The wind brushed across my face as I stared into the setting sun.
"4 years ago… everything ended," I said quietly.
I didn't look at Kentaro. Couldn't. My eyes stayed fixed on the horizon because if I turned to face him, I might break.
It started like any other Monday. I was fifteen. Akia was thirteen. My little sister. My best friend. We shared everything, food, games, even secrets we swore we'd take to the grave.
That day, I came home from school first. And like always, Akia should've already been there… trying to cook dinner, probably making a mess of the kitchen while humming off-key.
But the house was empty.
No laughter. No smell of pasta or omelet rice. Just silence.
I didn't think much of it at first. Maybe she stopped by a friend's place. Maybe she was helping a teacher. I waited.
One hour.
Three hours.
Five hours.
My calls went unanswered. My parents… they weren't picking up either.
That's when the panic set in.
I ran out into the streets, heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. I searched every corner of the neighborhood, calling her name until my throat burned.
And then… I saw it.
In the distance, a… shimmer. Like heatwaves rising off asphalt. Only bigger. It swallowed half the block in a pulsing, circular haze.
Every instinct screamed at me to stop. To stay away.
But my gut… my gut told me she was there.
I ran. Faster than I ever had in my life.
The closer I got, the quieter everything became.
No cars. No dogs barking. No crickets.
Just my footsteps and my heartbeat, thundering in my ears.
Something was wrong.
And then… I saw her.
Akia.
Face down on the pavement.
Motionless.
"AKIA!" I screamed, almost slipping as I dropped to my knees beside her.
Her skin was ice cold. Her eyelids were dark, as if she hadn't slept in days.
But she wasn't moving.
I shook her. I screamed louder. I begged. Nothing.
"AKIA!!!"
I called the police with trembling hands, sobbing so hard I could barely see the buttons.
They came. They took us both to the hospital.
I sat there in that waiting room, knees pulled to my chest, dialing my parents' number over and over.
No answer.
When the doctor finally came out, one look at his face told me everything.
"I'm… sorry," he said softly. "There was nothing we could do."
Those words… they didn't just hit me. They shattered me.
I screamed until my voice gave out.
"WHY?! WHERE ARE MY PARENTS?! WHO DID THIS TO HER?! WHY HER?!"
No one had answers.
I pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to block out the world, my foot tapping uncontrollably on the tile. Rage burned in my chest, with nowhere to go.
Then… they appeared.
A man and a woman. Not doctors. Not the police.
The man's name… It's fuzzy now. But his last name… Vale.
He had this calm, controlled presence that made the chaos in my head even louder.
He crouched down beside me, his voice smooth, deliberate.
"What happened to your sister," he said quietly, "was not human. It was a creature… something this world needs to eradicate."
He pulled out a photo.
A woman. The image was blurry, distorted by static, but I could still make out the inhuman gleam in her eyes, the unnatural markings along her arms, and her clothing seemed blurred, but I could tell now that what she was wearing was her armour.
"That's what killed Akia," Vale said.
And in that moment… all I wanted to know was why.
Why did that thing do it? Why kill my sister?
Vale and his secretary eventually left, leaving me sitting there alone in that freezing hospital hallway. My hands were shaking, my legs felt like they would give out… and still, I had no answers.
So I did the only thing I could think of: I ran home.
It was late, way past the time my parents should've been looking for me or Akia, but their phones never rang. They didn't show up at the hospital. Nothing.
When I turned onto our street, my chest actually felt lighter for a moment; the lights were on, the car was in the driveway. Everything looked normal.
I thought… finally. I thought maybe they'd explain everything, that maybe this nightmare would make sense.
I remember bursting through the door, my voice tearing out of my throat:
"MOM! DAD! WHERE WERE YOU?! WHY DIDN'T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONES?!"
They were just… sitting there. Laughing. Talking. Like nothing had happened.
But when I screamed, their faces changed. Concern. Confusion.
"Kira, darling, what's wrong?" my mom asked softly. "Sorry about the phone, we must've missed the calls. What happened?"
That's when I snapped. My anger drowned everything else out.
"YOU'RE SITTING HERE LAUGHING WHILE MY SISTER, YOUR DAUGHTER, IS DEAD!"
My voice shook the walls, maybe even the whole neighborhood. I was shaking so badly I could barely breathe.
And then…
They looked at each other. Tilted their heads. Looked back at me.
And said words.
8 words…
Words that shattered me.
More than losing Akia ever could.
"Kira… who's your sister? You're our only child."
I froze. My stomach twisted, and everything inside me went cold.
"W-what do you mean?" I stuttered. My voice sounded so small.
My dad looked at my mom, then back at me. His voice had real concern in it, real concern.
"Kira, honey… I think you hit your head or something. Do you want us to take you to the hospital?"
They weren't joking. They weren't pretending; I could see the seriousness in their eyes.
They truly didn't remember Akia.
I screamed at them until my throat burned. I told them everything, how they raised her, how we played together every day, how they spent every last yen to make her happy.
But they just stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
I ran.
I ended up at the park, sitting on the swings for hours. Trying to tell myself there had to be an explanation. Maybe grief broke their minds. Maybe they were too shocked to process what happened.
Just making up every excuse to be able to reason with my parents.
Eventually, I walked back home, ready to apologize, ready to hear them out. Ready to try to solve why they didn't remember her. Their own daughter
But…
It was too late.
They were gone.
Not gone as in they left.
Gone.
The lights were on. The TV still played. Food was half-eaten on the table.
The car is still in the driveway.
But my parents… vanished.
Like they'd been erased from the world, just like Akia.
And now, it was just me.
No sister. No parents. No one.
I wanted to end it all that night.
I didn't scream.
I couldn't.
My voice was already broken, my heart shattered into millions of pieces, but there was one thing I could do.
I ran until I found myself standing on a bridge, staring down at the water, thinking maybe this pain would finally stop if I just… jumped.
But then…
A boy appeared.
He talked me down. Stood there in front of me like it was his duty to save me, even though we'd never met.
I could feel my heart racing as I turned to him, the person who'd saved me. His eyes were wide; I could see he was tearing up just by listening to my story. I slowly opened my mouth and softly said.
Kentaro… it was you.
The waves crashed louder than expected, and the wind blew just a tiny bit stronger.
Kentaro's breath caught. "Me…?"
My voice trembled but didn't falter.
"Don't deny it. I know. Your eyes… your voice… even your scent. It's the same as that night.
You saved me when the world had already ended. You stopped me from jumping.
And I swore that day… I'd never forget you."
Kentaro's lips parted, but no sound came out. A faint, broken memory stirred somewhere deep inside, but it refused to surface.
"After that night," I said, my tone hardening again, "I swore I'd destroy every last Alberline for what they did to Akia… for what they did to my family.
And no matter what happens, Kentaro…"
I stepped closer, my usual flat voice cracking just enough to sound human again.
"My determination will never falter."
Kentaro swallowed, his voice low, almost a whisper.
"…If it really was me… if I was the one who saved you that night… then I'll do it again."
I tilted my head and blinked.
"I'll save you from this…This life that you don't deserve," he paused for a brief moment. "I don't care what it takes."
And for the briefest moment, something flickered in Kira's eyes, a warmth, a question, maybe even hope, before the walls came back up and her expression returned to its flat calm...