We're diving into the past now—exploring the origins of Kairos, before he even knew the name Yua. As the rain continues to pour down, memories of his childhood rise up like the rainwater flooding the river...
The outskirts of the Ishikawa region. A small village surrounded by rice paddles and a dense, misty forest.
This is where Kairos grew up: surrounded by nature, far from the city's chaos, raised by elders whose age-old traditions and hunter's principles are as much a part of the landscape as the mountains themselves.
Kairos stands at the edge of a rice paddy, his young eyes fixed on his reflection.
The water is perfectly still, but he can see every detail of his face reflected back in every drop. There's a serious look in his eyes for someone so young, like he's carrying some hidden weight even he doesn't understand.
"Kairos."
An old voice, as familiar to him as the sound of rain.
Kairos turns to see Old Ishimaru standing there, leaning on his walking staff, his face creased with lines of wisdom. He's been like a grandfather to Kairos since he was a child.
"Still staring at your reflection, are you?" Old Ishimaru chuckles. "There's more to the world than what's on the surface."
Kairos shrugs, turning back to the water. "I just... don't get it."
Old Ishimaru's eyebrow raises. "Get what?"
"Why we do it." Kairos gestures to the rice paddles stretched out like a silver lake around them, the mist from the forest drifting across them like smoke. "All of this. Why is it so important?"
Old Ishimaru is silent a moment, watching the mist drift. When he finally speaks, there's a depth to his voice Kairos hasn't heard before. "This is more than tradition," he tells Kairos. "It's survival. Our ancestors developed these methods because they work. They've been passed down through generations because they're effective."
Kairos frowns, a flicker of frustration passing over his expression. "But why not just use machines? It would be faster. More efficient."
Old Ishimaru grunts disapprovingly at that. "Efficiency is not everything," he chides. "Our way isn't just about productivity; it's about balance. Balance with nature and between people." He taps the side of his head. "And more importantly, between mind and body. There's wisdom in working with your hands that no machine will ever understand."
Later that night.
Kairos is lying on the edge of the porch of his family's house, looking up at the star-strewn sky. He can't sleep; his mind keeps going back to their conversation earlier. He was being a fool, he knows that. Yet he can't get the image out of his head: a world where machines do all the work and people never have to lift a finger. It sounds so... easy.
(Suddenly—the wind shifts.)
A cold gust snakes through the village, extinguishing lanterns one by one. The stars vanish behind a creeping violet haze. Silence falls... too heavy, too wrong.
Kairos sits up sharply—just as the first scream tears through the night.
"Wha—?" His breath hitches as he turns toward the forest's edge—where shadows are moving against the treeline. Not animals. Not humans either. Something worse… something hungry.
Kairos' heart pounds in his chest as he stumbles to his feet, the wooden floorboards creaking under him.
"Hey! What's—?"
Before he can finish, the village erupts into chaos. Houses burst into unnatural violet flames. People run screaming—but their cries are cut short by a shadowy figure with glowing eyes and fanged teeth.
Engetsuju. Demonic beasts of legend... attacking his home.
And standing at the center of it all—a towering kitsune wreathed in violet fire, its nine tails lashing like whips as it watches with cruel amusement. Mizaru.
Kairos' eyes are locked on the scene unfolding before him—a nightmare come to life.
His friends and neighbors are fighting desperately, but their weapons do no damage against the monsters. It's like they're fighting smoke. Kairos' body acts before he consciously realizes it; he bolts toward the closest house. His mother is inside—
He throws the door open… and stops in horror.
"Mom?!"
But his mother doesn't look at him. She doesn't react to him at all. She's just standing there... staring vacantly ahead. Her face is pale, her eyes like glass. It's like she doesn't even see him.
"Mom..." Kairos calls again, reaching out. He grabs her by the shoulders. She doesn't react.
"Mom, what's wrong? You're scaring me..."
No response.
Kairos shakes her desperately. He can feel her heart beating, her breath against his skin—but her eyes stay blank, her face completely expressionless. She's alive... but it's like part of her has vanished, leaving only a shell behind.
"Mom!" Kairos' voice cracks, panic seeping into his voice. He shakes her a little harder, terrified. "Talk to me! Say something!"
No answer.
Kairos is starting to hyperventilate. He's never felt terror like this before—to see someone he loves so completely unresponsive. He presses his ear to his mother's chest, desperate for a sign of life. There. A faint thud... thump. Her heart is still beating, but slow... far too slow.
Kairos' mind goes blank for a second as the reality sinks in. His mother is gone. The woman who loved and raised him, the one person he should have always been able to lean on... gone.
The world blurs around him as tears stream down his face, mixing with blood and rain. He wants to scream, to punch something, to do anything...
No...
The word echoes, distant and thin, like it's coming from far away. Kairos is on his knees, fingers clawing into the soaked earth. His breath comes in ragged gasps, the world spinning around him.
This can't be happening. He tries to stand, but his legs won't listen. He's shaking too hard. The tears won't stop.
"Mom..."
The word is barely audible, a strangled whisper against the storm. Kairos looks up, eyes locked on the place where his mother used to be. Every memory of her flashes through his mind— her laugh, her smile, the warmth of her hand... and now she's gone.
a loud roar shakes the very ground beneath him, snapping Kairos back into the present nightmare.
He turns toward the sound—and there stands Mizaru, towering over the ruined village, her violet energy swirling like a storm made flesh. Her nine tails lash through burning homes as she surveys her destruction with cruel amusement.
Kairos' grief hardens in an instant. His fists clench so tight his nails draw blood from his palms. His breathing steadies—not out of calm, but from sheer rage.
"You..." He barely recognizes his own voice—low and raw and shaking with hatred he never knew he could feel. "I'll kill you."
Kairos charges—no plan, no strategy—just blind fury fueling his steps.
He doesn't care if he dies. He doesn't care about anything anymore except making her suffer. His hands grab for anything sharp—a broken blade, a splintered fence post—but before he can even get close…
"Pathetic." Mizaru flicks her wrist.
A wave of violet energy hurls Kairos back, slamming him into the burning wreckage of a house with enough force to crack ribs. He gasps, pain shooting through his body as smoke fills his lungs. The world dims at the edges… and in that moment, Kairos realizes something crushing:
I'm powerless.
"Kairos!" His sister's voice cuts through the chaos—sharp, desperate.
He turns just in time to see his little sister and father sprinting toward him, weapons raised despite the hopeless odds. They're both bleeding, clothes torn—but their eyes are locked on Mizaru with unbreakable defiance.
"Don't come closer!" Kairos tries to scream, but his voice is too weak from smoke and pain.
They don't listen.
His father swings a rusted sickle at Mizaru with all his strength—only for her tail to lash out like a whip and slice clean through his chest. Blood sprays across Kairos' vision as his father collapses without a sound… while beside him, his sister freezes in horror before charging again, screaming wordlessly—
(She doesn't even make it three steps.) A flick of Mizaru's claw sends her crumpling to the ground like a broken doll... body limp, unseeing eyes staring right past Kairos into nothingness.
Kairos stares in disbelief as his family—those closest to him in all the world—vanish in seconds.
The shock makes his mind numb. He can't feel anything—no pain, no anger, nothing at all except a cold, empty dread.
But then… Kairos looks up and meets Mizaru's gaze. The Engetsuju is watching him casually, like he's no more significant than a bug. Something inside of him snaps.
Kairos blinks, staring in disbelief at this stranger who appeared out of nowhere. The figure stands unwavering, eyes fixed on Mizaru as if he's completely unafraid.
Then Kairos' eyes drop to the figure's hands—and he sees something almost impossible to believe:
A Kizugami blade.
He'd only heard stories about these weapons before—legendary blades that were supposedly used by generations of hunters. They're said to be powered by life energy itself and infused with a spirit...
Could it be...?
Kairos' breath hitches—because standing between him and Mizaru is a man he's only ever heard of in legends.
The stranger wears a dark-blue kimono layered with armored plates, its sleeves adorned with silver stitching that resembles crashing waves. A hunter's sash—black and gold, marked with the insignia of a lieutenant—is tied firmly around his waist. His stance is effortless, like he was born to fight monsters like this.
And in his hands... his Kizugami. A blade unlike any other Kairos has seen before—its steel shimmering faintly blue, as if infused with moonlight itself.
This man doesn't even glance back at Kairos as he raises the weapon toward Mizaru, voice steady and unshaken:
"I won't let you take another life tonight."
(Gentoki has arrived.)
Kairos can only stare, too numb to process what's even happening.
He's heard stories about Lieutenant Gentoki—who hasn't heard of him? The fearless hunter who's saved hundreds of villages and killed dozens of monstrous beasts... Now he's here, standing between Kairos and the very thing that destroyed everything he had. A mix of awe and desperation fills Kairos' voice as calls out to him.
"You're... really Gentoki?"
Gentoki spares Kairos a brief glance over his shoulder, eyes like steel.
"Yeah." There's a quiet strength in his voice, a conviction that seems unshakeable. "But you can save the fan-boying till after we survive this."
Kairos bristles at that. "I'm not-!"
He stops himself just in time. After all, he is talking to the legendary Gentoki. Even under normal circumstances, he'd probably be too starstruck to talk properly...
(Gentoki smirks—sharp and effortless, like the man doesn't even know what fear is.)
"Then prove it." His grip tightens on his Kizugami as violet fire lights up the battlefield behind him. "Live long enough to tell me your name when this is over."
🌀 End Of Chapter Twenty One