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The rain fell like shattered glass against the Fujimoto family mausoleum.
I stood there, numb, watching droplets slide down Sarah's engraved name. *Fujimoto Sarah. Beloved daughter. Taken too soon.* The dates beneath were cruel—only eighteen years separated them.
To my left, Yuta Kuroda stood rigid in his black suit, his face a hollow mask. The boy who once smiled brighter than sunlight now looked like a ghost wearing human skin.
To my right, Miyu Tachibana clutched *Ghost Veil* against her chest, her knuckles white around the scabbard. The sword's polished surface reflected the tears she'd never let fall.
All around us, the Fujimoto clan mourned. Old men in traditional hakama bowed their heads. Young soldiers in dark suits clenched their jaws. And there, at the front—Reina Hasegawa, Sarah's right hand, shaking so violently I thought she might collapse.
As I stood there, the memories came flooding back—all those moments we'd shared, laughing together under cherry blossoms, studying late at school, sneaking out to that ramen shop Sarah's family owned. It had actually been... *fun*.
*This is where it begins,* I realized. *This moment, right here—where our past ends and whatever comes next takes its place.*
The priest's words blurred into meaningless noise. My fingers found *Crown's Fang* at my hip—the sword she'd left me. The one she'd made for us but never got to give.
*Why now?* The question burned through me like acid. *Why make these for us only to leave them as parting gifts? Was this your way of saying we'd always be together? That we were meant to rule with you?*
A sob tore from my throat before I could stop it. Miyu pulled me into her arms, her grip painfully tight. I felt her heartbeat—too fast, too angry—as my tears soaked into her black dress.
"Damn you," I whispered against Miyu's shoulder. "Damn you, Sarah. You showed me how bright the world could be, then left me to see how truly dark it is."
The rain fell harder, as if the sky itself mourned with us.