The small dining table creaked softly as Haruto pulled out his chair and dropped into it.
A thin trail of steam still rose from the plate in front of him—simple food, but enough. Aya always made sure of that.
"Eat before it gets cold," she said gently, setting down a cup of tea.
Haruto picked up his chopsticks without a word and took a bite.
He paused. "…It's cold."
A sharp clink echoed across the table.
Reina slowly lowered her teacup, her eye twitching.
"Whose fault do you think that is?" she snapped. "Maybe if someone didn't sleep like a corpse every morning—"
"Reina, it's alright," Aya cut in softly, already reaching for his plate. "Do you want me to reheat it, Haruto?"
He shook his head, taking another bite.
"No… it's fine."
Silence settled over the table for a moment. Only the faint hum of distant ships could be heard beyond the walls.
Aya glanced at him, her expression gentle but searching.
"…Were you up late again?" she asked. "Drawing those Vanguard ships?"
Haruto didn't answer.
His chopsticks moved slowly, mechanically.
Aya hesitated… then smiled faintly and said nothing more.
Reina, however, wasn't as patient.
She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
"I swear, how many times do we have to tell you to stop that?" she said, irritation creeping into her voice. "Staying up all night, scribbling those stupid ships—what's the point?"
Haruto's grip tightened slightly.
"You're just wasting time," she continued. "And for what? It's not like you're ever going to—"
She stopped herself for half a second.
Then said it anyway.
"You don't even have an Astral."
The words landed heavier than anything else in the room.
Haruto froze.
For a moment, the only sound was the faint ticking of the old clock on the wall.
Reina clicked her tongue and reached over, smacking him lightly on the back.
"Seriously, just be realistic for once. Dreams like that? They're not for people like us—especially not—"
Haruto shrugged her hand off.
"Mind your business."
Her brows furrowed. "What did you just—"
"I said," he cut in, standing up abruptly, "mind your business."
The chair scraped harshly against the floor.
"What I do is mine," he added, his voice low. "You don't get to decide that."
He turned away, heading toward the door.
Then he stopped. Just for a second.
"…And stop reminding me," he said quietly, not looking back, "that I don't have one."
The door slid open. And then shut behind him.
Silence filled the room.
Reina stared at the empty doorway, her irritation slowly fading into something quieter.
"…That idiot," she muttered, leaning back in her chair. "When is he going to understand…"
She picked up her tea and took a sip.
Her face twisted immediately.
"…It's cold."
Aya let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she gathered the dishes.
"You worry too much," she said gently. "Haruto will find his own way."
Reina didn't respond. She just stared down at her cup.
A moment later—
Aya's eyes widened.
"…Reina, what time is it?"
Reina glanced lazily at the clock. Then froze.
"…Wait—"
Her chair slammed backward.
"SHIT— I'M LATE!"
She scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking the table over as she grabbed her bag.
"Why didn't you say anything?!" she yelled, rushing toward the door.
Aya laughed softly. "You never listen when I do."
Reina skidded to a stop in front of her, leaned down, and wrapped her arms around her in a quick hug.
"Love you, Mom!"
"I love you too," Aya replied warmly.
And just like that, Reina was gone.
Aya looked at the empty room, then at the untouched tea on the table.
"…She didn't even finish it again," she murmured, picking it up.
Just as she turned—
"Haruto! You're going to be late for school!"
From the hallway came a muffled voice:
"I know!"
A few seconds later, Haruto reappeared, already dressed, bag slung over his shoulder.
He paused by the table, then stepped forward and hugged her.
"Love you, Mom."
Aya blinked in surprise—then smiled, gently patting his head.
"I love you too. Be careful."
He pulled away, gave a small nod—
And headed out the door.
The house fell quiet once more.
Outside… the world was already moving.
And Haruto Mori was about to be swallowed by it again.
The door slid shut behind him with a soft click.
Haruto stepped out into the narrow street, the morning air cool against his face.
The outskirts were already alive.
Voices echoed between the worn-down buildings—neighbors calling out to each other, shopkeepers setting up their stalls, children laughing as they ran through the cracked streets. Rusted metal walls and patched rooftops stretched as far as the eye could see, but despite it all… there was life here.
People knew each other.
They looked out for each other.
It wasn't much—but it was home.
Haruto adjusted the strap of his bag and glanced up.
Beyond the steel walls in the distance, the sky shimmered faintly—streaked with the light of passing Vanguard ships. Their glowing trails cut across the clouds like distant stars in motion.
For a moment, he just watched.
Then he lowered his gaze.
"…Later," he muttered.
His hand moved to his wrist. With a quick tap, a small digital timer flickered to life.
**10:00**
He pressed start. And ran.
The world blurred around him.
Haruto darted through the narrow streets, feet pounding against cracked pavement as he weaved past pedestrians and market stalls.
"Oi! Watch it—!"
"Sorry!"
He didn't stop.
With a quick step, he vaulted over a low crate, landing smoothly before pushing off again. His body moved on instinct—jumping gaps, sliding under hanging wires, kicking off walls to cut corners faster.
This wasn't just running. It was routine.
A shortcut carved from repetition.
He turned sharply into an alley and nearly crashed into someone.
Haruto skidded to a stop, his shoe scraping against the ground.
"Whoa!"
A small figure stood frozen in front of him.
A little girl, no older than five, stared up at him with wide eyes.
"Mio?"
Her expression brightened instantly.
"Haruto!"
He let out a breath, placing a hand on his knee.
"You almost gave me a heart attack," he said, straightening up. "What are you doing out here?"
"Playing," she said proudly.
He chuckled softly and reached down, ruffling her hair.
"Of course you are."
Mio tilted her head, looking up at him curiously.
"Are you going to school?"
"Yeah," he said. "Running late, like always."
She giggled.
Then, with a small smile, she lifted her hand.
"Come out!"
A faint glow flickered beside her.
From the air itself, a small Astral emerged—its form shimmering in soft purple light. It was small and round, with tiny wing-like shapes fluttering at its sides, its body pulsing gently like a living star.
It hovered beside her, letting out a soft, playful chirp.
Haruto's gaze softened.
"…Morning," he said quietly, reaching out.
The Astral drifted closer, brushing lightly against his fingers.
Warm. Alive. He smiled faintly.
"What was its name again?" he asked.
"Lumi!" Mio beamed.
"Right… Lumi."
The little Astral circled lazily around his hand before drifting back to Mio's side.
Haruto watched it for a second longer.
Then his hand slowly dropped.
"…You take good care of her, okay?" he said.
Mio nodded eagerly. "I will!"
From down the street, two figures waved.
"Mio! Breakfast!"
Her parents.
Haruto lifted his hand in greeting, and they waved back warmly.
Mio turned back to him.
"Bye-bye, Haruto!"
"Yeah. I'll see you later."
He gave her one last pat on the head—
Then turned and ran.
His pace picked up again, feet striking the ground in a steady rhythm.
But for a moment… His mind lingered.
That soft glow. That warmth. That presence.
*Even she has one…*
The thought came quietly. Uninvited.
He clenched his jaw slightly and pushed harder, sprinting forward.
Ahead, the massive steel wall loomed.
The line between two worlds.
And Haruto Mori ran straight toward it.