The night pressed heavy over the village outskirts, the jungle's chorus muted by the distant thrum of government machinery. Yoshiki crouched on a moss-covered stone, arms resting against his knees, eyes locked on the faint glow of the camp's floodlights in the distance. He hadn't moved for nearly an hour.
Beside him, Hikaru shifted, restless but quiet. The two had been waiting since Yuzuriha slipped away, vanishing into the darkness with nothing but a whispered, "Trust me."
Hikaru finally spoke, his voice low. "It's been too long."
Yoshiki didn't answer. His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp. The silence between them stretched until Hikaru sighed, leaning back against a tree.
"You know," Hikaru continued, "most people would call her reckless for walking straight into their camp. Soldiers everywhere. Lights, machines… those people aren't villagers with pitchforks. They're trained."
Yoshiki's voice came out like iron scraping against stone. "She's not reckless. She's prepared."
"Prepared doesn't make her untouchable," Hikaru countered. "I get it—you trust her. So do I. But trust doesn't stop bullets."
Yoshiki turned at that, eyes burning. "Then what do you want me to do? Sit here and wait like we have all our lives? Let them treat us like animals in a pen?"
His voice carried a sharp edge, but Hikaru didn't flinch. He let the words hang, then spoke softer. "No. I'm saying… if something happens to her, we can't afford to break. She wouldn't want us to."
The weight of it lingered. Yoshiki clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. The night wind carried the faint metallic scent of the camp, mingled with smoke and oil. He hated it. Every second Yuzuriha was gone gnawed at him, a reminder of how powerless they still were.
Finally, Hikaru's head lifted. His gaze cut toward the shadows shifting between the trees. A soft rustle, careful footsteps—different from the heavy march of soldiers.
Both boys tensed. Yoshiki rose in an instant, every muscle coiled, ready for a fight.
And then, emerging from the undergrowth, Yuzuriha stepped into the moonlight—her expression calm, though her breathing betrayed the haste of her return.
Yoshiki exhaled sharply. "You're late."
Yuzuriha met his gaze, steady and deliberate. "And you're impatient." She dropped a bundle of papers onto the stone between them, the ink glinting faintly in the starlight. "But I found what we needed."
The bundle of papers landed with a soft thud against the stone. The three of them leaned in, the night air thick with anticipation.
Hikaru frowned. "You actually… took from their camp?"
Yuzuriha gave a small shrug, though the faint tremor in her fingers betrayed how close she had come to being caught. "They were careless with their filing. Or overconfident. Either way, these reports…" She unfolded the top sheet, flattening it against the stone. "They're about us."
Yoshiki leaned closer. His eyes scanned the page, though most of the language was in clipped government terms he didn't understand. But one section, marked in bold, was clear:
SUBJECT: TAKAHIRO, Yoshiki — Anomalous Neural Resonance Detected.
Yoshiki's throat tightened. "What… is this supposed to mean?"
Yuzuriha's voice stayed even, though her tone carried the weight of something she hadn't yet said aloud. "It means they've been watching us. Measuring us. Not just since they arrived—long before. These machines they're using… they respond to something in our bodies. Energy, resonating with the island itself."
Hikaru folded his arms, unsettled. "So we're lab rats to them. Nothing more."
Yoshiki's fists curled. "Subjects," he muttered, the word like poison. "That's what they called us."
Yuzuriha slid another sheet forward. This one showed diagrams—nervous systems traced with glowing lines, jagged like lightning bolts. Yoshiki recognized his own shape, his own body mapped like a specimen. Next to it were Hikaru's and Yuzuriha's, though fainter, less defined.
"They've catalogued all of us," Yuzuriha explained quietly. "Not just the three of us. The entire village. But…" She tapped the ink with a slender finger. "Some of the records are incomplete. As if they don't fully understand what they're seeing. Which means—"
"—they're afraid," Yoshiki finished, his eyes blazing.
Hikaru shook his head. "Afraid, maybe. But Shiga doesn't strike me as the type to retreat. If anything, this makes us bigger targets."
Yuzuriha didn't deny it. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I know. That's why I didn't bring everything. Just enough for us to understand… and enough to put them on edge."
Yoshiki looked at her sharply. "On edge? What do you mean?"
For the first time that night, Yuzuriha's calm cracked, if only slightly. Her gaze flicked back toward the glowing camp in the distance. "When I left… I wasn't alone. Someone else knows a page is missing. Which means…" She drew a slow breath. "…they'll start hunting."
The words fell like stones in the silence. Even Hikaru's usual composure faltered.
Yoshiki stood, fists trembling at his sides. The moonlight caught in his eyes, hard as steel. "Then let them come. If they want a hunt, they'll find out we're not prey."
Yuzuriha shook her head. "Don't be reckless. Shiga isn't just sending soldiers. He'll be watching, waiting for us to make the wrong move."
Hikaru rose as well, his expression firm, voice steady. "Then we can't move blindly. We wait. We prepare. The next step will decide everything."
The three stood in the half-light, the jungle whispering around them. Between the floodlights of the government camp and the shadows of their hidden stone, a fragile line of defiance had been drawn.
For the first time, Yoshiki felt it—an invisible weight pressing against him, something alive beneath his skin. His body trembled, not with fear, but with a heat he couldn't name.
He clenched his fists tighter. Whatever this power is… it's mine. And I'll use it to protect them.