The vision's aftermath left a hollow ache in Aiko's chest. The weight of lifetimes pressed down on her, and the knowledge that she and Ryou had been caught in this endless cycle of loss made it difficult to breathe.
Ryou had let go of her—but only barely. His hands still lingered at her arms, his grip unconsciously firm, like he feared she might vanish if he loosened his hold.
Mei's voice shattered the silence. "Okay. Someone explain to me what the hell just happened."
Aiko swallowed, forcing herself to steady her breathing. "It wasn't just a vision." Her voice trembled. "It was a memory."
Ryou exhaled sharply, stepping back at last, his fingers curling into his palms. "We've lived this before," he murmured, almost to himself. "Again and again."
Mei stared between them. "Wait—you're telling me you two have been stuck in some reincarnation loop?"
Aiko hesitated, but she knew the truth now. The Ninth Tail had been separated by love and sacrifice, by the need to prevent destruction—but at a terrible cost. Every lifetime, they had been drawn together. Every lifetime, they had lost each other.
Ryou's jaw clenched. "And we never got it right."
The words hit harder than Aiko expected, because they rang with truth. The visions hadn't shown a happy ending. Only death. Only heartbreak.
She reached for him before she could stop herself, her fingers brushing his wrist. He tensed at the contact, but didn't pull away.
"Then this time has to be different," she said, voice raw. "We have to find a way to break the cycle."
Ryou's dark eyes locked onto hers, a storm raging within them. "And if we can't?"
Aiko's breath hitched. "Then I lose you again."
The admission was like a knife between them.
Ryou let out a slow, shaky breath, turning away as if trying to regain control. His hands were trembling. "I was supposed to protect you," he murmured, the same words from the vision slipping from his lips. "But I couldn't. Not then." His gaze flickered back to her. "What if I can't now?"
Aiko stepped closer. "What if you don't have to?"
Silence stretched between them. For so long, Ryou had seen his duty as a burden, as something that demanded sacrifice. But this bond—the power between them—it wasn't meant to be one-sided. It was meant to be shared.
Mei cleared her throat, arms crossed. "Hate to break up the moment, but if you two are stuck in a tragic cycle of death and reincarnation, maybe we should focus on, you know, not dying this time?"
Aiko huffed a quiet laugh despite the heaviness in her chest. She turned back to Ryou, waiting. Hoping.
Finally, he nodded. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
For the first time, they had a chance to change their fate.
And they would fight for it—together.