The next morning arrived with a haunting stillness. The bright sky contrasted the eerie quiet that clung to the scarred village. The fire had long gone out. The shallow lagoons, once swelling with chaotic water, now slowly dried, leaving behind cracked earth and scattered debris.
Matsamaru was the only one still asleep, his face twitching side to side like he was trapped in a nightmare. His robe fluttered slightly from the wind creeping in. A hand tapped his shoulder—he jolted awake, sitting up sharply, breath ragged and eyes wild.
Hiro stood over him, smiling softly with his eyes closed. "Having a nightmare should be normal here, after everything we've seen. Good morning."
Matsamaru didn't answer—his breath still heavy, his mind stuck on a distorted image from the dream.
Later, they were outside, walking together through the quiet rubble. Each step echoed like a giant's footfall against the broken ground. Matsamaru finally asked, "Where's Shino and Akira?"
Hiro didn't reply immediately. He reached into his pocket and handed Matsamaru a small piece of bread. Without question, Matsamaru took it and began to eat.
"They went searching for Chimaru," Hiro finally said, a hint of relief in his tone. "That's actually good news for me..."
Matsamaru chuckled lightly, eyes on the ground. "Yeah... same here—wait, what?"
Hiro's smile grew slightly, but he didn't stop walking. "The formation of Honeki is complex," he began, his tone now more serious. "When the research team first attempted to understand the curse… they thought maybe it could be reshaped—reforged into a blessing."
Matsamaru glanced at him, his steps slower now.
"There was something in that process… a forming of life. A sequence was written, unintentionally. A kind of prophecy. One that hinted we should forsake our Honeki—and die by it."
Matsamaru's brow furrowed, his mouth slightly open.
Hiro continued, calmly, "But who would willingly choose death? No one. So instead, we twisted the curse into a weapon—of defense, of attack. A tool. Something to safeguard those without it."
The two walked on, silence falling briefly again. Matsamaru looked at Hiro, still trying to grasp where he was leading with this.
And Hiro—still smiling faintly—kept his gaze ahead, the morning light cutting across the ruins.
"Over time, new techniques started showing up. Some people found their inner dragons… others created things that didn't even make sense. The kind of stuff you'd think came from dreams or nightmares.
This curse—Honeki—that was supposed to break us, make us sick, fade us into nothing… it became a weapon. Something we could actually use.
Techniques like Change of Moment, Mizuno Kōban, Dark Frame, Absolute Prism... They all came from that shift. From turning pain into power.
But not all of them were meant to exist.
Memory Erasure—that one wasn't just dangerous. It was illegal. Born from a group of bandits called the Nimo.
And Giyu... he's one of them."
Matsamaru looked at him for a moment, his steps slowing.
"So that's where you're going with this…"
He narrowed his eyes.
"But how the hell do you know all this?"
Hiro smiled softly, still walking, eyes scanning the horizon.
"I was a scholar once… Haru too. Stuff like this? We studied it like our lives depended on it. Maybe they did."
Matsamaru gave a small nod, hands in his pockets. "Ah… I see."
He didn't push further. But in that silence, the weight of old knowledge and hidden truths hung heavy in the air between them.
Hiro let out a quiet laugh, then his voice turned serious—clear, like a blade slicing through silence.
"Techniques now battle techniques. Honeki is used to fight Honeki. Those without it... are no longer part of this world's wars.
But memory erasure—that's different. It's a forbidden art. But It only affects those with Honeki.
The average mind are untouched."
Matsamaru's eyes widened as the pieces clicked.
"It… can't be…"
Hiro halted. His tone, cold.
"It is."
Matsamaru turned to him, breath shallow.
"You're serious? You mean it?"
Hiro took a step back, smirking.
"Very. Memory erasure doesn't work on him. Haru Iminaqo… is just fine."
Matsamaru smiled, relief flooding in. A single tear slipped down.
"Then…"
Another wave of realization struck. His eyes widened again.
"That means… Haru really killed the leader… it was him…"
Hiro's smile faded. His expression dulled.
"Matsamaru-san, your emotions are… confusing. Are you into males?"
He folded his arms, looking away.
"Either way, stay your path. Giyu is still with us."
Matsamaru blinked, caught off guard.
"Eh?"
"Have you noticed how different Akira and Shino have been?"
Matsamaru looked puzzled.
"Eh?"
Hiro nodded.
"Akira-san was silent for years. Rumored to be deaf… maybe even mute.
Shino? Always kept things bottled in—stoic, cold.
But now? They're emotional.
They're talking.
They're asking questions.
Think, Matsamaru… who do you believe is Giyu?"
The silence that followed was louder than any scream.
Matsamaru's eyes darted wildly, confusion and rage clashing in his chest.
"You played with us... with me."
Hiro's gaze sharpened.
Hiro raised both hands calmly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"Ease... Easy, Matsamaru-san. I only did my part."
He took a step back, his tone still steady, almost too steady.
"I had to tell you Haru was Giyu… to trigger the real one. To make him act. And he did."
Hiro's expression softened just a bit.
"No, I followed the plan. Haru's plan. Every word I said… was what he asked of me."
---
Matsamaru froze.
His lips trembled, wanting to speak—but the words failed.
All he could do was stare.
Shock had paralyzed his voice.
Hiro studied him, calmly.
"Haru planned this from the beginning," he said quietly. "He told me everything—three days ago. Like he knew each moment… would unfold just like this."
Matsamaru clenched his teeth, fury rising.
He stepped forward and swung, his fist crashing into Hiro's face.
"You're lying!" he shouted. "That's a total lie! There's no way Haru would ask you to do all this—then get himself trapped in the void! No way he'd just abandon the mission! Let you torment us!"
But before he could finish—
Hiro's hand snapped across his face.
A slap, sharp and sudden, crackedvthrough the air.
Matsamaru's eyes widened from the impact, staggered by more than just the hit.
Hiro's voice dropped, cold and steady.
"I don't enjoy this, bastard. But you talk like you know him."
He stepped closer.
"You don't. You've never worked with Haru before. This is your first mission with him. But I? I've walked through death with that man."
His words cut deeper than the slap.
"To Haru, this is routine. Just another mission. Don't be fooled by smiles or bonds. One of those two… Shino or Akira… is the real enemy."
Matsamaru's breath caught in his throat.
Hiro's final words pierced the air:
"If you still don't believe me—go ahead. Tell them what I just told you. Lose your memory one more time.
Maybe this time, you won't remember anything ever again."
Hiro turned without another word.
Blood slipped from the corner of his mouth—he spat it out, wiped it with the back of his hand, and kept walking, his footsteps heavy in the silence.
Matsamaru stood frozen.
His face still tilted slightly from the slap, eyes wide… not from pain, but from the weight of everything he'd just heard.
The sting on his cheek was nothing compared to the storm unraveling inside him.
The silence lingered.
Only the wind spoke now.