(The peak is bare stone and broken pine. Wind scrapes across the ridge like a blade being sharpened.)
(Ryo and Kyou Ren stand ten steps apart.)
(No cheering. No witnesses.)
(Just breath. Just blood already drying on sleeves from battles that led here.)
Ryo's grip tightens on his sword.
Kyou's posture doesn't change—still, steady, like the mountain learned to stand from him.
(A pause stretches.)
Ryo swallows.
Ryo: "…Kyou."
Kyou Ren: "Don't say my name like that."
(The words don't shout.)
(They cut.)
Ryo: "Like what?"
Kyou Ren: "Like you still have the right."
(A beat.)
Ryo exhales through his nose, like he's trying to breathe down a panic.
Ryo: "I'm here. I came. I'm not running."
Kyou Ren: "You're late."
(Ryo flinches—because it's true in every way that matters.)
(A thin crack of thunder rolls somewhere far below the clouds.)
(Then—)
CLANG!
(Ryo moves first.)
(Kyou answers like he already knew the timing.)
(Sparks burst between their blades—white and angry.)
Ryo: "You improved."
Kyou Ren: "…You stole my line."
Ryo: "Had to. Couldn't let you show me up forever."
(For half a second… it almost feels like old times.)
(Like they're sixteen again, bruised knuckles, stolen food, laughing at nothing.)
(Then Kyou's next swing comes in lower—meaner.)
SHRAAAK!
(Ryo barely twists away. The edge bites his jacket. Fabric tears.)
Kyou Ren: "This isn't training."
Ryo: "I know!"
(Ryo pushes forward anyway—because if he stops moving, the weight of everything else will crush him.)
(They exchange rapid strikes—brutal, clean, precise.)
(Every hit is a question.)
(Every parry is an answer they hate.)
(Their footwork matches without meaning to.)
(Kyou steps left—Ryo mirrors.)
(Ryo feints high—Kyou doesn't flinch.)
(The mountain hears the pattern and remembers them.)
Ryo: "Why are you doing this?"
Kyou Ren: "Because you keep asking that."
Ryo: "Because I don't—"
Kyou Ren: "Because you don't understand."
(Kyou's sword hums with Seishu—tight, controlled. Not wild.)
(The air around the blade feels heavier, like gravity pays attention to him.)
Ryo's breathing starts to roughen.
His shoulder stings where he took an earlier hit.
His hands—his hands are steady, but his arms are getting slow.
(He hates that.)
(He hates that his body has limits when his heart doesn't.)
Ryo: "How much longer can you keep this up?"
Kyou Ren: "Shut up… and find out for yourself."
(Kyou's voice cracks on the last word—so small Ryo almost misses it.)
(But he doesn't miss it.)
(Because it sounds like someone holding a door closed with their back.)
(Kyou pulls back half a step.)
(His free hand drops.)
Two fingers touch the stone.
The mountain answers.
A glyph blooms beneath Ryo's feet—dark lines spreading like roots.
KRK-KRK-KRK!
Ryo: "Earth—!"
Kyou Ren: "No escape this time."
(The stone grabs.)
(It doesn't wrap like rope.)
(It claims.)
Ryo's ankles sink—then his calves.
Ryo: "Think again!"
(Ryo explodes upward, Seishu snapping through his legs.)
He jumps as the glyph tries to swallow him—
BOOM!
(Stone spikes spear up where his heart was.)
(He clears it by inches, lands hard, skids.)
His boots burn from friction.
Ryo: "Nice trick… old friend."
(Kyou's eyes narrow at the words "old friend," like it tastes wrong.)
Kyou Ren: "Don't call me that."
Ryo: "Then stop fighting like you remember me."
(Kyou's jaw tightens.)
And for the first time, anger shows—real anger, not cold purpose.
Kyou Ren: "I remember everything."
(Kyou's hand flicks up.)
A circle of heat forms behind him.
The air distorts.
Kyou Ren: "Fire Signet: Hōkaen."
(Three fireballs erupt—dense, bright, heavy.)
Not wild flames—compressed cores that spin like planets.
They launch—
Then twist midair.
They turn.
They lock on.
Ryo: "…You're kidding."
(The fireballs home in like they can smell his heartbeat.)
Ryo bolts.
The first skims past his cheek—
WHOOOM!
Heat steals the moisture from his skin.
The second crashes where he steps—
BOOM!
Stone shatters into shards that bite his legs.
The third curves ahead of him, cutting off his escape.
Ryo: "Damn it—!"
(Ryo plants his foot, pivots, and swings.)
His blade clips the fireball—
Instead of dispersing, it detonates sideways—
BAAAANG!
(Ryo is thrown, shoulder-first, into rock.)
His teeth rattle.
His ears ring.
For a second the world is only white noise and pain.
(He forces his vision back.)
Kyou is already there.
Kyou's blade comes down—
CLANG!
(Ryo blocks, knees buckling.)
Ryo: "Come on! You used to fight better!"
Kyou Ren: "Maybe I've just been holding back… until now."
(Kyou's Seishu surges.)
A precise slash—no flourish.
SHHK!
It carves across Ryo's arm.
Blood sprays onto the stone in a thin arc.
Ryo: "Gh—!"
(He bites down so hard his jaw hurts.)
He doesn't step back.
He can't afford to.
Because every step back is another step away from the only reason he's still standing.
(Yua.)
(Rumi.)
(Kyou—before this.)
(Kyou's sword stays humming.)
He stands over Ryo like a verdict.
Rain begins as a few slow drops—too cold, too heavy.
Kyou Ren: "Stand down."
(A beat.)
Kyou Ren: "Walk away… and I won't have to cut you down for good."
(Ryo's arm trembles as blood runs down to his fingertips.)
He looks up.
His eyes are furious.
But under it—something worse.
Something broken.
Ryo: "…You know I can't do that."
Kyou Ren: "You can."
Ryo: "No."
Kyou's brows draw together.
Kyou Ren: "Why?"
(Ryo laughs once—choked.)
Ryo: "Because if I walk away… I'm the kind of person who lets people get taken."
(He sees Yua's face for a flash—stoic, blunt, the way she looked at him like he was stupid for still being kind.)
(He hears her voice in his head.)
"Don't run in circles, Ryo."
Ryo: "And I'm done being that guy."
(Kyou's eyes flicker.)
For a heartbeat—regret tries to surface.
Then he kills it.
Kyou Ren: "Then die standing."
(Kyou thrusts.)
The blade drives into Ryo's side—deep enough that the world tilts.
Ryo's breath leaves him in a violent gasp.
But his hand shoots out—
He grabs the blade.
Barehanded.
Steel bites into his palm.
Blood floods his grip.
Kyou Ren: "—What are you doing?!"
Ryo: "…What I should've done from the start."
(Ryo's Seishu flares—raw, desperate.)
His muscles seize.
His bones scream.
He holds the sword in place anyway.
Then—
He pulls his other fist back.
Everything he has left coils into that one motion.
Ryo: "How do you like… that…?!"
He punches Kyou Ren in the chest.
THOOM!
(The sound is wrong—too heavy for a human body.)
Kyou flies backward like the mountain threw him.
He crashes, skidding through wet stone.
For a moment, Kyou doesn't move.
Ryo staggers.
His knees threaten to fold.
He coughs blood.
His vision tries to go dark at the edges—
But he forces it open.
Because he has to see what comes next.
(Kyou pushes up, breathing hard.)
His sternum should be cracked.
His ribs should be ruined.
But he stands anyway.
Kyou Ren: "…Tch."
He wipes blood from his mouth with his thumb, stares at it like it offends him.
Then he looks up.
Kyou Ren: "That's the best you got…?"
Ryo tries to smile.
It comes out more like a grimace.
Ryo: "Not… even close."
(But his body lies.)
And they both know it.
(Ryo's blurred gaze catches something.)
A shape.
Standing near Kyou—just behind him—like it's always been there.
Tall.
Still.
Flickering, like a reflection in broken glass.
Ryo's heart stutters.
Ryo: "…That figure."
(He knows it.)
He's seen it in dreams.
In training.
In the moments between sleeping and waking—when the world feels thin.
Ryo: "It's… the one… from before."
(The figure doesn't move.)
Doesn't speak.
But the air around it feels like the pause before lightning.
(Kyou doesn't even look back.)
As if he can't see it.
Or refuses to.
Kyou surges forward again—no hesitation.
He shoulder-checks Ryo full force—
BAM!
Ryo slams onto his back.
The sky spins.
Rain hits his face like needles.
Kyou stands over him.
Kyou Ren: "Get up."
His voice is ice.
Kyou Ren: "Or are you done?"
(Ryo's hands dig into the mud and stone.)
He tries to push—
His arm gives.
He grits his teeth so hard he tastes blood again.
Ryo: "…Not… done."
(The figure steps closer.)
And for the first time—
It speaks.
Not loud.
Not emotional.
Just absolute.
Figure: "Lose."
(Ryo freezes.)
He stares past Kyou, at the figure.
Rain slides down his lashes.
Ryo: "…What?"
Figure: "Lose."
Ryo: "Are you serious?"
(His voice cracks—not from fear.)
(From betrayal.)
Ryo: "I didn't come here to lose."
Figure: "You came here to learn what you are."
Ryo's throat tightens.
Ryo: "I'm not—"
Figure: "You're not strong enough."
Ryo's eyes widened.
Ryo: "…No."
(He shakes his head like he can throw the truth off.)
Ryo: "I can still— I can still fight—!"
Figure: "You can still die."
(The words land like a hand on his chest.)
And suddenly, everything makes sense in the worst way.
The exhaustion.
The missed timings.
The fact that Kyou's attacks have been pushing him like a tide.
Not toward victory—
Toward inevitability.
Ryo's breathing turns ragged.
Ryo (whispering): "This… isn't winnable."
(The figure's gaze doesn't soften.)
Figure: "Not today."
Ryo: "Then what am I supposed to do?!"
(He hates how desperate he sounds.)
(He hates that he's asking for permission.)
(He hates that a part of him already knows.)
Figure: "Live."
Ryo's eyes burn.
Ryo: "You think I can live with this?!"
(The figure doesn't answer.)
Because it doesn't need to.
(Kyou raises his hand.)
And the sky responds.
Blue-white cracks split the clouds.
Lightning coils around Kyou's arm like a chained dragon.
Not natural.
Not random.
It moves with intent.
Ryo looks up, breath shaking.
Ryo: "…So even lightning bends to your will now?"
(A weak chuckle tries to escape him.)
It dies halfway.
Kyou Ren doesn't answer.
He just lets the storm speak.
Kyou Ren: "Lightning Signet…"
(The air tightens.)
Kyou Ren: "RAIKŌ SENKŌ."
The lightning twists—
Solidifies—
And becomes a wolf.
Massive.
Spectral.
Made of crackling punishment.
Its fangs are bolts.
Its eyes are twin storms.
It snarls without sound.
The mountain flinches.
Ryo's body tries to move.
It doesn't.
Because somewhere deep down, his instincts are screaming—
THIS IS AN EXECUTION.
(The figure stands beside him now.)
Close enough that Ryo feels it like a shadow on his skin.
Ryo: "You… you've been watching me."
Figure: "Yes."
Ryo: "Why?"
Figure: "Because you needed to see the cost."
Ryo swallows.
His hands shake.
Ryo: "If I lose here… Yua—"
Kyou Ren: "Enough."
(The wolf lunges.)
KRRRRAAAASH!!
(Blinding blue-white consumes the mountaintop.)
Sound disappears.
Then returns as a roar that shakes bone.
Ryo braces—raises his blade, raises his arms, raises everything—
But the figure's voice cuts through the chaos.
Figure: "Don't block."
Ryo: "What?!"
Figure: "If you block, you die."
Ryo's eyes snap wide.
Ryo: "Then what—?!"
Figure: "Fall."
(And Ryo understands the cruelty of it.)
Not to collapse.
Not to surrender.
But to stop offering his body as a target.
(To let the strike pass where his heart would be if he stood proud.)
(Ryo's knees buckle on purpose.)
He drops into the mud.
The lightning wolf tears over him—
So close the hair on his arms burns.
It slams into the ridge behind—
BOOOOOOM!!
Stone explodes.
A shockwave hurls Ryo like a ragdoll.
He crashes.
Rolls.
Stops face-down.
The world comes back in pieces.
Rain.
Cold.
Pain.
A ringing silence.
Ryo tries to breathe.
His chest doesn't want to.
He coughs—blood and rain.
He turns his head—
And sees Kyou walking toward him again.
Slow.
Certain.
Like the ending is already written.
(Kyou stands over him.)
Rain runs down Kyou's face.
He doesn't wipe it away.
His grip tightens on his sword.
Ryo's voice comes out small.
Ryo: "…You really believe… there's no other way…?"
(Kyou's expression doesn't change.)
But his eyes—
His eyes look tired.
Like he's been holding up a collapsing ceiling alone.
Kyou Ren: "There was."
Ryo blinks.
Ryo: "…Was?"
Kyou Ren: "Before."
(That's all he says.)
(But it hits harder than the lightning.)
Ryo's eyes glaze.
His throat tightens until it hurts.
Ryo: "I failed…"
His fingers twitch in the mud like they're trying to grasp something that isn't there.
Ryo: "I failed… both of you."
(Rain mixes with the blood on his lips.)
Ryo: "Yua… Yua…"
(A choked sound.)
Ryo: "Kyou…"
(Memories flash in broken panels.)
—Yua's blunt stare, standing between him and fear like it was routine.
—Kyou laughing with him under a cheap streetlight, sharing bread like it was treasure.
—Rumi's hand in his, small and warm, trusting him without question.
Ryo's eyes squeeze shut.
Tears leak anyway.
Ryo: "I'm sorry."
(Kyou's jaw clenches.)
For a moment, it looks like he might say something—anything human.
Then he swallows it down like poison.
Kyou Ren (quietly): "This was the only way."
(Not just to Ryo.)
(To himself.)
(Kyou steps back.)
He turns.
His cloak drags through the rain.
He becomes a silhouette against the storm.
(The mountain watches him go and feels colder for it.)
Narration (V.O.):
Some men, when they're pushed too far… when there's nothing left to hold onto… become shadows themselves.
They walk alone.
They stop asking for answers.
They start collecting names.
(Thunder rolls.)
Kyou's silhouette fades into the downpour.
And he is gone.
(Ryo lies in the mud.)
Rain keeps falling.
The sky doesn't care.
His eyelids flutter—heavy.
His breathing is shallow.
But his mind won't let him sleep.
Because it's cruel.
Because it's loyal.
Because it remembers.
(Through the blur of rain and pain, he sees it.)
Two silhouettes at the edge of his vision.
One is Kyou—back turned, walking away into darkness.
The other—
The other stands still.
Shorter.
A quiet posture.
A presence like snow in a room that's burning.
(Yua.)
Not truly there.
But it's the only place that matters now.
Ryo's throat trembles.
Ryo (whispering): "…Yua."
(The silhouette doesn't answer.)
(It never does.)
But in his head, her voice returns—clear as steel.
"If you choose something, carry it. Don't drop it when it gets heavy."
Ryo's fingers curl into the mud.
He tries to lift his head.
He can't.
So he stares at the two shapes until the rain turns them into ghosts.
Narration (V.O.):
"A star can pierce fate and still fall.
But the scar it carves becomes a compass—
pointing only forward."
🌀 END OF ARC 1 — THE STAR THAT PIERCED FATE