I don't even notice the shift in my surroundings.
All I see is him.
And I charge, blade drawn, straight at the boy.
At first, his eyes follow me eagerly, mouth curved into a grin.
Then his expression falters, confused, almost surprised, before sinking into boredom. One blink, and he looks utterly uninterested.
I reach him.
I strike, furious, with everything I have—
—but before the glowing blade can touch his head, a wall of dense fog erupts upward.
My attack sinks into it, slows, then stops altogether, stuck fast, as though glued in place. I pull, wrench, shake—nothing. Not even a millimeter.
"Sigh… Not even a minute in here, and you're already trying to kill me?"
Silence follows. I just stare at him, unsure what to say.
"Still the quiet type, huh? I was hoping for something different when we met again. Y'know, something warmer. A hug, some tears—maybe both. You get what I mean."
He tries to draw me into a conversation.
But inside, questions blossom faster than answers.
Quiet as always?
Met again?
I don't even know him… do I?
The confusion must be written all over my face, though hidden behind the mask. No surprise, really. A complete stranger acting like we've known each other forever—what else should I feel?
"Ahem." He clears his throat, impatient with my silence.
"Fine, let's try that again. On three, yeah? One, two, and…"
He pauses—
"Long time no see, Vio!"
A wide grin stretches across his pale face. He says my name like he's done it his whole life.
Vio.
Yes. That was it.
The name my parents gave me.
And, ironically, the name destined for the history books.
As a failure.
Funny, isn't it?
"C'mon, at least a hug?" he asks again. But even if I wanted to, I couldn't answer.
"Hmm… kinda disappointing. What is it? Overwhelmed? Or—hah? Don't tell me you've forgotten. The orphanage? The Rays of the Sun? Your friends? Your brother?"
Nothing he says stirs me.
No smile, no tears—nothing.
Until that word.
Six letters.
A word that describes someone close. Family close.
My brother.
"What do you know about him?!" The words rip out of me before I even realize it, my voice breaking into a shout that actually stuns the boy for a moment.
Then his face softens into another smile, as if any concern he had just vanished.
"Tell me now—what do you know about him!" I demand again.
He only shrugs.
"Doesn't matter. We'll have plenty of time to make new memories. For now, let's get back to business and combine it with your little temper. You want answers? Fine. Come take them. If you can keep up."
The wall of fog collapses. He lunges forward.
I stagger back, finally free, only to feel his fist slam into my stomach. A blunt, crushing pain spreads through every joint in my body.
Shocked, I try to breathe, to think, to do anything—but he seizes my face and hurls me sideways, across the fog-shrouded ground.
I fly, slam down hard, roll over and over until I finally stop. My stomach lurches, I want to vomit, but I swallow it down and lift my gaze, dizzy, just in time to see his footsteps closing in.
I brace on trembling arms, manage to push myself half up, when suddenly, thin, shoelace-sized hands of fog whip out and coil around me.
They wrap my throat, bind my torso, and pin me to the ground. Chains of mist stealing every shred of movement.
"Hmm… kinda disappointing, if you ask me," the boy mutters, crouching down to study me.
I gasp for breath, drained, but not broken. There has to be a way out. I cling to that thought as he pokes at me with one finger, tapping my chest like I'm nothing more than a toy.
"Hey, c'mon. Isn't this the part where you pull out some power-up? A hidden trick I won't see coming?"
He's mocking me, but his voice… doesn't carry a hint of a lie.
If anything, his surprise looks real. He genuinely expects something incredible—something I don't even know exists.
"Man, Vio! This is boring," he complains, abruptly straightening up and scratching his chin.
"Ah! I've got it!" he suddenly shouts, hopping backwards in quick little jumps.
Five. Six. Seven—I count them in my head, since I've got nothing better to do. Then that strange boy grins wide, and all the black arms release me at once.
I don't understand why. But I still rise to my feet, accepting the gift of freedom only so I can make sure he doesn't slip away this time.
"Hit me! With everything you've got!" the stranger yells, throwing both arms wide as if waiting for an embrace.
"Come on!"
I hesitate. It looks so obviously like a trap—under normal circumstances, at least.
But maybe this is my only chance. One I can't afford to waste.
He underestimates me. He's arrogant. And arrogance always comes back around.
This is my moment.
Violet energy gathers again in my right hand. Another blade takes shape, glowing with the same color as before, just sharper, even brighter.
My readiness makes the boy's grin stretch even wider. He has no idea what he's brought on himself.
What he's unleashed.
I launch forward.
My right arm swings back.
The distance shrinks.
My mask's eyes flare.
The distance shrinks again.
The blade doubles in size, burning brighter than ever.
I'm right in front of him.
I strike. With everything I have.
An impact.
Then silence.
Silence—and shards.
Violet shards. Pieces of my blade shattering against a black barrier, bursting apart like fragile porcelain against a wall of solid stone.
The weapon crumbles, and all that's left is me—still, my fist trembling.
My eyes widen as the truth sinks in: the danger he poses, my utter hopelessness.
Too late.
His grin vanishes. In an instant. Utterly gone.
"That …" he begins, monotone, before cutting himself off, as if stunned at how pitiful my attack was.
I try to run, but his hand is already on my arm, yanking me in, while his right hand closes around my throat.
And then—he lifts me. Just high enough that my feet can't find the ground. My whole body suspended, trapped in his grip.
My lungs scream for air. My mouth fills with spit. My hands claw at his wrist, but with every second my strength drains away.
"He… hehe… ahahahaha!" He bursts into laughter, then cuts it off just as suddenly, as though his emotions are slipping out of his control.
"You're holding back, aren't you? You're just playing with me! You really do know me—you just don't want to hurt me, right?!"
Even if I could answer, all I could make is a broken rasp.
"Ah, what am I even saying? That doesn't make sense …" he mutters, loosening his grip for a moment.
I gasp in air like it's the last breath I'll ever have.
"BUT WHY!?"
His grip tightens again, squeezing the tears from my eyes, pounding pain through my skull.
"You used to be so much stronger! You could do so much more! Even your gaze alone could kill! Those empty, hate-filled eyes … those were the ones I FELL IN LOVE WITH!"
My vision blurs. Sounds drown into muffled echoes. My arms fall limp, useless, surrendering.
Even the reflex to choke, to breathe—it all fades, meaningless.
I just want to close my eyes. That's the only thought left.
His words slip in one ear and out the other. My spit drips down uncontrolled. Tears fall, unnoticed. Everything turns black. The world. My mind. My thoughts.
No—not everything.
I gasp, a surge of air flooding back into me, jolting me alive. My eyes snap open. I look up—at him.
He's dropped me.
I'm on my knees, gulping air, desperate, alive.
Then I see it.
The black blade.
It looks just like mine—only darker.
That's my first thought.
The second vanishes as he leans down, face close to mine, eyes boring straight into me.
"This is how it's done," he whispers, pushing the blade slowly toward me.
Instinct kicks in—my violet aura flares, a barrier rising around me.
But the blade slips through it, effortless. Like a hot knife through chilled butter.
It comes closer.
I jolt.
I inhale sharp.
A stab of pain.
Blood.
It drips. Onto the blade. Onto my hands. Into my robe. Onto the ground.
It drips. But I feel nothing.
Just disbelief, staring at my trembling arms.
Then at him.
Then my arms fall.
A final dull impact.
Darkness.
And then Silence.