The night was unnaturally quiet. Even the crickets that usually sang beneath the rice fields were silent, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Itsuki sat on the edge of the ruined shrine, gazing at the broken torii gate. His body still ached from their last battle, his hands trembling when he remembered the feel of shadow closing around his throat. He had survived only because Tsukihime had pushed herself beyond her limit.
He clenched his fist. I can't let her keep saving me. I have to be stronger.
As if hearing his thoughts, Tsukihime emerged from the storehouse, her silver hair glowing faintly under the moon. She looked pale, almost fragile, yet her eyes carried the weight of centuries.
"It's time," she said softly.
"Time for what?"
"The Moonlight Trial. If you are truly a Starbearer, you must prove it tonight. Otherwise… the seal will consume us both."
Itsuki blinked, throat tightening. "What do you mean consume?"
She stepped closer, lifting her broken pendant. The fragments glimmered like frozen tears. "The seal binds the darkness within the Hoshikage. Without a Starbearer to wield it, the shards will poison the one who carries them. That's why I can't hold it much longer. If you fail… I will vanish."
Her words struck him harder than any blade. "Then I'll pass. No matter what."
Tsukihime's expression softened, just a little. "Bravery suits you. But remember, courage without control is meaningless."
She raised her hand, and the shrine around them shifted. The broken wood and crumbling stone dissolved into silver mist, replaced by an endless field of glowing lilies swaying under a moonlit sky. The air shimmered with star-dust.
Itsuki gasped. "This place…"
"The Trial's domain," Tsukihime whispered. "A mirror of your soul."
Before he could ask more, the lilies rippled, and from their glow rose a figure—an exact copy of Itsuki, except its eyes were empty, and its shadow stretched unnaturally long.
The double tilted its head and drew a blade of black light.
Itsuki's stomach dropped. "That's… me?"
"Your fear, your doubt, your weakness," Tsukihime said. "Defeat him, or be devoured."
The shadow-Itsuki rushed forward with terrifying speed. Itsuki barely had time to summon his star-blade, the silver energy sparking to life in his hand. The clash rang out, steel against light, sending shockwaves across the lily field.
The fight was brutal. Every strike from his shadow forced him to face the truth—his hesitation, his anger, his self-doubt. Memories flashed with each blow: the villagers calling him useless, his father's disappointed sigh, the fear that he would always be powerless.
The shadow pressed him down, blade at his throat.
"Pathetic," it hissed in his own voice. "You're nothing but a boy pretending to be a hero."
Itsuki's arms trembled. His heart screamed to give up. But then—he saw Tsukihime standing at the edge of the field, her eyes on him, unwavering. Not as a goddess, not as a warrior, but as someone who believed.
Something inside him ignited.
"No," Itsuki growled, forcing the blade upward. "I'm not pretending. I don't care if I'm weak. I'll fight—because someone needs me."
Light erupted from his chest, flowing into his star-blade. With a roar, he slashed upward, cutting through his shadow. The false Itsuki shattered into fragments of darkness, dissolving into the lilies.
Breathless, he fell to his knees.
The domain shimmered, fading back into the ruined shrine. The lilies dissolved, replaced once again by broken stone and moonlight.
Tsukihime approached, kneeling beside him. She reached out, her cool hand resting against his cheek. "You passed."
Itsuki looked up at her, sweat dripping down his face. "Barely."
She gave a small, rare smile. "That is enough. The stars recognize you now. From this moment, you are a true Starbearer."
The pendant at her chest pulsed once, and a new fragment of starlight fused into Itsuki's hand, forming a faint mark like a silver crescent.
For the first time since this all began, Itsuki felt something burning in his heart—not fear, not doubt.
Hope.