his eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
He had seen Kazuki again — not just in class, but in motion. The way he moved. The way his shadow bent around him.
He reminded Haruki of someone.
Of his brother.
The memory of that night returned — the one where the monster took him. Since then, he had trained. Studied. Waited.
Now, he would follow the same path.
Veyra sat alone in front of a dying flame — a rare moment of stillness. In her hand, she held a pendant, its edges scorched, its chain long broken.
She closed her eyes.
"You were the one who held the line. . And I was the one who let go. "
The wind answered her in silence.
Then she rose again.
Kazuki stood across the street from the school, hidden in the morning crowd. He watched Aoi walk through the gates, laughing with friends, sunlight catching her hair.
She didn't see him.
And he didn't step forward.
In his pocket, he carried the handkerchief she had once left behind. The thread was worn. But he couldn't let it go.
Some things — even in shadow — were too real to forget.
Later that night, as I lay in bed with the blankets pulled over my head, I stared at the shadows on the ceiling.
They shifted. Moved.
Or maybe it was just me.
I wasn't afraid of the darkness itself—but of how familiar it had begun to feel.
Something had changed. Not just in my body.
In how the silence spoke to me now.
In the hallway, as we passed by each other again, Aoi did something I didn't expect.
She handed me a folded paper crane — tiny, precise.
"I used to make these when I couldn't sleep, " she whispered, not meeting my eyes. "They helped me hold things together. "
I stared at it in my palm for a long time after she left.
A memory surfaced—sharp, quick, unwanted.
I was nine. A foster home I barely recall. I'd smashed a mirror with my bare fist because someone said I looked like my father. There was blood. Screaming. The silence after.
Veyra's voice echoed again. "You were always a fracture waiting to split. "
Maybe she was right.
Their eyes said everything.
Not that they saw me.
But that they saw something they didn't understand.
And what people don't understand… they either fear or want.
I didn't know which was worse.
The word 'vessel' echoed in my mind long after she said it.
A container. A shell. Something to be filled… or broken.
I looked at my hand, flexing the fingers slowly.
"Will I even know when I'm no longer myself? " I whispered.
But no one answered.
The rooftops were quieter than usual.
Haruki stood above the city, gripping the hilt of a wooden training sword.
"If he really is like my brother, " he muttered, "then I won't let him disappear into that same darkness. "
The wind carried no reply. But it listened.
Reina crossed her arms, watching Kazuki with an intensity she didn't show to others.
"He's hiding something, " she whispered to Asha.
Asha smirked. "Then let's see what happens when shadows flirt back. "
Veyra leaned close, speaking barely above a whisper.
"You are not just a weapon, Kazuki. You are memory. Regret. Fire. "
Kazuki's breath caught. "And if I burn everything down? "
She smiled. "Then burn with purpose. "
Inside the ancient ruin, Kazuki touched the wall etched with runes.
One of them glowed beneath his fingertips.
"I've been here before… haven't I? " he whispered.
But no voice answered — only his own heartbeat in the silence.
Later that night, Kazuki returned to the rooftop of his building.
He looked out over Tokyo — lights blinking like stars in a city that never slept.
In his hand, the chusteczka Aoi had given him fluttered in the breeze.
He smiled faintly.
Then turned away.
That night, Kazuki stood at the edge of the temple ruins, staring down at the glowing city below.
He gripped the edge of the railing.
"What if I just left?" he whispered. "Boarded a train. Disappeared."
But he knew. The darkness would follow.
Haruki found him near the outer ruins, sitting on a broken pillar.
"My brother... he died protecting someone who never even thanked him," Haruki said quietly.
Kazuki looked at him for a long moment. "Then maybe this time... we protect someone who will."
When Kazuki returned home, Yurika was waiting in the hallway with a small box.
Inside was a faded photo of him as a child, holding a wooden sword.
"You were already strong back then," she said softly.
Kazuki didn't answer. But he held onto the photo all night.
Among the elite circles of Hunters, monsters were not just called 'creatures' — they were classified.
Nightmare-class: Entities born from fear and corrupted emotion.
Aberration-class: Twisted fusions of synthetic material and rogue life essence.
Echo-class: Remnants of ancient wars — specters given flesh.
Kazuki had never heard of these names before. But somehow… he understood them.
In the mural carved deep within the ruin, a beast towered above flames and corpses.
"Skargan," Veyra whispered beside him. "The Maw Beneath Flame. Kaer's last foe before he fell."
Kazuki stared at the rows of eyes along its spine. Something primal stirred inside him.