The Campfire and the Cracked Moon
The ruins had quieted at last.For the first time since their descent, the endless roar of collapsing stone and shrieking flame had given way to stillness. The ceiling above them—an impossible distance away—cracked open just enough to show the moon. It wasn't the same moon that hung over the surface world; this one glowed pale red, as though bleeding light into the pit.
A small fire flickered between them, fed by shards of dried crystal and bits of broken ruin-wood. Gomi sat cross-legged beside it, poking at the embers with a piece of bone. Hosogiri leaned back against a rock, chewing on something unidentifiable but crunchy. Minagami sat across from them, silent, her face unreadable behind the glow.
For the first time since she'd joined them, there was no shouting, no blades drawn—just an uneasy quiet that felt heavier than any battle.
"Alright," Gomi said at last, breaking the silence. "Let's talk about the elephant in the pit. Why are you even here, Minagami? You don't exactly strike me as the 'team spirit' type."
Hosogiri snorted. "That's rich coming from you."
"Shut up," Gomi shot back, though his lips twitched into a faint smirk.
Minagami's gaze didn't lift from the fire. Her fingers traced the edge of her sheathed blade. When she finally spoke, her tone was low, rough with something that wasn't anger—but close to it.
"I didn't come here for treasure. Or glory."
Her eyes flicked to Gomi, sharp as steel. "I came here because of you."
The words hit like a thrown dagger.
Gomi blinked. "What?"
"Rumors," Minagami said. "Up on the surface, they spread fast. They said a kid—young, reckless, cursed—had awakened the Oni King's mark. That he was traveling with my cousin, Hosogiri. And that he'd somehow… charmed him."
Hosogiri choked on his food. "Charmed me?! That's—"
"Quiet," she snapped. "You vanished years ago, Hoso. You left without a word. I thought you were dead. Then I start hearing about this 'pit child' and how you were following him like some lost puppy. What was I supposed to think?"
Her voice trembled for the first time. "I thought he was manipulating you. I thought he'd twisted you into something else. So, yes—I came here to kill him."
The fire cracked. The sound filled the space where none of them dared speak.
Finally, Gomi chuckled—bitter, but not cruel. "So that's it, huh? You thought I was some kind of brain-eating demon king controlling your cousin?"
Minagami didn't flinch. "You're not making a good case against it."
Hosogiri coughed again, wiping his mouth. "You could've just asked."
Minagami glared. "And you could've just written!"
The two cousins locked eyes—one furious, the other sheepish.
Gomi watched them, a strange warmth flickering in his heart. Family. He'd never really had one. Not one that stayed, anyway.
The Argument That Turned Soft
The silence broke again—this time with Hosogiri muttering, "You know, for someone who came all this way to murder Gomi, you're sitting awfully close to him."
Minagami's eyes shot daggers at him. "Do you want me to move?"
Gomi grinned, leaning back on his hands. "Nah, stay right there. I like the company. Even if you did threaten to stab me when we met."
Her cheeks twitched—barely noticeable, but enough for Hosogiri to see it. He grinned wide. "Ohhh, don't tell me you're going soft, Minagami."
"Shut up."
"You're blushing!"
"I said shut up!"
Gomi laughed—a full, unrestrained laugh that echoed through the ruins like music after too much silence. It startled even him. "Ha! The big bad warrior's getting all red over me!"
"Shut up or I'll actually finish what I came here to do," Minagami growled, but her voice lacked venom.
Hosogiri wheezed, nearly falling over. "Oh, this is priceless. The 'merciless blade of the north' turned into a tomato!"
Gomi wiped tears from his eyes. "You two are the worst family I've ever met—and I'm counting my cursed ancestors."
Minagami huffed, crossing her arms. "I don't owe you an apology."
"Didn't ask for one," Gomi replied, still smiling. "But you did save my life. So… thanks, I guess."
She hesitated. "You guess?"
"Yeah, well. You yelled at me while doing it, so I'm not sure it counts."
For a brief moment, all three of them laughed. The kind of laugh that hurt—the kind you didn't realize you'd been needing.
The Edge of Memory
As the fire dimmed, Minagami's gaze softened. "You want to know something strange?" she said quietly. "The Pit saved me."
Gomi's laughter died. "What?"
She turned her eyes upward, toward the faint red glow of the moon. "When Cheri fell… when the city at the edge of the Pit collapsed, I fell with it. I should've died. Everyone did. The streets burned. The wind tore everything apart. But when I hit the lower levels…"
Her voice wavered, but she kept going. "Something caught me. I don't know what it was—some kind of light, or spirit, or maybe just fate—but it didn't let me die. The Pit didn't want me gone. It wanted me here."
Gomi listened silently, his usual sarcasm gone.
"When I woke," she continued, "I found people who'd been living here. Survivors. Not monsters, not cursed—just people. They took me in. Gave me food, taught me how to read the runes, how to walk through darkness without losing your mind. They said the Pit has a heart, and sometimes it chooses who gets to stay."
Hosogiri stared at her. "You never told me that."
"You never asked."
He looked away, guilt flickering across his features.
Minagami smiled faintly. "You and I were always close, remember? When we were kids, you'd sneak into the temple garden just to steal flowers for me. Said they made me smile."
Hosogiri flushed. "That was one time—"
"Eight times," she corrected. "And you nearly got caught every single one."
Gomi snorted. "So that's the legendary Hosogiri? Flower thief extraordinaire."
Hosogiri threw a pebble at him. "Shut up, King of Ashes."
The fire popped, scattering tiny embers into the air.
Minagami's smile faded slightly. "When you disappeared, Hosogiri… I looked for you for years. And when I heard the rumors, when I realized you were alive—" Her voice broke. "I didn't know if I wanted to find you or scream at you. But I came anyway. Because family doesn't stop when it hurts."
Hosogiri reached out and touched her shoulder gently. "You found me. That's what matters."
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. And now that I have… I'm not letting you go again."
The Question
The fire burned lower. Silence returned—not awkward this time, but warm. Comfortable.
Minagami leaned forward, eyes glinting in the light. "So, Gomi."
He blinked. "Yeah?"
"You're not running anymore, right?"
"From what?"
"From yourself. From whatever you're supposed to be."
Gomi frowned. "Supposed to be?"
"The Oni King," she said. "The cursed flame. The kid everyone whispers about." She paused, watching the way his jaw tightened. "You keep acting like you're fine with it, but I've seen the way you look at those runes. You're scared of what they'll say."
Gomi's fingers tightened around the bone stick. "Yeah, well… maybe I don't want to find out I was meant to destroy everything."
Minagami stood, dusting ash from her armor. "Then don't do it alone."
He looked up. "What?"
She extended a hand toward him. "You're traveling anyway, right? Then you're taking us with you."
Gomi blinked, confused. "Wait—us? Since when do I—"
"Since now," she interrupted. "You need people who can watch your back. Hosogiri's already halfway useless, and I can actually hit things."
"Hey!" Hosogiri protested.
Minagami ignored him. "So? You in?"
Gomi hesitated. The firelight flickered across his face—caught between pride, exhaustion, and something gentler.
He glanced at Hosogiri, who shrugged. "You're already stuck with me. Might as well add one more."
Gomi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're both insane."
"Is that a yes?" Minagami pressed, smirking.
Gomi groaned, looking away—but the tips of his ears turned red. "...Yeah, fine. It's a yes."
Hosogiri whooped. "Hear that? He's blushing!"
"I am not!" Gomi snapped. "It's just the fire!"
"Sure it is," Minagami said, grinning.
"Both of you—shut up before I change my mind!"
Their laughter filled the ruins again. It wasn't loud, but it echoed far—through broken halls and hollow bones, through corridors that hadn't heard joy in centuries.
The Path of Ruins
Later that night, when the others slept, Gomi stayed awake. He stared into the dying fire until it was only smoke. His mind replayed Minagami's words—the fire choosing her, the Pit saving her, the way fate seemed to pull them all back together.
Maybe it doesn't just want blood, he thought. Maybe it wants memory.
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a shard of crystal he'd taken from the earlier fight. It pulsed faintly in rhythm with his heartbeat.
What are you hiding from me? he wondered.
The crystal didn't answer. But far away, something stirred deep below. A heartbeat. A name.
And in another corner of the ruins, Hoguro heard it too.
Hoguro's Solitude
Hoguro walked through tunnels lined with red crystal veins, his torch flickering low. The visions from before still haunted him—the betrayal, the two brothers, the endless fire.
He'd found another mural tonight. This one was different—half-destroyed, but showing the same two figures from his vision. Beneath them was an inscription that read:
"Blood divides what destiny cannot."
He traced the words slowly. "Blood… divides…"
His own reflection shimmered faintly in the cracked wall. For a moment, it wasn't his face—it was Gomi's.
He stumbled back, heart pounding.
Everything was connecting now: the curse marks, the bloodlines, the way the ruins responded to Gomi's presence—and his own. Cousins, tied by a betrayal older than memory.
He pressed a hand to his stomach. "If the past repeats itself… which one of us becomes the betrayer?"
The ruins didn't answer. But the wind that blew through them sounded almost like laughter—low, distant, and sad.
Dawn in the Pit
Back at the camp, Gomi finally drifted to sleep. Minagami and Hosogiri dozed near the embers, peaceful for once.
When morning came—a red, shimmering light instead of sunlight—the ruins seemed quieter. Almost gentle.
Minagami stirred, stretching. Gomi was already up, staring into the horizon of endless stone.
"Hey," she said softly. "You ready?"
He looked back at her, smirking. "I don't really have a choice anymore, do I?"
She smiled faintly. "No. You don't."
Hosogiri groaned awake. "Can we at least have breakfast before destiny starts again?"
Gomi chuckled. "Fine. But after that, we move. The Pit's not done with us."
Minagami's gaze turned distant. "It never is."
And as they packed their things, the red light above shifted—revealing a single word carved high into the cavern's wall, one none of them noticed yet:
"Family."
TO BE CONTINUED...