Kaito and Aoi walked side by side under the faint glow of the streetlights, the air between them thick with questions they dared not ask out loud. The night was quiet, almost unnaturally so. A gentle wind rustled through the leaves, but even that felt staged, like a fragile illusion. The sky above was calm—too calm. It felt wrong, like the world itself was holding its breath.
"It's right here," Aoi said, coming to a stop beside a graffitied wall in a back alley hidden behind a shuttered convenience store. The concrete was chipped and stained, worn down by time and neglect. But despite its decay, one mark stood out from the rest. He pointed to a strange symbol etched deep into the stone—an eerie, angular red star, unmistakably unnatural. Its edges shimmered faintly under the light.
Kaito's breath caught in his throat. There it was. The same symbol he'd seen in his dreams, in the corners of memories that didn't belong to him, and in every reset that brought him back to this cursed loop. Something that always stayed constant no matter how many times the loop began again.
"So it's real," Kaito whispered.
He stepped closer, heart pounding. His fingers hovered near the symbol, trembling with anticipation. "Can I touch it?"
Aoi hesitated, eyes narrowing. "I don't know, Kaito. That might not be safe. We don't know what this thing is."
Kaito glanced back at him, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. "Don't worry."
There was something in his voice—a softness, maybe even resignation. Aoi looked away, disturbed. Why does he look like he doesn't care if he dies?
Kaito reached out and placed his hand on the symbol. For a moment, nothing happened.
He turned to Aoi with a smirk. "See? I'm okay."
But then, the red lines of the star began to glow—a faint yellow pulse radiating from beneath Kaito's palm.
Aoi stepped back, eyes wide. "What the hell... it glows?!"
Kaito watched in fascination as the light shimmered, casting faint shadows against the wall. "It doesn't hurt. Just a warm light."
"That glow... it's the same color that appeared when I touched the glove," Aoi muttered.
"Try it," Kaito said. "Let's see what happens."
Aoi hesitated, staring at the pulsing mark. Then he took a slow breath and stepped forward. He touched the star.
A second pulse lit the air—another yellow glow, nearly identical to Kaito's.
"It glowed for me too," Aoi said, stepping back.
Kaito nodded slowly, thoughts racing. The assassin... his glow was different. Purple. That means...
Aoi continued, looking both excited and shaken. "It's the same reaction I had when I found the gloves. After I touched them, they lit up white. Just like this."
"Tell me everything you know about the gloves," Kaito said. His voice was calm, but his eyes burned with urgency.
Aoi glanced around the alley, as if making sure no one else was listening. "Alright. From what I've pieced together... the red star is a symbol. Some ancient mark tied to an organization that most people don't even believe exists. It usually means evil or danger. But the color it glows when touched? That tells a different story. Yellow, white—those mean resistance. Not evil."
Kaito stayed silent, letting the information sink in.
"The gloves," Aoi said, taking a deep breath, "those with the red star etched into them... they're worn by soldiers of something called the Two-Winged Devil. I don't know if it's a person or a concept, but from what I found, those who wear them are either brainwashed, recruited, or paid. They follow orders. Some willingly, some not. But once you wear it... you're marked."
Kaito's eyes darkened. Soldiers... that meant the assassin...
Aoi nodded as if reading his mind. "Yeah. He might not have been evil. Just following orders. Or maybe forced."
"What about the organization?" Kaito asked.
Aoi's jaw clenched. "They kill witnesses. Anyone who sees the gloves, the stars, or talks about it publicly. To keep it hidden. If they can't find you... they go after your family."
A chill ran down Kaito's spine.
The blood. The room. Aiko's eyes.
His fists clenched, shoulders trembling.
So it really was my fault.
His mind screamed with guilt, but he held it in.
"Kaito?" Aoi's voice cut through the haze. "Are you alright?"
Kaito forced a nod. "Yeah. Just... thinking. Is that all you know?"
Aoi looked uncertain. "That's all I have for now. I'm still researching. There's more, I know it. But it's buried deep. Whatever this organization is, they don't leave traces. They erase them."
Kaito extended his hand. "Thank you, Aoi. Really. For everything."
Aoi shook it, a small, genuine smile breaking through his usual guarded expression. "No problem. It's good to know someone else wants answers."
With that, Kaito turned and walked away, his steps slow but certain. The night air felt heavier now, like the world itself had shifted.
The glow of the star still danced behind his eyelids. But deeper than that, darker thoughts stirred.
Soldiers of the Two-Winged Devil.
Marked. Just like me.
By the time he reached Airi's house, the moon had risen high, casting silver light across the quiet neighborhood. He barely had time to knock before the door swung open.
Airi stood there, arms crossed, worry written plainly across her face.
"You took a long time," she said.
Kaito rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Got... sidetracked."
She squinted at him. "Did you find the cake?"
He blinked. "What? Oh. No, the store was closed."
She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Told you it would be."
Kaito scratched his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah. Should've listened."
But inside, his mind wasn't on chocolate cake.
It was on ancient symbols that glowed. On gloves that marked people as soldiers. On assassins who might have been victims themselves.
And most of all, it was on the resets.
Because Kaito knew something now, something undeniable.
The loop wasn't just about him.
It was connected to something far bigger.
A war in the shadows.
A world unraveling.
And the truth, buried in every death he lived through.
He glanced up at the sky. The stars looked back at him.
Unblinking.
Unforgiving.
He knew he was running out of time.
And this time, he couldn't afford to die again.