There's a strange peace in doing the same thing every day. Same route. Same rain. Same silence.
But peace is fragile. Like glass. And I could already feel the cracks.
The next morning started the way it always did.
I woke up before sunrise, cooked a simple breakfast rice, eggs, miso soup. No sound but the faint hum of the fridge and the quiet clink of chopsticks on ceramic. No good morning. No footsteps in the hall. Just me. Like always.
The photo on the shelf stayed where it was dusty, half-faded, untouched.
Mom. Dad. My little sister.
All gone.
I don't visit their graves. I don't believe in flowers on stone. I remember them with every breath I take, every fight I survive. That's enough.
...
School didn't wait for grief. Neither did the people inside it.
Class 2-B was alive with chatter as usual. I moved through it like a ghost unnoticed, untouched. Rin waved at me as I walked in. I gave her the smallest nod in return.
She didn't push. She never did.
But her eyes lingered.
...
Second period. History class.
Mr. Jeef droned on about feudal lords and lost wars. I stared at the board but saw none of it. My focus was elsewhere on the way the janitor walked past the windows too slowly. On the car that parked outside the gate and never left. On the black umbrella that passed by twice in twenty minutes.
Maybe I was just being cautious.
But when you've been hunted once, you never stop scanning for predators.
...
After school, I took a different path home. Just in case.
Five blocks down, I heard it the soft click of a shoe just out of rhythm. A breath drawn too sharply. I turned a corner fast and stopped. Waited.
Nothing.
Then.
A man stepped out of the alley. Black coat. Sunglasses, even in the fading light. Too still. Too quiet.
"Kael Hiroshi," he said.
I didn't answer.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You've inherited it, haven't you? The Shadow Fang."
I didn't move. Didn't breathe.
He took a step closer. "You shouldn't have survived. But you did. Now, they're looking for you."
Form I: Ghost Breath.
I stepped backward, vanished into the alley's blind corner before he could finish his sentence.
He turned, surprised but I was already behind him.
One strike. Not to kill just to remind him.
He hit the ground hard. Groaned.
"Tell them," I said quietly, "I'm not who I used to be."
And then I was gone.
...
Back in my room, heart still pounding, I wiped sweat from my brow and stared at my reflection in the window.
There was no peace now. No more pretending.
The shadows were moving again.
And they remembered my name.