The silence that follows is deafening.
Akasaki's gaze never leaves Rumi. She's still smiling, but now there's a new edge to her gaze—something almost predatory.
Ryo can't breathe. Can't think. The room feels like it's closing in.
But it's Rumi's voice that finally cuts through the tension.
"Please don't… take me away."
Ryo's fists clench at his sides. His confusion is palpable, voice cracking under the weight of the unspoken truth he doesn't know.
"What... are you talking about?"
Akasaki tilts her head—as if genuinely stunned. Her smirk fades into something colder, more analytical. She studies Ryo like a failed experiment before exhaling sharply through her nose (amused? Disgusted?).
"You really don't sense it, do you?" She gestures lazily toward Rumi with two fingers—"That sleeping storm inside her?"
(And then—like shifting tectonic plates—everything clicks into place.)
Flashes flicker through Ryo's mind—pieces he never connected.
Rumi cries in her sleep, murmuring about "voices in the walls."
She knows things she shouldn't—predicting storms before clouds even formed.
That one time she woke up screaming about "teeth in the dark."
His stomach drops. (She wasn't just sensitive… she was a conduit for something far worse.)
Akasaki watches him piece it together—her smirk returning, slow and satisfied.
"Now you understand why I can't leave without her."
Ryo takes a step forward. His eyes lock onto Akasaki—demanding.
"What exactly is inside my sister? And why are you so hellbent on getting it?"
Akasaki holds his gaze. A moment passes—a silent challenge. But finally, she relents with a sigh, waving a hand in surrender.
"Very well." she says. "I suppose you deserve to know."
"What resides in your sister is not just some beast… It is one of 15 beings that have existed since the beginning of time. They are known as the Engetsuju."
Ryo feels that name is like a punch. One of FIFTEEN?
Akasaki continues, unbothered by the revelation.
"Each one embodies a primal force. A concept too ancient to name. And the one in your sister…
Akasaki's grin widens—cold, knowing.
"Her's is Shiriyuki". The White Moon Engetsuju. A being that devours shadows and spits out light." She tilts her head slightly, amused by Ryo's shock. "A creature born from the gap between dusk and dawn."
Ryo's pulse pounds in his ears. (His sister... has something like THAT inside her?)
"You're Not Taking Her."
Ryo's voice is steel—final. His grip tightens around his blade, knuckles white with tension. The air itself feels charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.
Akasaki sighs, rolling her shoulders lazily (as if this is just an inconvenience).
"Cute declaration. But you don't even know what you're guarding yet." She taps a finger against her chin mockingly. "Or did you think Mizaru was the only Engetsuju out there?"
(Mizaru—the NineTailed Fox that got Yua captured.) The implication slams into Ryo like a physical blow: There are more. And Akasaki knows exactly what that means for Rumi...
Before he can react—a sudden crash shatters the tension.
Tenjo's carefree voice booms through the room, cutting through the chaos. He leans against the doorway with his usual easy charm, his tone as casual as if they're chatting over tea.
"Well, isn't this a party?"
Akasaki's smirk sharpens—genuine intrigue flashing in those fractured glass eyes.
"Well, well… If it wasn't for the infamous Tenjo Hitsuke." She crosses her arms, amusement dripping from every syllable. "The man who rewrote the Hunting Realm's rules before vanishing like smoke."
Tenjo chuckles, scratching his cheek sheepishly (as if being called out isn't a big deal).
"Guilty as charged~ Though I prefer 'eccentric genius' over 'infamous.' Rolls off the tongue better!"
Tenjo's eyes narrow—all pretense gone. In the blink of an eye, he's not an affable scientist anymore. There's a weight to his gaze as it fixes onto Akasaki.
"Ah… I remember you." He says quietly. "The traitor of the Ametsuchi clan. The one who left a massacre in her wake."
Kyou's eyes flutter open—the blur of awareness slowly sharpens. He groans, a hand going to his head to assess the damage.
Kusuri is by his side immediately, her concern etched on her face.
"Careful," she whispers, one hand gently guiding him as he sits up. "You took quite a hit."
Kyou's vision swims—then snaps into brutal clarity.
The memories flood back in an instant: the blood, the screams, his sister standing over their fallen clan like it was nothing. His hands shake—not from pain, but from fury.
His voice is a whisper—but it carries the weight of a vow.
"Akasaki…"
This isn't over. This will never be over until one of them is dead.
The creak of the door signals more arrivals.
Old Man Kurobe steps in first, his cane clicking against the floor with deliberate calm. Behind him, the teenage siblings—Sora (brother) and Haru (sister)—exchange sharp glances as they size up Akasaki. And finally… Sachi lingers near the doorway, silent but poised like a blade ready to be drawn.
The air shifts—balance tilting back in their favor.
Akasaki sighs dramatically (but her eyes are calculating).
"And now it's a party."
Sachi lands in front of Ryo with a flip so fluid it barely makes a sound. Her posture is all razoredged readiness—her glare fixed on Akasaki like she's already decided how this fight ends.
Ryo blinks (still disoriented from the blow) before his expression twists into annoyance.
"Where the hell have you been? Ghosting me for weeks and now you just pop up like nothing happened?"
Sachi doesn't even glance back at him, her voice flat but firm:
"Training. Alone. Now shut up—we have bigger problems."
(Akasaki watches this exchange with mild amusement… then sighs dramatically.)
"How touching~ But if you think this changes anything—"
Kurobe's cane suddenly slams down—the sound cracking like thunder. His old eyes are anything but frail as they lock onto her.
"Enough theatrics, girl." His voice carries generations of authority. "You lost the moment we walked in."
Kujuro steps forward—his stance solid, unshakable. He doesn't say a word, but his presence alone speaks volumes: This fight isn't Ryo's to bear.
Ryo stiffens (confused, irritated).
"Dad… move." His voice is tight. "I don't need you protecting me—"
Kujuro doesn't flinch. Don't look back at him. His focus remains locked onto Akasaki—because he knows exactly what she is capable of (because he recognizes that killer intent far too well).
But the secret stays buried for now.
Akasaki pauses, the tension in the air tightening. She knows she's outmatched, at least for now. Her jaw sets, and she glares at them one last time, her glare filled with bitter promise.
"Very well then" she concedes. "Be warned, though—I will be back. I will take Rumi, and nothing will stand in my way next time…"
The Line That Burns
Akasaki pauses—just for a breath—and locks eyes with Kyou Ren one final time. Her smirk is gone now, replaced by something colder, heavier.
"You want vengeance?" Her voice is quiet but sharp as shattered glass.
"Then get stronger."
"Strong enough to kill me."
"Or I'll make sure you live just long enough to watch everything you love burn."
And with that—she vanishes into the shadows like smoke on the wind.
(Leaving behind only silence… and a vow that will never fade.)
Kyou jolts to his feet—his body moving on pure instinct—determined to pursue his sister. But then the room comes back into focus. The realization that it's too late for that sinks in. With a frustrated growl, he slams his fist into the wall—fighting the urge to scream.
The silence stretches out until Sachi breaks it with a sigh.
"Tch… that could have gone better."
Kyou jolts to his feet—his body moving on pure instinct—determined to pursue his sister. But then the room comes back into focus. The realization that it's too late for that sinks in. With a frustrated growl, he slams his fist into the wall—fighting the urge to scream.
The silence stretches out until Sachi breaks it with a sigh.
"Tch… that could have gone better."
Ryo's eyes flick over to Rumi. She's been a silent observer through it all—her face mostly unreadable. But there's something in her eyes… something haunted.
"Rumi… you all right?" He asks quietly.
She nods, her voice barely above a whisper when she speaks.
"I… I think so. Just… a lot to take in."
Ryo exhales sharply—clenching his teeth. He never wanted this for her. The Hunting Realm was supposed to be his burden, not hers. And yet… fate had other plans.
His voice is rough with frustration when he finally speaks:
"Damn it…" (Because what else is there to say?)
Kusuri glances between them, her usual sharpness softening just slightly.
"Well… no going back now." She shrugs (as if that helps at all)
Kyou stands, his face a stoic mask. He's made up his mind.
"I'm going home."
The room goes still again. Even Sachi's usual sharpness is muted as she looks at him.
Kujuro, though… His voice is quiet but firm.
"Alone?"
Ryo's voice is sharp—no room for argument.
"Kyou. There's a kill order on hunters. You really think it's safe out there alone?"
Kyou doesn't flinch. His answer is simple, icecold:
"I don't care."
(And that's the problem—he never does.)
Kyou's hands clench at his sides, knuckles white. His voice is low—raw.
"You wouldn't understand."
Ryo doesn't back down. "Try me."
For the first time, Kyou's composure cracks—just for a second. His eyes burn with something beyond anger, beyond grief.
"I'm going to kill her. That's all that matters now."
Ryo's hand reaches out instinctively.
"Kyou… wait a sec—"
But Kyou is already pulling away, his patience gone.
"Don't." His voice is a low growl, a warning.
Ryo stops—the tension hanging in the air like a storm about to break.
"I'm just… worried about you. Is that a damn crime?"
Kyou's gaze locks onto Ryo—no hesitation, no warmth left.
"Then I'll make this simple." His voice is deathly calm. "If you get in my way… I'll kill you too."
The room goes dead silent. (Not a threat—a promise.)
Even Sachi stiffens slightly, her usual sharpness tempered by the weight of those words. "...Harsh."
Kujuro's expression doesn't change, but the air gets heavier.
"Watch your tone, boy."
This time, the authority in Kujuro's voice is undeniable. He's not making a suggestion—he's making a demand.
"You will not threaten my son."
Kyou scoffs, his expression twisted with a mix of anger and resentment.
"A father, hah. I wish mine was still here too."
Kujuro's jaw tightens. He's all too familiar with the bitterness that comes from loss. But he won't give in to anger, won't let it cloud his judgement.
"But wishing won't change anything." His voice is firm but controlled. "And I'm going to protect my son, regardless of your feelings."
Kyou's glare doesn't waver—but after a beat, he exhales sharply through his nose.
"Fine." His voice is rough, like gravel scraping stone. "As long as he stays out of my way… I won't touch him."
It's not an apology. It's barely even an agreement—just a reluctant acknowledgment of terms. But for now… it'll have to be enough.
(And with that, the tension in the room eases—just slightly.)
Ryo's voice is firm—no room for debate.
"I won't let you leave just to get yourself killed, Kyou."
Kyou doesn't look back at him. His tone is colder than steel.
"Then stop me."
A challenge. A dare. (And they both know Ryo can't.)
Ryo exhales sharply—then drops into stance.
No more words. No more hesitation. If Kyou Ren won't listen… then he'll make him stay.
(Even if it means fighting someone who refuses to be saved.)
Kyou glances around—then jerks his chin towards the door.
"If you're going to stop me… do it somewhere else. I don't want to destroy the city."
Ryo hesitates for a moment, but then his jaw sets. He nods once, silently accepting the condition.
(Sometimes, compromise means making the best of a bad situation.)
"Lead the way."
Kusuri glances sideways at Rumi. Rumi's voice is steady, her faith in her brother unwavering.
"He'll win dad."
Kujuro exhales sharply, his expression a mixture of pride and concern.
"For everyone's sake… I hope you're right."
The wind howls across the mountain's summit, tearing at their clothes like an impatient spectator. Below them, the world stretches out—vast and indifferent.
Ryo and Kyou stand opposite each other, silhouetted against the twilight sky. Their gazes lock—no words left to waste.
(Some battles aren't about winning or losing… but about proving something.)
Kyou's gaze drifts for a moment, taking in the landscape.
"I picked this place… because Yua used to bring me here. Before I lost everything."
Ryo doesn't move, doesn't speak. There's a silent understanding passing between them—how this place holds memories, both good and bad. (It's the perfect place to settle things.)
Kyou Ren:
"I don't need friends. I don't need mercy." His fingers tighten around his weapon. "Just vengeance."
Ryo:
"And I won't let you throw your life away for it." His stance firms—no retreat. "Even if I have to break every bone in your body to stop you."
(Two paths—one of destruction, one of defiance.)
Chapter 48: "I Will Win"
(Final Panel – Split Screen)
Kyou Ren:
"I will win." (Flames crackling at his fingertips.)
Ryo:
"I will win." (Sword already drawn, eyes steeled.)