The road stretched out, silent as deep space. Yahiko walked, his attention consumed by the book in his hands, the weight of his school bag a familiar anchor on his shoulder. A motorcycle's growl shattered the quiet.
"Yahiko!"
He turned. Akashi brought his bike to a halt, the machine purring beneath him. Perched behind, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, was Mina. Her white hair was a brilliant shock against the city's grays, her blue eyes looking through him, past him.
"Gonna send Mina home first." Akashi's smile was easy, a flash of normalcy.
Yahiko's own smile felt tight on his face. "Don't go skipping class after that. Your credits won't look good if you're late again." His gaze drifted to Mina, hoping for a flicker of recognition. He found none.
"It'll work out. See you later." The bike's engine revved.
"See you, Miwa." The words left Yahiko's lips, fragile.
The bike rolled forward and Yahiko stood for a moment, watching them go. He caught the faint drift of their voices over the receding engine noise.
Akashi's voice, a low rumble of admonishment, reached him first. "At least return a greeting to him."
Mina's sigh was audible even from a distance. "It's nothing to do with you, Akashi."
Akashi ran a hand through his hair. "Don't hate him so much. Well, he might not be a good guy, but he's not a bad one either."
A bitter laugh from Mina. "He's a crafty one. All that niceness is just a performance. That kind of person can lie with a straight face."
Akashi released a weary breath. "That's harsh."
Their bike turned a distant corner and vanished, leaving Yahiko alone in the silent street. A cold, hollow weight expanded in his chest, an old and familiar companion. He looked down, his thumb finding a line on the page. A whisper escaped him.
"The time is out of joint. O cursed spite."
The city was awash in tension. At home, the television news cycled endlessly through segments on "unexplained events" and the recently increased National Defense Drills. The weather itself had turned harsh, with a dry wind that scraped at the windows.
The walk to school was one long gauntlet of whispers. They came from groups of students huddled together, just loud enough to be audible.
"...cursed one..."
"...misfortune..."
He kept his head down, the words washing over the well-practiced facade of apathy. Where are you, Akashi? It's been a year.
In class, a crumpled ball of paper struck his temple. He didn't startle. He didn't turn. The words on his page were his only sanctuary.
The teacher found him after the bell. "Any word from Takighara?"
"None. If he's not dead, he'll come back." The lie was ash in his mouth. He left, the question a ghost in his mind. Where are you, Akashi Takighara?
He took the long route home, his thoughts a storm of broken memories. Distracted, he stumbled into a figure.
"My apologies." He stepped back, eyes darting away. The woman was in her thirties, clad in tight, revealing clothing that felt wrong for the hour. A sharp, professional smile cut across her face.
"Quite alright."
A sudden sting bit into the side of his neck. The world tilted, the asphalt rushing up to meet him, then nothing.
The air was rich with the scent of expensive food. A single piece of paper lay on the table between them—a bill for 130,000 yen.
"You both ordered all this." Mina's voice could freeze fire.
Yahiko's gaze dropped to his lap, his face hot. Akashi just let out a relaxed breath.
"We have the money. Why have it if we don't use it?"
Mina's glacial stare pinned Yahiko. "Don't you have the mind to stop him? Or are you just a fool following a bigger fool?"
His throat closed. No words came.
"My decision." Akashi rose, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Yahiko goes along because he's my friend. Let's go."
Akashi walked out. Mina delivered one last, searing look of contempt before following. Yahiko sat, paralyzed in the plush silence.
The memory dissolved as suddenly as it had appeared, the phantom weight of his shame replaced by a cold, rough pressure against his cheek. He was back in the present, lying on the ground in a narrow alley. His vision blurred.
A clap of thunder.
Pain blazed in his right leg, white and searing.
A cry ripped from his throat.
The woman loomed above him, the gun in her hand now aimed at his head. "The truth, and this ends. Where is the 'mage'?"
Mage? His mind, fogged with pain, clawed for sense. Tears of pure terror mixed with the dirt on his face.
She tutted, shifting her aim. "Let's try—"
A lance of scarlet lightning erupted from the alley's entrance. It didn't strike near the woman—it struck her directly, a silent, brutal impact that hurled her backwards. Her body smashed into the far brick wall with a sickening crunch...
Yahiko could only stare, his mind completely unmoored from reality.
A figure stood between him and the crumpled form of the woman, silhouetted by a fading blood-red aura that distorted the air like a heat haze.
As the energy bled away, the figure turned. Black hair. But the eyes that met his were all wrong—a blazing, infernal red that glowed with their own inner light.
"Akashi?"
Yahiko gasped, the name a choked, disbelieving sound.
It was his friend's face, but it was a mask stretched over a power that made the very space around him seem to warp.
Akashi knelt by Yahiko's leg, his hands hovering just above the oozing, pulsing ruin of the gunshot wound. A chant rolled from his mouth – a low whisper. "Trees of the Great Tree, Great Tree of Evolution. Grant me the Order of the world, the Order to heal."
The red aura pulsed forth from Akashi's palms and washed over the wound. The searing pain lifted, and was simultaneously replaced by a deep, crawling heat. Yahiko watched, fascinated and horrified, as the flesh wriggled, closed, and sealed, leaving only smooth skin behind.
He jumped to his feet, his leg solid, everything around him in tatters.
"What are you now?" The words trembled out of him. "What's a mage? Where were you? Why did she want to kill me?"
The questions erupted not like a dam breaking, but like a flood finally overwhelming a levee he'd spent a year building, each one a desperate, cracking demand. The friend he had mourned was now a stranger wreathed in impossible power. The fragile normalcy of Yahiko's world was shattered beyond repair.