The next morning brought haze to the skies of Aoritsu—fog clinging to rooftops and curling down the hills as if the world itself refused to wake. Yukiko stirred quietly, slipping from her blankets and finding Akuzai already gone.
He sat by Chrono Bloom again.
It wasn't supposed to pulse anymore. Not after it sealed the timeline. Not after he sealed himself away.
But there it was—faint, irregular beats in the petals. Almost like a second heartbeat.
And in that strange rhythm… a whisper that repeated in fragments:
> "...Echoes fall... Edge forgotten... Five not whole…"
Akuzai ran a hand through his hair, frustration simmering. He didn't want to believe the past was chasing him. Not again. But something underneath reality was shifting.
He returned to their small home in silence. Yukiko didn't press him. She never did. Instead, she brewed their morning tea and quietly packed two small bento boxes.
"Want to go into the east forest?" she asked, as if nothing had changed.
He nodded, grateful.
They walked beneath arching pines and knotted roots, the trail winding into a half-forgotten shrine once dedicated to the spirit of change. Cracked statues, overgrown moss. Akuzai didn't remember it being here last month.
Everything felt slightly… out of sync.
They sat on the stone steps, sharing their meal as the breeze stirred fallen leaves across the path.
"You're somewhere else again," Yukiko said gently.
"I'm not," he replied. "I'm just not here either."
She smiled. "That's the same thing."
Akuzai let the silence stretch.
Then, finally, he spoke. "The Bloom's waking. It's not a flare… it's a call."
Yukiko looked up sharply. "A call to who?"
"To me. To us. To what we were."
He turned to her, eyes quiet but heavy. "I think something's coming. And if it's tied to what we sealed, then I can't ignore it."
"Do you have to go?" she asked softly.
He didn't answer.
But the look in his eyes already had.
---
That night, Akuzai returned to the rooftop of their home.
The village lights below flickered warm and distant. The stars above seemed to hum with forgotten weight.
And he finally let himself think of them:
Aditya, the flame unyielding, always the first to charge.
Abhishek, calm and calculated, wielding pressure like an art.
Anuj, who gave everything and never asked for it back.
Tanishk, gone too early—yet somehow always felt close when they stood together.
And then…
Rivan.
He shut his eyes.
The wound still lived there.
Akuzai breathed deep and looked down at the Chrono Bloom again. It had grown brighter as the night deepened. Its pulse aligned with the stars.
"I need to find them," he whispered. "The others. The ones still standing."
Yukiko stepped out behind him, arms folded gently across her chest. "You're not going to find him, are you?"
"No." Akuzai shook his head. "I can't face Rivan. Not yet."
She nodded, stepping beside him. "Then start with the ones who remind you who you are."
He smiled faintly.
The past wasn't calling to haunt him.
It was calling to complete him.
He turned to Yukiko. "I'll go. I'll find them. Then I'll come back."
"You better," she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Aoritsu won't feel like Aoritsu without you."
He closed his eyes.
The journey was beginning again.
And this time—he wouldn't walk it alone.