The night after the shadows attacked, silence fell heavy over the village of Aokami. Houses stood dark, shutters nailed shut, while families whispered fearful prayers to forgotten gods. No one dared walk the streets—not after seeing the sky rip open and creatures born of nightmare crawl through.
But one small house still had a lantern lit.
Inside, Itsuki knelt before his grandmother's altar, his forehead pressed to the tatami. The smell of incense curled into the air, bitter and sweet. His parents sat behind him, their faces pale with worry.
"Is it true?" his father asked at last, his voice shaking. "That girl… she's from the heavens? And you… you fought those monsters?"
Itsuki's hands tightened in his lap. He wanted to lie, to say it was all a misunderstanding. But the memory of the Starblade burning in his hand, the weight of Tsukihime's gaze, and the rift in the sky—all of it made lying impossible.
"It's true," he said quietly. "And it's not over. More shadows will come. They're after her… and me."
His mother gasped. "Then stay here! If we all hide, maybe—"
"No." Itsuki raised his head. For the first time, his voice carried steel. "If I stay, the village will only suffer more. I have to leave… with her."
The words stabbed his chest like thorns, but he knew they were true.
His father's face crumpled, pride and sorrow mingling in his eyes. "I always knew you weren't meant for this small place, Itsuki. But… I never thought the stars themselves would claim you."
His mother wiped her tears and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Come back alive. No matter what happens, you're still our son."
Itsuki swallowed hard, hugging her back. "I promise."
---
By dawn, he stood at the edge of the village. Tsukihime waited for him beneath the torii gate, her silver hair catching the pale light of morning. She had fashioned a cloak from spare cloth, but even wrapped in rags, she radiated an unearthly presence.
"You said your farewells," she asked softly.
Itsuki nodded, adjusting the small satchel slung over his shoulder. "Yeah. I told them I'd return. Though… I don't know if that's a promise I can keep."
"You'll keep it," Tsukihime said with quiet certainty. "The stars do not choose those who abandon their paths midway."
He glanced at her, frowning. "You talk like you already know everything about me."
Her eyes shimmered, unreadable. "Not everything. But I know enough."
They began walking down the dirt path that led away from Aokami. Behind them, the village bells rang softly, as if offering a final farewell. Ahead stretched the vast wilderness—rolling hills, forests dark with mist, and the jagged silhouette of the northern mountains.
It was the first time Itsuki had ever left home.
The silence between them lingered until Tsukihime finally spoke. "Beyond those mountains lies the Temple of Hoshigami. If we can reach it, the priests may help us repair the pendant. Without it, I cannot contain the rifts."
Itsuki glanced at the broken crystal around her neck. "And if we don't repair it?"
Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Then the shadows will consume this world."
He exhaled slowly. "No pressure, huh?"
For the first time since he'd met her, Tsukihime actually laughed. It was a small sound, fragile as glass, but it eased the weight in his chest.
---
By midday, they reached the forest that stretched like a sea of green at the foot of the mountains. The air grew cooler, the shadows deeper. Itsuki's hand itched for the Starblade, but it only came when summoned. He still didn't understand how it worked—was it willpower, or instinct, or something else entirely?
As if sensing his unease, Tsukihime said, "The Starblade is not forged of steel. It is forged of resolve. Doubt will weaken it. Fear will shatter it. But belief—belief sharpens it beyond any mortal weapon."
"So basically, if I panic, I die."
She tilted her head. "That is one way to phrase it."
Before he could reply, a rustle came from the undergrowth. Itsuki froze, gripping a fallen branch like a club.
From the bushes, a girl stumbled out. She looked about his age, her clothes torn, her hair messy, her eyes sharp and alert like a wild animal's. On her back was a bow far too large for her thin frame.
When she saw them, she didn't scream or run. Instead, she raised the bow and notched an arrow, aiming straight at Tsukihime.
"You," the stranger hissed. "Stay away from me, star-born."
Itsuki blinked. "Wait, what—?!"
Tsukihime's expression hardened. "A hunter of the Stars…"
The arrow glowed faintly with a seal carved into the wood. This girl was no ordinary traveler.
And just like that, Itsuki realized their journey had only just begun—and not everyone who crossed their path would be a friend.