The next morning, the city was soaked in mist.
Pale light filtered through Kael's window as he tied his uniform tie with practiced hands. His reflection stared back blank eyes, composed face, and behind it all, something quietly breaking.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and left without breakfast.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kael already knew it would be a long day.
...
School was the same, on the surface.
Same hallways. Same gossip. Same background noise of teenage drama. But Kael felt it the shift. Like an unseen current pulling just beneath calm waters.
Rin walked beside him between classes, as usual. She didn't say much this time. Just stole glances, her brows creased with a thought she hadn't found the words for yet.
"Something happen?" she finally asked.
Kael didn't answer right away. He didn't want to lie, but the truth wasn't hers to carry.
"I just didn't sleep well."
Rin didn't believe him but she let it go. That's what he liked about her. She never pushed.
...
At lunch, he didn't go to the cafeteria. Instead, he stood on the rooftop alone, the wind tugging at his collar. Below, students looked like ants. Above, clouds moved too slowly.
They know I'm alive.
His fingers curled around the strap of his bag. He remembered the man from yesterday the cold voice, the confidence. He wasn't a scout. He was bait. A warning.
They wanted him to run.
Kael wouldn't.
...
That night, the trap was waiting.
He stepped out of school after club hours, alone as usual, his footsteps echoing against the quiet sidewalk.
Three shadows detached from the alleyway behind him. No words. Just movement.
Form III: Broken Moon.
Kael shifted his stance, weight centered, eyes narrowing. His body reacted before thought years of training flowing like breath through muscle.
The first attacker lunged with a knife.
Kael sidestepped, twisted the arm, elbowed the man in the throat. A clean takedown.
Second attacker came low baseball bat.
Kael bounded back, used the wall to launch forward, heel cracking into the side of the man's skull. He dropped without a sound.
Third didn't move.
A tall figure. Calm. Arms behind his back.
"You've grown," the man said. His voice was smooth, sharp.
Kael didn't respond.
"I trained with your grandfather. I was there… the night your house burned."
Everything stopped.
The man smiled slightly. "You're not hiding well enough, Kael. They'll come harder next time."
He tossed something onto the ground a small black insignia, shaped like a fang.
Then he vanished into the alley like smoke.
...
Kael stood frozen, staring at the symbol.
His hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
From memory.
From rage.