The air was warm.
The living room smelled of cake, incense, and soft perfume.
Laughter echoed through the apartment as the Kahaderi family gathered around a small table, singing the birthday song to the youngest of them all — Itsumi.
His eyes sparkled. The smile he wore was wide, toothy, and full of joy.
"Make a wish," said his sister Kitza, bouncing with excitement.
Itsumi closed his eyes, his little fists clenched in concentration.
"I wish there will be more happy birthdays like this one."
The candles flickered. He blew. The room clapped.
"Happy birthday!" they all cheered.
His mother, Matzuri, wrapped her arms around him from behind, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His father, Miyamura, raised his glass with a grin. Mitzuo, the ever-composed older brother, handed out plates while Kitza cut the cake with excessive flair.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn't.
From the rooftop of a nearby building, unseen eyes watched. Black-clad figures, heavily armed, moved with military precision. They marked targets. Whispered orders crackled through radios.
Then came the signal.
A small device, cold and metallic, arced through the night.
Itsumi turned toward the window.
For a second, time seemed to slow.
He saw it — that strange object, spinning mid-air, sailing across the room in eerie silence.
His eyes followed it, wide and confused, just as it hit the ground.
Then came the light.
Blinding. All-consuming.
Then… silence.
Itsumi's ears rang. His vision was white. Shapes swirled, unfocused, muted.
When his senses returned, the world had changed.
He was on the floor. His body trembled.
Before him lay his mother, motionless… drenched in red.
He turned to his side — his father, slumped against the wall. Kitza, sprawled across the table. Mitzuo, face down on the floor.
All of them. Gone.
A scream built in his throat. His eyes widened in pure, animal panic.
But before he could make a sound—
A gloved hand clasped over his mouth.
Darkness fell again.