The forest air was sharp and cold under the twilight sky. Reina's horse was exhausted, foaming at the mouth, but she didn't stop until she saw the towering wooden gate of the Kiryuu Clan's eastern outpost. The structure stood tall, proud and vigilant, with lanterns burning like floating stars.
She wore no crown, no sigil. Just a traveler's cloak torn at the hem, a leather satchel strapped across her back, and the haunting look of someone running from something—or toward someone.
The guards at the gate eyed her cautiously.
"Halt!" one of them barked, stepping forward with his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.
Reina raised both hands slowly, lowering her hood. Her raven-black hair spilled down, tangled with wind and forest leaves. Her face was smudged with dirt, her lips pale from the chill.
"I… I don't remember who I am," she said, her voice soft and breathless, trembling just enough. "I woke up in the woods, and I followed the wind. It led me here."
The guards exchanged a look.
This was Kiryuu territory—the only clan known to offer shelter to strangers, even those cloaked in secrets.
"Bring her in," one of them said after a moment's hesitation. "Lady Sayaka will want to know."
---
Later That Night — Eastern Guest House, Kiryuu Territory
The room was quiet, lit only by a single oil lamp. Reina sat on the edge of the futon, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes wide open. The healer had tended to her superficial wounds, given her hot tea, and left her alone.
But Reina didn't sleep.
She stared at the floor, her thoughts spiraling.
Sayaka was here.
Somewhere in the same compound.
The same air.
The same walls.
Reina clenched her fists.
She had watched her fight like a phantom in armor, cutting through enemies like the wind cuts through mist. She had watched her rescue a stranger—her—without even knowing her name.
Sayaka's scent still lingered on the leather of her armguard.
"I will be close to you now," she whispered in the quiet. "Even if you never remember me... I will make you see me."
---
Next Morning
The Kiryuu Clan's main compound was a vision of tranquility—gardens blooming with fire lilies, koi ponds reflecting the golden sky, and warriors training in the courtyards with deadly grace.
Reina, dressed in borrowed robes of the clan's guests, walked slowly through the outer courtyard. Her steps were tentative, her head low, but her eyes—sharp and restless—moved constantly, seeking one face among many.
And then she saw her.
Sayaka Kiryuu.
Clad in her dark training uniform, her long black hair tied up high, a wooden blade in hand. Her every movement was precise, fluid, powerful.
Like poetry in motion.
Reina stopped breathing for a moment. Her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of her sleeves.
Sayaka turned mid-spin, catching a blade mid-air from her sparring partner, twisting and bringing it down with swift force.
Reina's knees weakened.
Sayaka didn't notice her.
Not yet.
But Reina wasn't in a rush.
She smiled, lips barely parting.
"This time… I'll be the one to get close first."
Later that evening, Sayaka stood in the clan archives, a scroll in hand. She'd requested the list of all new arrivals seeking shelter in the Kiryuu lands — it was standard procedure, yet something tugged at her instincts.
She scanned the list, lips tightening.
No girl matching that description.
No masked warrior.
But she had seen her. Clear as day. The masked figure moved like a trained elite, yet no record, no mention — it was like she didn't exist.
"Odd," she murmured. "Ghosts don't wield blades."
But tonight, one ghost in white slipped out through her chamber window.
Reina's hands gripped the edge of the ledge as she swung herself down from the high frame of her own room. Her breath caught briefly—then she landed silently on the soft earth below, knees bending to absorb the fall. The white coat she wore fluttered slightly around her legs — a simple, oversized traveler's garment with a high collar and loose sleeves, almost masculine in cut. It cloaked her identity as much as it did her figure.
She wasn't allowed to leave. Not until the elders confirmed who she was. Not until her story of amnesia convinced them all.
But Reina didn't care.
She needed to see her.
She crept through the quiet corridors like a whisper, the estate soaked in moonlight. Lanterns flickered low. Shadows painted the walls in patterns of lattice and leaves.
When she reached Sayaka Kiryuu's residence, she noticed something odd.
The door… was open.
A single lantern burned inside.
Reina stepped forward cautiously, heart thudding behind her ribs.
Sayaka stood in the center of the room — her silhouette softened by the warm glow, her hair tied loosely at her nape. She wasn't wearing her usual armor or training uniform. Instead, she wore a pale, linen tunic with wide sleeves, the neckline slightly open, paired with black hakama pants that hugged her waist with quiet elegance.
She looked… different.
Peaceful.
Beautiful.
Reina froze just outside the open door, staring — struck speechless.
Sayaka moved across the room slowly, barefoot, holding a parchment in one hand, seemingly reading or thinking. She walked with calm purpose, completely unaware of the girl hidden in the shadows.
Reina leaned closer—so lost in her that she didn't notice when her own hand brushed against the wood, creaking slightly.
Sayaka turned instantly.
Sharp.
Alert.
Reina ducked behind the doorframe, holding her breath.
A long moment passed.
Too long.
She dared to peek around the edge—just a glance.
But Sayaka was gone.
Before she could retreat, a strong hand clamped the edge of her collar and pulled.
In the next breath, Reina was pinned against the wall inside the room.
Sayaka stood in front of her—so close their breaths mixed in the narrow space between them. Her arm pressed against the wall beside Reina's face, the other gripping Reina's wrist firmly.
"So," Sayaka said, voice low, calm, but deadly sharp, "you can move silently. I was wondering how long you'd play the meek guest."
Reina blinked, frozen. "I—I was just walking. I couldn't sleep."
Sayaka leaned in a fraction closer. The scent of rain-washed earth and steel filled the space between them. "You jumped from a window to take a walk?"
"I didn't think anyone would notice," Reina whispered.
"I did."
Sayaka's smile was slow and unsettling — like the sky just before a summer storm. "You know it's dangerous to wander the compound. Especially when no one knows who you really are."
"I'm sorry… Miss Sayaka."
Sayaka held her gaze for a long moment. Her eyes flickered—curious, calculating.
Then she let go, stepping back with eerie calm.
Reina expected a warning. A command to return. But instead—
"…Come," Sayaka said quietly.
Reina blinked. "What?"
Sayaka stepped back, her expression unreadable. "Walk with me."
Reina hesitated, her mind rushing through reasons to refuse, excuses to escape—but her feet moved on their own. She followed Sayaka into the moonlit garden path behind the estate, where stone lanterns cast soft glows and night blossoms opened in silence.
Sayaka didn't speak at first.
Neither did Reina.
Their footsteps were soft against gravel and moss, the world around them hushed but heavy—like it was holding its breath too.
Then Sayaka finally said, "You're not from around here."
Reina flinched inwardly. "I… don't remember."
"Convenient."
Silence again.
Sayaka turned her gaze to the sky, her tone casual but piercing. "You wear a swordsman's posture, even when you lie."
Reina's breath caught. Her fingers curled at her sides.
"I can tell," Sayaka continued, stopping at the edge of a koi pond. "How you move. How your eyes scan. You're no ordinary girl. And certainly not helpless."
Reina stayed silent.
Sayaka looked at her, head tilting slightly. "Who are you really, unknown girl?"
The night air thickened between them.
Reina's voice was soft—almost too soft. "Do I have to be someone to be worth saving?"
Sayaka blinked at the response.
But instead of answering, she only chuckled—low and surprised.
"Fair enough," she said, turning toward the water again.
Moonlight danced across her face, softening the sharp angles, the hardness in her jaw. Reina couldn't stop staring. Couldn't stop feeling.
This moment wasn't supposed to exist.
And yet—it did.
Sayaka broke the silence once more, her voice gentler this time. "Whatever you're hiding… I'll find out eventually."
"I know," Reina said, barely a whisper.
Sayaka didn't respond, but her lips twitched — the ghost of a smile, a warning, or maybe both.
They stood there together, two strangers bound by secrets under the weight of stars.
The garden was silent except for the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Moonlight laced the surface of the koi pond in silver streaks.
Sayaka's eyes hadn't left Reina.
Something about her presence scratched at the edge of memory—those eyes, that stance, even the way her silence was too measured, too trained.
Sayaka crossed her arms. "Tell me," she said casually. "Do you know how to swim?"
Reina hesitated. Her lips parted, but no sound came. There was a long, uncomfortable silence.
"…No," she admitted finally, her voice barely audible. "I don't."
Of course she didn't. In Tsukihana, noble women were raised like porcelain—beautiful, delicate, untouched by the elements. Reina had once tried to learn. But her limbs had never moved right in the water, and after a while, she stopped trying. Her family hadn't seen the point. Girls were made to be adored, not to fight tides.
She was thinking about that—distracted by the memory—when suddenly…
A strong hand pushed her back.
Hard.
The moment blurred.
A sharp gasp. The cold slap of water.
And then—she was sinking.
The pond swallowed her whole, its still surface shattering into chaos. Reina flailed, panic flooding her chest faster than the water. Her limbs jerked, kicking uselessly. Her lungs screamed.
Above the surface, Sayaka stood like a statue. Unmoving. Watching.
Testing.
Reina's hand broke the water, reaching—
A breathless cry, choked by water.
Then nothing.
Silence.
She disappeared beneath the surface, bubbles rising like ghosts.
Sayaka's brow furrowed, but she didn't move—not yet. Her grip on her own sword tightened. Her breath came slower. She waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
She's either who I think she is… or she's dead.
(To be continued)