HiritoEverett
The rooftops of Rivenden had always been my favorite place to walk. Up here, the noise of the streets softened into a hum, the stink of the fishmongers and sweat-drenched blacksmiths dulled by the wind.
Below, life carried on in its chaotic rhythm—merchants arguing over prices, children sprinting past guards with stolen apples, and the occasional noble strutting about like they owned more than just their silks.
From above, I could almost convince myself that Rivenden was still the same as it had been years ago—before the attack, before the smoke and blood that changed everything.
Almost.
My boots clicked softly against the clay tiles as I moved, hands tucked into the long white coat that trailed at my calves. The insignia of the Tenfold Circle was stitched across my back, bold enough to be seen even from a distance, but I wasn't in the mood to let the city's folk gape at me today.
Rivenden adored me too much for my liking, charisma's a curse when you'd rather be left alone. They called me the Water Serpent, the "charming terror," and a dozen other ridiculous titles, but all of them came with the same problem: too much attention. Too many eyes.
King Knox had told me personally to attend today's meeting. That meant it was important. Knox wasn't the type to summon us unless something significant was brewing.
Normally I'd shrug it off, show up late, maybe not at all. But when the king himself fixed those steady eyes on me and said, "Hirito, I need you there,"—well, even I knew not to brush it off.
I let out a breath through my teeth. Knox was one of the few people I respected enough to listen to without complaint. He carried weight, and not just because of his crown.
Still, part of me was tempted to stop for a drink before heading to the capital. A bottle of strong cider, maybe something harsher. I could already imagine the looks on Hisashi's face when I strolled in reeking of booze.
His forehead would crease, he'd rub at his temples, and mutter something about me being hopeless. Irene would scold me between laughs. The others would shake their heads, caught somewhere between annoyance and resignation.
The thought made me grin. But I knew why I considered it. Drinking wasn't about the taste or the buzz—it was about pushing away those memories. The smoldering wreckage of Rivenden's gates. The cries of his children...
I tightened my fists inside my coat pockets, forcing my feet to keep moving. The rooftops were uneven here, some chipped by time, others slick with moss, but I crossed them with practiced ease.
I'd spent years in Rivenden, sneaking above the crowds, avoiding attention, watching the world from a place where it couldn't reach me.
The trials were underway now. The chatter in taverns and halls was almost feverish—everyone claiming this year's batch of candidates might be the strongest in a generation.
Even Knox had hinted at it. Raw talent, untamed but burning bright. Part of me was curious, though I'd never admit that to the other Tenfold. Curiosity felt too close to caring, and caring was dangerous.
Still… I couldn't help but wonder.
It was then that voices drifted up from the streets below. I slowed, peering over the roof's edge. The marketplace stretched out, crowded with buyers and sellers, guards weaving through the flow like wolves through sheep. And among them, I spotted four familiar figures.
Slade was easy to notice first—broad-shouldered, golden wheat hair catching the light, the kind of aura that screamed prince no matter how hard he tried to look casual.
Beside him walked Ski, arms crossed, her shoulders tilted with that habitual slouch. Her scowl hadn't softened with age, if anything it had sharpened. A contrast to her sister, who walked on the other side.
Tifa. She was composed, graceful in the way she carried herself. There was warmth in her expression, a kindness that reminded me painfully of her mother. She laughed at something Ski muttered, her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
And then I saw him.
A boy trailing just slightly behind, his hair pale as snow against the bustle of Rivenden's colors. His steps were measured, calm, but there was weight in his presence, like the air itself bent faintly around him.
Kin…
Noro…
I froze where I stood, the world beneath me blurring at the edges.
Memories began to flood my mind. Kentaro, laughing as he sparred with me, swearing his boy would outgrow us both someday.
Aiko, fussing over her son, her eyes bright with hope. The night I returned to Rivenden and found it broken…
And now here he was, walking among his friends, taller, stronger. Kentaro's jawline, Aiko's eyes—but something else, too. Something I couldn't quite understand.
My throat felt tight. I hadn't expected to feel this, not so suddenly, not like a fist in the chest. For a long moment, I just stared. And then, despite the weight pressing against my ribs, the corner of my lips curved upward.
"Well," I muttered to myself, voice barely more than a whisper against the wind, "this year's trials just got a hell of a lot more interesting."
The faint smile lingered, bittersweet. He was grown, changed, and yet I could still see the boy Kentaro had spoken about with such pride.
I lingered long enough to catch fragments of their laughter, Slade nudging Ski, Tifa brushing her hair from her face, Kin's quiet responses. Then I pulled my coat tighter around me, shook off the heaviness in my chest, and turned away.
The rooftops beckoned me forward, each leap carrying me farther from the sight of them. The capital waited, and so did the meeting Knox had called. Important business, important words. I didn't doubt it. But even as I moved toward duty, one thought burned in the back of my mind.
This year's trials… they would change everything.
Kin Noro
I don't know why, but as we walked, I felt this prickling on the back of my neck. Like someone's eyes were on me. I lifted my head, scanning the rooftops.
Nothing but the sharp angles of tiles and shadows, the occasional bird perched where it shouldn't be. Still, the sensation lingered, heavy, like a weight pressing down between my shoulders.
"...Weird," I muttered under my breath.
"What's weird now?" Ski's voice cut through my thoughts.
I glanced her way. She had her hands stuffed in her pockets, shoulders slouched, eyes narrowed.
"Just felt like someone was watching us," I said.
Ski rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "You're still a weirdo. Some things never change."
Tifa let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't be mean, Ski. If Kin feels something, maybe it's worth noting."
"Or maybe he's just paranoid," Ski shot back, but the corner of her mouth tugged up.
I smirked faintly, brushing it off. If someone was watching, they weren't doing anything about it. And honestly, I had enough going on without worrying about ghosts on rooftops.
"Anyway," I said, shifting the topic, "what about you three? What were your first trials like?"
The shift in atmosphere was immediate. Ski and Tifa exchanged a glance, the kind only sisters could share, then both looked back at me.
"Dream realm," Ski said flatly.
"Maris," Tifa added quietly, as if that one word explained everything.
I blinked. "Dream realm?"
Tifa's voice softened. "We were trapped inside a world she created. Nothing there was real, but it felt real. The places, the people… even the fears she pulled from us. We had to figure out what was real within ourselves to escape."
"Sounds strange," I said, the thought of being toyed with in dreams felt off.
"It wasn't just strange," Ski said bluntly. "It was a nightmare. Literally. She dug into our heads, twisted things we didn't even know we were afraid of. Tifa almost got stuck because she kept chasing after—"
Tifa nudged her sharply in the side before she could finish. Ski hissed and glared at her, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her.
"...Because I thought I could save something that wasn't real," Tifa corrected, her tone firm but calm.
My chest tightened at that. I didn't press further.
Slade cleared his throat, drawing my attention. "My trial was different," he said, his grin tempered with something heavier. "I had to face my father."
"King Knox?"
He nodded. "Not the real one, obviously, but close enough. The trial forced me to stand across from him—his voice, his power, his expectations—all of it weighing down on me. Every strike I made, it felt like I was breaking something sacred. And every strike he made reminded me of how far I still have to go."
He said it like he was joking, but his eyes didn't match the grin.
I exhaled slowly. "So, you guys got dream puzzles and family drama."
"And you got?" Ski raised a brow.
"A guy trying to cave my skull in with his forehead on a train," I said dryly.
They all stared at me.
I shrugged. "Honestly, compared to your trials, it sounds like mine was the worst kind of fun. Like, 'congratulations, Kin, you get to be bludgeoned into a paste while your Matter eats you alive.' Real exciting stuff."
Tifa covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Slade chuckled openly. Even Ski snorted, shaking her head.
"You're unbelievable," she muttered.
We walked for a while longer, the streets shifting as we moved deeper into Rivenden. The market stalls gave way to cleaner stone roads, banners fluttering lazily in the breeze.
Guards marched past in pairs, nodding toward Slade with deference but not daring to interrupt. Citizens parted subtly, giving us room—well, giving him room. Being the prince came with its own invisible bubble of space.
The quiet between us stretched for a bit, broken only by the echo of our steps. My mind kept circling back to the trials, to the faces they'd seen, the illusions they'd broken through.
I wondered if I would've been able to handle Ski and Tifa's trial, or if I would've gotten stuck like Tifa almost had. Wondered if I could've stood across from a father who was still alive, still whole, instead of a memory that stabbed at me every time it surfaced.
But then again, it didn't matter. I had my trial. I passed.
"Hey, Slade," I asked finally, breaking the silence, "where exactly are we going?"
He glanced back over his shoulder. The morning light caught in his hair, making it shine like gold. His grin was easy, and familiar.
"There's something I've been dying to do ever since you got back," he said, his voice carrying just enough weight to make me wary.
**
The deeper we walked into the city, the more the noise thinned out. The stone roads gradually gave way to dirt paths, the towering buildings fell behind, and the crowd of people was replaced with trees stretching out.
I hadn't expected this part of the capital to look so… untouched. The further we went, the more it felt like the city was deliberately holding its breath here.
The air carried a softness the central districts never had, cooler and tinged with the scent of grass and water. Hills rolled gently into the distance, spotted with wildflowers. A few birds scattered when we passed, their wings flashing against the patches of sunlight breaking through the canopy above.
The sound of the market stalls and clamor of boots on cobblestone vanished, swallowed up by the forest. Even the distant hum of chatter seemed like it had never existed here.
When we reached a clearing, a lake spread out before us, calm and glassy, reflecting the sky like polished silver. I slowed down and let the others walk ahead a few paces, crouching by the edge.
My reflection wavered against the ripples as I dipped my hand into the water. It was cool, cleaner than anything I'd touched in weeks. My fingers traced the surface absently, as if stirring something that should've been familiar.
"Do you remember this place?"
I glanced back. Tifa stood just behind me, her expression unreadable but softer than usual. For a second, I froze.
Did I remember it? My eyes followed the curve of the lake, the cluster of trees leaning slightly toward the water, the faint trails of animals in the dirt.
I stayed crouched for a moment, forcing my mind to dig, but nothing came. With a quiet breath, I stood and turned to face her.
"…No. I don't." The words felt heavier than they should've been. My chest tightened. "I don't know why my memories are like this. I wish I did. And… if this place was special to us when we were kids, then I'm sorry."
Her lips parted slightly, as if she had something to say, but before she could, the air split.
A beam of light tore through the clearing, faster than my eyes could follow. Instinct alone saved me—I raised my arm, dark matter swirling up in a violent pulse, and the blast collided against it, sparks flying out across the water. The lake rippled violently from the force.
I twisted around, heart hammering, and saw him.
Slade.
He stood a few paces back, his body already coated in a glow of radiant light. His usual grin stretched across his face, sharp and daring, like he had been waiting for this exact moment. His stance was low, solid, the air itself crackling around him.
"I've been waiting for this," he said, his voice steady but burning with excitement. The glow around him flared brighter, wrapping him like armor. "You and me, Kin. Let's see who's stronger."
The glow of his light matter flared until it looked like his very body was aflame. Then his hair began to shift—blonde fading, strand by strand, until it gleamed pure white under the sun. His smirk deepened, his eyes reflecting nothing but challenge.
I couldn't help but smile. For all the chaos, for all the memories I couldn't reach, this felt… right.
The crimson ring pulsed. My hair darkened rapidly, streaks of black bleeding through until the last of its color vanished. The familiar weight of dark matter pressed against my chest, begging to be released.
I closed my eyes. For a moment, everything went silent. The air, the water, even my own breathing seemed to disappear. Then I drew in a deep breath, steady and slow, before opening them again.
Purple light cut through the darkness of my vision, my eyes glowing with that unnatural intensity. The world sharpened instantly—the twitch of Slade's hand, the bend of grass in the wind, the faint movements of the others in the background. All of it felt clearer, closer.
My smile lingered as I lowered into my stance, one hand hovering near the hilt of my blade, dark matter curling around me in smoke-like tendrils.
Slade's aura pulsed brighter, his grin matching mine. Neither of us spoke.
We both launched forward at the same time, the ground beneath our feet exploding from the force. The air cracked as our matters collided head-on, light and darkness converging, ready to tear the clearing apart.