Kazuya walked until the voices of the village faded, replaced by the soft crunch of leaves beneath his feet and the distant cries of unseen birds.
He wandered with no direction, his steps carrying him deeper into the forest's hush, but even its stillness couldn't silence the storm inside him.
Why did it have to be like this? We were The Verdict. We won the war.
So why does it feel like I'm burning alive in someone else's grief?
The thoughts twisted through Kazuya's mind.
Kazuya fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
Being in Toma's body, seeing his loved ones and feeling the weight of his pain, it was crushing.
He had always fought for The Verdict, believing in order and protection, but now, inhabiting the body of someone who suffered because of that very cause, everything he believed in began to crack.
His fingers dug into the dirt as his shoulders shook.
What was I fighting for?
We both fought for The Verdict, a cause that promised order and protection, so why did I walk away whole while Toma paid with his arm and lost his friends?
The weight of grief pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe, to move even, but he knew he couldn't stay lost in the wilderness forever.
Slowly, he pushed himself up, wiping the tears from his cheeks while the fading light of dusk filtered through the trees.
With hesitant steps, Kazuya began his slow return. Thoughts of Aya stirred deep inside him, and though he was still himself, inhabiting Toma's body awoke an unfamiliar tenderness for her, a quiet love that tugged at his heart drawing him irresistibly back toward the village.
Kazuya's steps slowed as he neared the village, the quiet streets stretched before him, bathed in the soft glow of twilight.
Ahead, he spotted a figure moving slowly between the houses. Aya, for a moment, Kazuya's breath caught in his throat, as if he didn't deserve to break the silence between them.
But after a long pause, the name slipped out.
"Aya…" he called out.
She turned at once, her face lighting up with a gentle smile that made Kazuya's chest tighten.
Without thinking, Kazuya closed the distance and wrapped his single arm around her, the suddenness of the embrace caught Aya off guard.
"What's the matter?" she asked softly, concern threading her voice.
Kazuya's defenses crumbled, tears spilled over as the grief he'd been holding back finally poured out, his shoulders shook beneath the weight of sorrow not his own.
Aya didn't pull away, instead, she smiled and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.
"It's alright." she whispered.
Kazuya looked away. Her voice, her kindness, they cut deeper because they weren't meant for him, but for Toma. Yet the pain he felt was no less real, and somehow, her words softened the ache in his chest.
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in silence, the weight in his chest lightened, if only a little.
Eventually, Aya stepped back.
"I have to help Mai with some things before it gets too late." she said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Kazuya nodded, the name stirring a flicker of recognition from Toma's memories. Mai was a close friend of Aya's, someone Toma had only met a few times.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Aya added with a small smile before turning and walking away.
Kazuya watched her go as the quiet night wrapped around the village.
He made his way back through the winding paths, every familiar corner pulling memories from Toma's life.
At the doorstep of Toma's modest home, Kazuya paused, taking a steadying breath, the weight of the day's emotions pressed heavily on him, but within that heaviness was a fragile sense of peace. He entered quietly, the worn floorboards creaking softly beneath his careful steps.
Kazuya sat down on the edge of the bed, exhaustion washing over him. The events of the day swirled in his mind, keeping his thoughts restless, yet beneath it all, a quiet resolve began to take shape. Tomorrow morning, when the world was fresh and clearer, he would start searching for answers, he had to understand why he was trapped in Toma's body.
His eyelids grew heavy, the weight of fatigue finally closing in, and with a final breath, he let himself slip into the darkness of sleep, the unknown waiting for him at dawn.