The shrine was silent, yet the air pulsed with something unseen. The revelation still weighed heavy between them, their bloodlines entwined in a fate neither had chosen but could no longer deny. The Ninth Tail had been split, and for centuries, it had searched for itself—through them.
Aiko felt the hum of power still coiling beneath her skin, but it was different now. The energy wasn't just hers—it was theirs.
Ryou hadn't moved. His grip on her hand remained firm, his expression unreadable, but Aiko could feel his turmoil. The bond between them made it impossible to ignore. She could sense his thoughts, the storm inside him, the way his breath hitched every time he looked at her.
He was fighting it. Fighting them.
Aiko swallowed hard. "Ryou…"
His eyes flickered to hers, and for a moment, she saw it—that raw, unguarded emotion he kept locked away. The weight of duty. The fear of what this meant. The unbearable pull toward her that he could no longer resist.
She took a step closer. "I need to know. I need to see more."
He tensed. "Aiko—"
She reached up, fingers brushing against his jaw, gentle, grounding. "You're a part of this too. I can't do this without you."
His breath was uneven, his hands clenching at his sides, but he didn't step back. He didn't stop her when she tilted her face up toward his. And when she closed the space between them, pressing her lips to his, the world broke.
Light exploded behind her eyes, the shrine dissolving around them. The moment their lips met, something ancient surged forward, pulling them into another vision—deeper, more intimate than before.
They stood in the past again. But this time, it wasn't the shrine.
It was a battlefield.
Aiko gasped as she took in the chaos around them. Fires raged, warriors clashed, and at the center of it all—
The same man from before, the one who had held the Kyūbi as she had split her power. But now, his face was twisted in grief, his sword slick with blood. His body trembled, his shoulders shaking as he stared at the figure before him.
The Kyūbi lay motionless on the ground, her golden flames flickering, fading.
"No," he whispered, falling to his knees beside her. "No, no, no."
His hands trembled as he gathered her in his arms, pressing his forehead to hers. "I was supposed to protect you."
Aiko's heart clenched. Ryou… The words echoed through time.
The Kyūbi, barely conscious, reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek in a touch so heartbreakingly familiar that Aiko felt her breath hitch.
"You did," she whispered, her voice fragile. "But this was always meant to happen."
The man shook his head. "Not like this. Not without you."
She smiled, but tears fell from the corners of her eyes. "Then find me again."
And then—
The golden light faded, and the Ninth Tail died in his arms.
Aiko choked on a breath as the vision shattered, the world slamming back into focus. The shrine reappeared around them, her body trembling from the force of what she had just seen. She stumbled, barely aware of herself, until she felt strong arms catch her.
Ryou.
His breathing was ragged, his hold on her tight, as if anchoring himself to reality. He had seen it too. Felt it. And now, neither of them could deny what this truly was.
They weren't just bound by fate.
They had lived this before.
Aiko lifted her gaze to his, her voice barely a whisper. "It was us."
Ryou's hands tightened around her. He was pale, shaken. Afraid.
"This isn't just about power," she continued, feeling the truth settle deep in her bones. "We've been searching for each other for lifetimes."
His breath shuddered, his forehead pressing to hers like he was struggling to hold himself together. "Then why does it feel like I'm losing you all over again?"
Aiko didn't have an answer.
Because deep inside, she felt it too.