The morning after the battle was quiet.
Too quiet.
Ash clung to the trees like snow, and the air still smelled faintly of smoke. The ruined cabin sat behind them, half-collapsed and blackened by fire. Haruki stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at what used to be a safe place—now nothing more than broken wood and bad memories.
Ayame zipped up her bag without saying a word. Her face was calm, but her eyes were distant. Rin checked the edge of his blade, then slung it over his back. No one spoke for a long time.
Haruki finally broke the silence.
"So… where now?"
Rin glanced toward the mountain range in the distance. Mist curled around the peaks like old secrets.
"Kuroyama. If the shrine exists, it's there."
Ayame nodded. "It's the only lead we have. If your father really left something behind, we'll find it there."
Haruki looked down at the pendant hanging around his neck. It was warmer today, as if it sensed where they were going.
"Then let's go," he said.
They walked in silence, leaving behind the ashes of the cabin. The forest road was uneven, roots twisting out of the ground like the fingers of something long buried. Birds had returned, chirping lightly in the trees, but every crack of a branch or rustle of leaves made Haruki's heart jump.
"I keep thinking they'll come back," he muttered.
"They might," Rin said flatly. "But we'll be ready."
Haruki looked over at him. "How do you stay so calm?"
Rin shrugged. "I don't. I just keep moving."
Ayame glanced back. "We all do."
They walked for hours. The dirt path faded into rocks, and the slope began to climb. The trees grew taller, thicker, casting long shadows even in daylight. Somewhere up there, the shrine waited. And maybe answers.
Or more questions.
When they finally stopped to rest, Haruki sat on a boulder and pulled out the notebook he'd taken from the old chest. The one with his father's handwriting.
He flipped to a page marked with a symbol he'd seen on the scroll.
"Do you think he knew this would happen?" he asked quietly.
Ayame looked over. "Your father?"
Haruki nodded. "The letter… the pendant… it's like he planned this. Like he knew I'd follow."
Rin leaned against a tree. "If he did, he also knew it would be dangerous. Maybe that's why he stayed away."
Haruki didn't answer right away. He traced the symbol with his finger. It felt like trying to remember a dream just out of reach.
"I want to be angry," he said. "But I just… I miss him. And I want to know why he left."
Ayame sat beside him. "We'll find out. One step at a time."
The sun dipped lower in the sky. Shadows grew long, and the air turned colder. They packed up and kept walking, following a narrow trail that twisted higher into the mountains.
Around a bend, the trees opened up—and they stopped.
Ahead of them stood an old stone torii gate, half-covered in moss. Beyond it, a stairway rose into the mist, each step cracked and worn by time.
Rin stepped forward first. "We're close."
The pendant around Haruki's neck pulsed softly.
As they climbed the steps, the air grew heavier. Thicker. Like the mountain itself was holding its breath.
Halfway up, Haruki paused.
"Did you hear that?"
Ayame stopped. "What?"
He turned slowly, listening.
A faint rustling. Then silence.
Rin drew his blade. "We're being followed."
Before anyone could speak, three figures stepped out of the trees. Robes dark as soot, masks like bone.
Ashen Circle.
One of them raised a hand. "You weren't supposed to come this far."
Haruki stepped forward, fists clenched. "We're not stopping."
The masked figure tilted his head. "Then you've chosen your path."
A flash of steel—a dagger thrown fast and silent.
But before it could hit, flames burst from Haruki's hands, melting the weapon in mid-air. He didn't think—just moved. The fire didn't burn him. It flowed with him.
Ayame dashed forward, her twin blades slicing through the air. Rin followed, a blur of motion.
The fight was fast and brutal. The Ashen Circle moved like shadows, but Haruki moved with fire.
And this time, he wasn't afraid.
When the last masked figure vanished into the trees, wounded and retreating, Haruki stood breathing hard. The embers around his fists faded, and the pendant cooled.
Ayame wiped blood from her blade. "They're testing us."
Rin nodded. "Or warning us."
Haruki looked up at the final steps of the shrine.
"Let them. We're still going."
Together, they climbed the last stretch. At the top, the trees parted, revealing a small, ancient shrine built into the rock. A stone lantern flickered with a strange golden light, even though no flame burned inside it.
And in the center stood a round stone altar.
Just like in his dream.
Haruki stepped forward, heart pounding.
The pendant pulled him toward it, and when he placed it on the stone, the ground trembled slightly. The air shimmered. Something inside him—something old and waiting—opened.
The ember within burned brighter.
Ayame and Rin stood beside him, silent.
This was only the beginning.