YURI KOI
The first rays of dawn painted the room in soft hues when I stirred awake. The village was quiet, unusually quiet, as though it too was resting after a long night. My mind wandered immediately to Sai.
I slipped out of bed, bare feet brushing against the wooden floor. His room was only a few steps from mine, but the short walk felt like an eternity. I hesitated at his door when I noticed it was slightly open, a faint draft escaping from within. For a moment, I wondered if I should wait until he woke on his own… but my heart didn't allow it. Gently, I pushed the door and stepped inside.
The air was cooler here, carrying the faint scent of him — earthy, a little metallic, but somehow warm and grounding. I closed the door quietly behind me and tiptoed toward the bedroom.
There he was.
Sai lay on the bed, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm. His face, always carrying the weight of battles and pain, looked impossibly soft in sleep. My eyes lingered on him, but then I froze when I noticed — he wasn't wearing a shirt.
My breath caught in my throat. His body was mapped with scars, faint lines crisscrossing like remnants of a war only he had endured. Each scar told a story I didn't know, and my heart clenched at the thought of the suffering he must have gone through in the three years we'd been apart.
Quietly, I slipped onto the bed beside him. The warmth of his body drew me in, and I couldn't resist pressing close, wrapping my arms around him. For a while, I just stayed like that, listening to his heartbeat, steady but heavy, as if each thump carried the echoes of his past.
Then, my eyes fell upon it — the mark.
On his chest, just above the heart, a faint glow shaped like a 1/3 full moon. It pulsed ever so lightly, almost alive, as though it carried secrets that even Sai himself couldn't share. My curiosity outweighed my hesitation, and with trembling fingers, I reached out and touched it.
The moment my skin brushed the mark, a warmth spread beneath my fingertips. It was strange — not like touching skin, but like pressing against something deeper, something not of this world.
Sai stirred.
His eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the room. For a heartbeat, confusion flickered across his face before recognition softened it. His gaze landed on me, close to his chest, my hand resting on the moon-mark.
"Yuri…?" His voice was low, still heavy with sleep.
I bit my lip, realizing what I had done, but I didn't pull away. "I… I saw it. This mark. It's… glowing. What is it, Sai?"
He glanced down at my hand, then back into my eyes. There was a silence between us, thick with everything left unsaid.
Sai exhaled slowly, a weary smile tugging faintly at his lips. "That mark… is my curse, just like my memories. It's a piece of my family, what's left of them."
My chest tightened at his words, at the raw honesty in his tone. I wanted to cry, but instead, I leaned closer, holding him as though I could shield him from all the pain he carried.
"Then let me carry some of it with you," I whispered, pressing my forehead against his.
Sai's eyes softened, and for the first time, I saw a hint of peace in them.
SAI SHINU
Sleep had finally claimed me, heavy and dreamless after the chaos of the gate. For once, my mind was quiet. No illusions, no blood, no screams — just silence.
Then warmth. A sudden, delicate warmth spreading across my chest.
I stirred, but before my eyes opened, the world shifted.
I was standing again in the past — the same place I never wanted to return to. The smell of dust and gunpowder filled my lungs. My heart raced because I knew exactly what was coming.
There he was — my father. Standing strong, proud, his eyes filled with that unshakable fire. And then… the shot rang out.
I saw it hit him in the chest.
The same place Yuri's fingers were pressing now.
The blood spilled again, darker than night, and my father fell — just like before. My hands reached out, but no matter how many times I relived it, I could never catch him. I could never stop it.
The vision shattered.
I gasped awake, eyes snapping open. The first thing I saw wasn't blood, but Yuri. Her face close, her hand resting on the glowing 1/3 full moon mark on my chest.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. My heart was hammering — not from her touch, but from the memory it dragged me back into.
"Yuri…?" My voice cracked.
She looked guilty, worried, as if she'd done something wrong. "I… I saw it glowing. I touched it, and then you— you looked like you were in pain. What is this, Sai?"
I swallowed hard, trying to calm the storm inside me. My chest still burned as though the bullet had passed through me instead of him.
"That mark…" I forced the words out, though every syllable felt heavy. "It's tied to my past. To my father. Whenever it reacts, I see it again… the moment he died. Every time, it's like I'm there, watching it all over."
Her eyes widened, and her hand trembled slightly against me.
"It's not just a scar or a symbol," I continued, my voice low, bitter. "It's a reminder that no matter how far I run, no matter how much blood I spill, I can't escape what happened. The moon follows me. The past follows me."
For a long moment, silence filled the room. I could feel Yuri's heartbeat through the hand she still pressed against me. Instead of pulling away, she leaned closer, her forehead brushing mine.
"Then I'll face it with you," she whispered.
Her words cut through the weight like light in the dark. My chest still ached, the vision still burned in my skull, but with her there — holding me, grounding me — it didn't feel as suffocating.
I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. For the first time since I'd woken to that cursed mark, I didn't feel like I was alone in it.