Kirashi closed both of his eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.
~~~ 12 years ago ~~~
It was a hot summer day. Young Kirashi was playing baseball with his dad in their original home in Okinawa, the sound of cicadas buzzing in the humid air.
"1... 2... Hah!"
Mr. Kiraghie, the pitcher, threw the ball gently toward Kirashi.
Kirashi swung with all his might—but missed, the bat whistling through the empty air.
"You said it wouldn't be too fast!"
Young Kirashi pouted.
"That wasn't!!"
Mr. Kiraghie protested with a grin.
"Again!"
"Okay! Hahaha!"
Mr. Kiraghie pitched again, and this time, Kirashi's timing was perfect. The crack of the bat echoed through the yard as the ball soared.
"Hoh! Nice hit, son!"
"That's way too easy!"
Young Kirashi cheered, puffing out his chest.
"Hehe..."
Mr. Kiraghie muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
Then, by the door, a frail woman with striking green eyes called out to them, her voice thin but warm.
"Oi! Let's eat!"
The young Kirashi turned, his face lighting up.
"Mama!"
It was Mrs. Kiraghie.
Kirashi ran to hug his mom, who had just finished cooking lunch.
Mr. Kiraghie approached them, his smile softening into a look of concern as he reached his wife's side. He placed a hand on her shoulder, checking on her as she leaned slightly against the doorway.
"How are you feeling, hon?"
"I'm good, no worries."
She smiled, a comforting and assuring expression that didn't quite hide the exhaustion in her eyes.
In the present, as Kirashi lied on the dark woods of Hedo Cape with a monster ahead of him, he reminisced about the moments he once shared with his real parents.
"Mom was sick. I never knew what her disease was. I remember seeing her in the hospital a few days before that..."
He thought to himself, the memory flickering like a dying candle.
The family sat down to eat together, the table filled with the scent of home-cooked food. Suddenly, Mrs. Kiraghie began coughing violently.
She quickly stood up, stumbling toward the sink. Mr. Kiraghie rushed after her, his face pale with panic as he tried to support her.
Meanwhile, young Kirashi remained at the table, trembling as he looked down at his small hands. His lips were clenched tight, his forehead beaded with sweat.
"Is Mama gonna be okay?"
~~~August 27, 2157~~~
It was another hot summer day, the air thick and stagnant. Kirashi's father had gone out for work, leaving young Kirashi with the responsibility of taking care of his mother.
"Mama! Papa just left,"
He announced, stepping into the dim bedroom.
"Okay, thank you for letting me know, darling,"
Mrs. Kiraghie replied. She was lying in bed, her face pale against the pillows. Kirashi smiled at her, and she managed a weak smile back, but the peace was short-lived.
Suddenly, she began coughing violently, her small frame racking with the effort.
Kirashi didn't panic; he had done this many times before. He quickly grabbed a glass of tap water and brought it to her side.
She took a slow sip, the coughing fit subsiding as she handed the glass back.
"Thank you so much,"
She whispered. She patted his head gently and took a deep, shaky breath.
"Son—"
Before she could finish her sentence, the sharp chime of the doorbell rang through the house.
She turned her head toward the bedroom door, then looked back at Kirashi once more, a flicker of something unreadable in her green eyes.
"Go answer it."
"Okay!"
Kirashi nodded, bolting out of the room. He rushed through the hallway and slowly pulled open the heavy front door.
Standing on the porch was a delivery boy, dressed in a standard uniform.
"Good morning! Delivery!"
Kirashi blinked, returning the greeting in a quiet, shy voice.
"Good morning..."
The delivery boy scanned the foyer behind the boy, his eyes searching the interior for any sign of adults.
"Are your parents home?"
"My mom is..."
The delivery boy's expression softened into a smile as he knelt down to Kirashi's eye level.
"Can I see her? I need her signature for an item your father ordered."
"Okay!"
Kirashi agreed, turning back into the house to call for his mother.
As soon as the boy's back was turned, the delivery boy's phone vibrated. He snapped it up, answering in a hushed, urgent tone.
"Have you found them?"
The voice on the other end demanded.
"Stop calling! You're going to jeopardize the mission!"
The delivery boy hissed.
"I'm going to see—the child just called his mom."
"Affirmative. Don't rush it."
"I know, I know!"
He ended the call just as Mrs. Kiraghie appeared at the door, leaning slightly against the frame for support.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kiraghie! We've got something for Mr. Kiraghie,"
The delivery boy said, his professional mask sliding back into place.
"Please sign here."
"What is it?"
She asked, her voice cautious.
"Let me see... Ah! It's a satellite dish."
"I see."
She signed the digital pad, and the delivery boy began hauling a large, heavy box into the entryway.
Young Kirashi hovered nearby, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"What is that, Mama?"
"Better not touch it, son. It's your dad's things,"
She warned gently.
"Okay!"
Kirashi chirped, unaware that the "delivery" had nothing to do with television.
~~~At Night~~~
Mr. Kiraghie just got home from work.
"I'm home!"
Miss Kiraghie and Kirashi greeted the father together as he returned home.
"Welcome home, Papa!"
Mrs. Kiraghie walked toward Mr. Kiraghie as he removed his coat as Kirashi sat on the living room table.
"Get changed, darling. Let's eat!"
"Okay... What a tiring day at work."
Mr. Kiraghie replied back.
As Mr. Kiraghie removed his coat, Mrs. Kiraghie mentioned the delivery that had just arrived.
"By the way, dear, a delivery came while you were out."
"Delivery? For me? But I didn't—Hmm..."
Mr. Kiraghie quickly opened the box and checked inside. His expression instantly hardened. He stood up sharply.
"Son, dear, pack up. We have to go!"
Confused by the sudden urgency, Mrs. Kiraghie asked.
"Huh?.. What? Why so sudden?"
"U.W.D.S. got us!"
He screamed in panic.
Mrs. Kiraghie immediately understood the gravity of the situation.
"Understood. Sorry."
"Don't blame yourself. It's okay, dear. Let's go... Son! Get packed!"
As soon as they finished gathering their essentials, they headed for the front door. Mr. Kiraghie opened it—and men were waiting outside.
Without warning, one of the men fired a bullet directly into Mr. Kiraghie's head. He collapsed instantly.
"That day... my life played in slow motion. Mama ran toward me. I was frozen as my father dropped to the ground. Mama bent down and whispered,
'Run away, son! Run away, Kirashi!' "
The young Kirashi bolted for the back door, tears streaming down his face. Gunshots echoed behind him as he fled.
"Mama... Papa..."
"Since that day, I've sworn to myself: I'll never run away again.. If only I'd known about my wind..."
~~~August 29, 2157~~~
Kirashi ran north as far as he could. For two days, he traveled without eating, covering nearly 70 kilometers.
On the second day, exhausted and dehydrated, he collapsed at the foot of a mountain. His clothes were torn, his body worn down by hunger and fatigue.
Eventually, a tall man with grey hair found him. It was Windgott.
Kirashi woke up inside a hot, old hut.
"Where am I?.. It's so hot..."
His chest tightened as the memories rushed back—he needed to get away. He slipped quietly out of the hut and spotted Windgott outside, smoking.
Kirashi tried to sneak away.
"I know you're trying to leave. Go ahead."
Hushed the old man without looking at Kirashi.
Without hesitation, Kirashi ran down the mountain.
"That was unexpected."
Windgotts eyes were wide open, blinking twice in surprice.
Suddenly, a sharp cry.
"AH!!!"
"And he fell."
Windgott sighed.
Windgott walked over to the hole Kirashi had fallen into.
He looked down to see Kirashi lying on the ground, his eyes furrowed and suspicious as he asked
"Why did you help me?"
"Honestly... kids these days are so cold. What happened to you, huh?"
"Nanya."
"Nanya?"
Windgott asked.
With a cheeky smile, Kirashi replied.
"Nanya Biznez!"
Windgott gritted his teeth, slightly annoyed.
"This kid..."
Windgott grabbed Kirashi by the head and lifted him up. Kirashi tried to punch, but his fists couldn't reach. Tears welled in his eyes.
"Do you not have manners?! Where are your parents?!"
Kirashi stopped struggling. Windgott lets him go.
"They got killed."
He replied as tears slowly fell from his eyes, fist clenched tight.
"Oh... I'm sorry, kid."
He kneeled down as gently patted Kirashi's head.
"Are you hungry?"
Young Kirashi looked to the side, his right palm resting on his left forearm.
"Yes..."
Windgott offered Kirashi food. The boy devoured the fish eagerly.
"Jeez, how many days has it been since you ate? Oh well... enjoy."
He muttered with his cigarette stuck between his fingers.
Young Kirashi sat on the dirt floor of the hut, picking the last bits of meat from a bone before tossing it aside.
He had eaten three whole fish in one sitting, his small frame shaking slightly from the sudden influx of nutrients after days of starvation.
Windgott leaned against the stone wall, watching the boy with an unreadable expression.
"So, what happened to you?"
Young Kirashi went silent, his gaze fixed on his greasy palms.
"Oh... okay. We'll talk about it another time,"
Windgott said, pulling a pipe from his belt and blowing a thick cloud of smoke toward the thatched ceiling.
Surprisingly, Kirashi's voice cracked through the quiet.
"U.W.D.S..."
Windgott paused, the pipe halfway to his lips.
"U.W.D.S.? That damned corporation."
"They killed my parents.. I ran for two days..."
Kirashi muttered, his voice devoid of the usual childish energy. It was cold, hollowed out by trauma.
Windgott reached out and patted the boy's head, his large, calloused hand resting there for a moment.
"Mom told me to run away,"
Kirashi said, his knuckles whitening as he balled his hands into fists.
"That's the last time that's ever gonna happen."
"Are you sure?"
Windgott asked, blowing another ring of smoke.
"You might die, though."
"I don't care anymore!"
Kirashi snapped, finally looking up. His green eyes were bloodshot, burning with a desperate, raw defiance.
"Interesting,"
Windgott mused, his eyes narrowing as he studied the boy's resolve.
"Where are you going to go then?"
Kirashi's shoulders slumped slightly, his bravado wavering.
"I... I don't know."
"Hm..."
Windgott hummed, the sound deep in his chest.
"Can I stay here for tonight? Just for tonight,"
Young Kirashi asked, his voice shrinking back to that of a lost six-year-old.
Windgott chuckled, a dry, raspy sound.
"You sure? You won't be able to sleep properly though."
"I don't mind."
Windgott tapped the ash from his pipe and looked the boy in the eye, finally asking the question he'd been holding back.
"What's your name?"
"Kirashi.. Kirashi Kiraghie."
"Not bad, not bad,"
Windgott grunted, a faint, rare smile touching his lips.
"I'll call you Kira."
~~~At Night~~~
That night, under the flickering light of the old hut, Kirashi lay awake. His mind was a storm of grief and fear, memories of his parents' last moments flashing through his thoughts. The ache in his chest felt unbearable.
Windgott sat nearby, quietly tending to the fire. After a long pause, he spoke softly.
"You know, Kira, sometimes the heaviest wounds aren't the ones you can see."
Kirashi turned his head toward him, eyes still rimmed with tears.
"I don't know how to stop feeling scared... or alone."
Windgott nodded knowingly.
"Losing family... it breaks something inside. But you're not alone.. You've got me."
Kirashi's lip trembled.
"But I couldn't save them. I ran when I should've stayed."
Windgott's gaze was gentle but firm.
"Running doesn't make you weak, Kira. Sometimes survival means running, so you can fight another day. And fight you will—stronger than ever."
Kirashi wiped his tears.
"Will it ever stop hurting?"
"It will. It takes time. You have to let yourself feel, but also learn to stand again. One day at a time."
The boy looked at Windgott, searching for hope.
"You're stronger than you know. These experiences are the strength you have to keep moving, even when the world wants to break you."
Kirashi took a shaky breath.
"Thank you, Windgott... for not giving up on me."
Windgott smiled, a rare softness in his eyes.
"I didn't save you just to lose you now."
That night, for the first time since the tragedy, Kirashi felt a small flicker of peace.
A few moments later, Windgott stood outside the hut, his back to the door as he stared into the oppressive darkness of the trees, seemingly waiting for something.
"What are you doing?"
Young Kirashi asked, peeking out from the straw entryway.
"Waiting."
"Waiting for what? There's only the two of us here."
Windgott didn't turn around.
"You'll see, kid."
Suddenly, a violent rustling tore through the undergrowth. Low growls vibrated through the air, and from the shadows, black glowing creatures emerged—the Seele.
"Earth type! Good,"
Windgott noted, his voice devoid of fear.
With a swift, casual motion of his arm, he summoned a fierce gust of wind. It didn't just blow; it cut. The air shrieked as it tore through the forest floor, quickly taking down the Seele before they could even lunge.
"W-What were those?!"
Kirashi stammered, his eyes wide.
"Those black glowing things? Seeles,"
Windgott replied, dusting off his sleeves.
"No, I meant the wind!"
Windgott chuckled, finally looking back at the boy.
"The wind? Wait... Don't you know about elemental powers?"
"Elemental powers?"
Windgott chuckled again, muttering under his breath,
"You must've come from a stable family." He looked back at the treeline, his gaze hardening.
"Teach me about them,"
Kirashi hushed, his small voice filled with a new, burning determination.
"W-Well, do you even know your elemental type?"
Windgott asked.
More Seele poured out of the forest, their glowing eyes fixed on the hut. Windgott didn't even look as he flicked his wrist, sending a pressurized blade of air that swiftly dispatched them again.
"Elemental type?" "Yeah—Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, and so on,"
Windgott explained, sounding like he was reciting a grocery list.
"I... I'm not sure."
"Okay, put your palm out."
Kirashi raised his hand, opening his palm toward the sky.
"Now... what do I do?"
"Just stare at it."
"What?"
"Just kidding. Try putting some force into it,"
Windgott said, a smirk playing on his lips.
Kirashi squeezed his hand shut, his face reddening with the effort.
"Not like that! Open it again... Ah! Do you know what you do when you're pooping? Do that with your hand."
"What?!"
Kirashi shouted, his face going from red to purple with embarrassment.
Windgott sighed, running a hand through his gray hair.
"Ah, nevermind. It'll come with enough battling Seeles."
Before Kirashi could respond, the adrenaline that had kept him running for two days finally evaporated. His legs gave out beneath him like wet paper, and he passed out before he even hit the dirt.
~~~To be Continued~~~