Tōtsuki Resort Open Field – 6:30 P.M.
The wind was cleaner out here—salt from the coast brushed against the faint scent of mountain pines. The field stretched wide and unbroken, far enough from the main resort that even a misfired spell wouldn't risk breaking a window. Sanzaemon-dono had chosen well.
"This is the perfect spot for our fight," I said, scanning the open space before turning toward the group. "And sorry to waste your time, Satori-san."
Satori smiled faintly, her third eye glowing softly as if amused. "Don't be. The young Tsurumaki is about to experience her first danmaku battle. It's natural for the family head to be here. Girls, stand beside me and Orin. Riku, Kokoro—take your positions."
Rinko, Ran, Kaoru, and Chisato quietly made their way toward Satori and Orin, their expressions shifting between curiosity and concern. Kokoro and I stepped apart, putting a generous stretch of field between us. She floated her hands in front of her, energy already beginning to build around her frame—a faint golden aura threaded with pink sparkles. I exhaled once and let my lightning hum beneath my skin, just enough to keep the air charged.
Satori stepped forward, her voice calm but commanding.
"This danmaku battle will use a three–spell card format. Each of you will have three layers of barrier around you," she began, lifting her hand. "You may use any combination of offensive, defensive, or crowd-control spell cards. When a spell card hits you directly, one barrier will break and your opponent earns a point. If you completely dodge the pattern, you earn a point. If you only graze, no points for either side. All danmaku and spell cards are restricted to non-lethal output."
She let that sink in, her third eye briefly glowing brighter as if reading both our thoughts. "Victory will go to whoever shatters all their opponent's barriers first, or whoever has the most points once all spell cards are used. If tied, the fighter with the most barriers left wins. Are we clear?"
Kokoro and I answered in unison. "Hai!"
"Very well." Satori snapped her fingers. Three faint rings of light bloomed around each of us, hovering close before dissolving into invisibility—boundaries only we could sense. "Now... take flight. On my mark, the battle begins."
Magic gathered at my feet, a familiar static hum wrapping around my legs. I lifted from the ground, the earth shrinking below as the wind picked up speed. Beside me, Kokoro rose just as smoothly—her control steady, her movement graceful for a first-timer. She looked absolutely thrilled.
"I've always wanted to do this, onii-chan!" she called, the wind catching in her voice. "Let's have a great fight!"
"I could say the same to you," I replied, smirking. "You've got your battle intro ready, right?"
"Of course!" she grinned, eyes shining.
Below us, Ran shaded her eyes. "They're really high up."
"Good luck, Kokoro... and be careful," Kaoru murmured.
"They seem ready, Satori-san," Rinko noted, her voice low with anticipation.
Satori nodded. "Then let us begin." Her tone dropped into the ritual calm of a judge. "The danmaku battle between Nagae Riku and Tsurumaki Kokoro will now commence. Fighters—set!"
The air thickened as two magic circles burst into existence behind us—mine a storm of blue and silver arcs, hers a cascade of pink and gold stars.
Kokoro struck her pose first, eyes blazing with excitement.
"Happy! Lucky! Smile! YAY!!! Tsurumaki Kokoro sanjou!!!"
Her voice carried through the field like a bell. I couldn't help but grin behind the brim of my hat.
"So that's your battle intro... fitting." I tilted my head slightly as lightning began crawling across my arms and shoulders. "Then I'll answer in kind."
My tone hardened, my aura flashing white-blue. "Calamity will soon befall you. I hope you've come prepared."
Thunder cracked faintly overhead, the scent of ozone curling in the dusk air. Satori raised her hand, pausing for one last heartbeat to make sure both of us were ready.
"Ready..." Her third eye glowed like a lantern in the growing dark. "FIGHT!"
The moment the word left her lips, the field exploded with motion.
(Insert OST - Greenwich Debris)
Third POV
At Satori's signal, Riku moved first. Lightning flared across the air as his bullets scattered like a storm, streaking toward Kokoro in intricate, spiraling patterns. Each orb pulsed with his precision—measured, deliberate. Kokoro darted between them with uncanny timing, her instinct guiding her just ahead of the lethal arcs. Every shift of her body was music in motion, her rhythm too natural to be rehearsed.
But Riku had planned for that. He snapped his fingers. The bullets Kokoro had just dodged began to fracture midair, breaking apart into smaller projectiles that reversed direction.
"Whoa—!" Kokoro gasped, twisting in midair. Her twin hair ornaments flashed as she performed a backflip, her skirt sweeping a clean arc through the storm. The fragments narrowly grazed her as she found a gap and retaliated.
Two enormous light spheres appeared at her sides, their surfaces rippling with radiant energy. They began to fire in wide, rotating arcs, filling the air with a spiral of luminous bullets. The pattern bloomed outward like a rotating mandala—beautiful, but merciless.
Riku read the rhythm instantly. His movements sharpened, weaving between lines of light. Sparks kissed his sleeves as he brushed close to death again and again.
Kokoro's smile caught his eye—a flicker of confidence that froze his focus for a heartbeat. His instincts screamed. Without hesitation, he dove straight down just as three brilliant lasers slashed through the space he'd been occupying.
The beams burned through the afterimage of his descent, each one radiating from the smaller light orbs Kokoro had deployed around her.
Riku's expression tightened. She thought it through that far, huh?
Before he could counter, Kokoro raised her hand and called out—her voice bright and resolute:
"Light Sign: Purifying Circle!"
A spell card ignited before her, flooding the arena with gold. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the ground beneath Riku began to shimmer.
He barely had time to look down.
A pillar of light erupted from below, engulfing him completely. The shock cracked his barrier like glass.
From above, Satori's calm voice echoed through the air.
"That's two points to Kokoro."
The spectators gasped. Even for someone like Riku, that was a hit few could shrug off. Only a handful in Gensokyo could shatter multiple barriers with a single spell—Yuugi, Suika, Reimu, Marisa, Yukari, Yuyuko, and a few others. That Kokoro now stood among them spoke volumes.
Riku steadied himself midair, smoke rising from his shoulders. His eyes sharpened. If she'd shown that much growth, then he'd answer with equal force.
He drew a black spell card, lightning crawling along its edges, and spun his naginata in one hand.
"Thunder Sign: Origin of Thunder!"
A burst of electricity tore through the air. Twenty spectral naginatas materialized behind him, each one humming with raw current. At his command, they shot outward in a fan pattern. Two flew from Kokoro's three o'clock, another from directly ahead, the rest sweeping through unpredictable angles.
She twisted out of the first two, barely clearing the streaks of blue light—but several blades came from below, catching her barrier off guard. It shattered with a sharp, crystalline sound.
"One point to Riku," Satori announced evenly.
The score now stood 2–1 in Kokoro's favor.
Riku pressed the advantage. He circled her swiftly, launching a hail of bullets that converged from all directions, his precision overwhelming in both speed and density. But then—something shifted. The atmosphere around Kokoro darkened, her aura twisting into a deeper shade.
Riku's eyes narrowed. That presence wasn't hers.
"Shinzo," he muttered.
Dark mist coiled around Kokoro's body, shaping itself into shadowy arms that deflected Riku's bullets. A cold laugh followed.
Shinzo's voice emerged from within the darkness. "That was the plan from the start. Kokoro handles the first half—then I take the reins."
Riku smirked faintly. "So you're taking this one seriously, huh?"
Shinzo raised his hands, black sigils forming beneath him. "Phantom: Ravaging Claw!"
The sigils erupted, spawning countless dark claws that surged toward Riku like beasts. Their motion was chaotic—each claw moving with its own hunger, tearing at the air itself.
Riku tried to move, but a shadow circle beneath his feet dulled his reflexes. With a sharp motion, he loosened his scarf and sent it whipping around him, deflecting the nearest claws in a flurry of sparks. The remaining ones tore past, snapping at empty space as he vaulted clear of the attack zone.
"Tch," Shinzo clicked his tongue. "I thought I had you there."
Riku landed lightly, grinning. "You almost did. If they'd been any faster, I'd be toast."
"Riku dodged the spell. Point to him," Satori declared.
2–2. The score was even.
Riku reached for another spell card, its surface glowing violet. He raised it toward the sky, lightning crackling around his arm.
"Moon and Thunder: Celestial Rain!"
A single arrow of light formed from the card, merging lightning and moonlight into one blinding beam. He released it, sending it skyward—and from that shot, thousands of smaller arrows descended like divine punishment. Each was wrapped in electric light, slicing through the night with surgical precision.
Shinzo darted between them, his movements furious and exact. The darkness around him shielded Kokoro's exhausted form, protecting her as much as it could. Sparks illuminated the air with each near miss.
When the rain ceased, Kokoro hovered, breathing heavily, her posture faltering. The twin auras within her body flickered—Shinzo was straining to maintain control.
"No point is given to either," Satori concluded.
The air quieted briefly. Neither side had broken through. But the tempo was shifting.
Riku's next move came fast. He dashed toward Kokoro, pressing the attack before she could recover. Lightning flared along his arm as he produced another card, blue and silver in color.
"Fish Sign: Dragonfish Drill!"
The scarf around his neck snapped loose again, coiling around his right arm. It tightened, twisting faster and faster until it became a drill of crackling thunder.
Kokoro barely managed a startled "Eh—?" before Riku closed the gap.
The impact was devastating. The drill pierced through her remaining barrier with a thunderclap, lightning bursting outward in concentric rings. Kokoro's barrier shattered instantly, and the force sent her body hurtling downward.
"Ahhhhhhh!" her voice rang through the arena as she spiraled toward the ground.
Riku froze midair, realization flashing across his face. "Damn it—I used too much power!"
The explosion's aftershock dispersed, leaving a trail of faint smoke below. Satori raised her hand, her voice solemn but clear.
"The battle has been decided. Winner—Nagae Riku."
But Riku wasn't celebrating. He descended immediately, wind tearing past him as he dove toward the crater below. The others—Rinko, Orin, and the rest—followed closely behind, Satori included.
Riku's POV
Kokoro lay on the grass, eyes half-lidded as she stared at the darkening sky. The colors above were soft now, a blend of orange fading into violet, the last traces of battle-light still lingering in the air. Riku knelt beside her while Orin crouched a short distance away, checking her condition with that usual catlike sharpness.
"How is she?" Riku asked, still sounding half-guilty.
Orin's tail flicked once before she replied, "She's fine, nya~. No serious harm done at all. But..." Her gaze narrowed at him. "Certain parts of her body have bruises from your last spell. You used too much power on that drill. Don't tell me you forgot to hold back."
Riku exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I might've... forgotten." He looked at Kokoro again, watching her chest rise and fall steadily. "But I'm glad she's okay."
"I'll give her some ointment once we're back," Orin said, softening a little.
"Thanks," he murmured, his tone low.
He sat beside Kokoro, the grass cool against his palms. For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the distant hum of the wind and the faint chirp of evening insects. Then Kokoro smiled faintly, her voice quiet but clear.
"It kinda hurts that I lost," she admitted. "But I don't mind. I finally got to experience a danmaku battle... and it was against you."
Riku chuckled, shoulders relaxing. "I'm glad you're not sulking over it. And you did damn well. That conversion trick—turning your light bullets into lasers mid-pattern? That was genius."
Kokoro giggled softly, but it quickly faded when she saw the regret still on his face. "And don't apologize, onii-chan. It's okay. I can't really learn if I don't get hurt once in a while, right?"
He looked at her—really looked—and found her smiling without a trace of resentment. Just pure, unfiltered joy from the fight. That's what set her apart from most.
Footsteps approached from across the field, breaking the quiet. Riku turned to see Satori leading the others—Rinko, Chisato, Kaoru, Ran—all making their way toward the pair.
"Riku! Kokoro-chan!" Rinko called out, waving as she jogged over.
Riku raised a hand in greeting. "Yo. So... what'd you all think of our little light show?"
Chisato, still catching her breath, looked around the battered field. "Honestly? That was the first time I've ever seen a real danmaku battle. It was... mesmerizing. Like watching a festival of bullets instead of fireworks."
Ran nodded, a grin tugging at her lips. "To think Kokoro actually landed a hit on you."
"Yeah," Riku replied, smirking faintly. "My barrier usually breaks during the second phase. This was the first time it's gone down in the opening exchange. And the fact she managed to break two in one spell? That's no small feat. Only a handful of people in Gensokyo could pull that off."
Ran's ears perked slightly. "So... she's got the potential?"
"Pretty much," Riku said, glancing toward Kokoro, who was still smiling up at the sky. "But she'll need a lot more training if she wants to keep up. Raw instinct's great—but discipline's what turns it into power."
Kaoru stepped closer, her tone gentle. "Is she alright, though?"
Orin stood and brushed her hands together. "She's just tired. A few bruises, but nothing serious. That said—" she turned toward Kokoro, her tail swishing with authority—"you're not moving around too much for the next three days. Doctor's orders, nya~."
Kokoro sighed dramatically. "Okay."
Riku smirked. "That means no crazy stuff till you recover, alright?"
"Okay," she repeated, sticking her tongue out playfully.
Satori, who had been watching the exchange in silence, finally stepped forward. Her voice carried its usual calm authority, but there was a note of approval beneath it. "Well then, allow me to formally congratulate you both. Kokoro, for your impressive debut... and Riku, for your fifty-seventh consecutive victory."
Rinko's eyes widened. "Wait—fifty-seventh? You actually keep count?"
Satori nodded. "He must win one hundred consecutive matches before earning the right to challenge a family head. If I recall—"
Riku raised a hand with a wry smile. "—Forty-three more, and I get to throw down with one of them. Yeah. That's the rule."
Rinko blinked. "That's... a thing?"
"Yup," Riku replied simply. "But that's a story for another day."
He crouched, letting Kokoro climb carefully onto his back. She yawned and looped her arms loosely around his shoulders, her energy finally giving out. Once she settled, Riku rose to his feet, straightening his hat.
"Alright," he said, his tone light again. "Let's head back and grab something to eat. Danmaku battles burn through your energy fast."
"That's a good idea and all," Rinko said, pointing at the scene behind them, "but... what about this?"
Everyone turned to look at the field. Craters. Dozens of them. The once-green meadow was now a war zone of shattered earth and singed grass.
Chisato blinked. "Do danmaku battles always end like this?"
"Pretty much," Satori replied dryly, brushing a bit of dust off her sleeve. "Though not all. Depends on who's fighting." She snapped her fingers.
A massive red magic circle bloomed beneath her feet, pulsing with quiet precision. Slowly, the cracks in the earth began to mend. The air shimmered as grass regrew in waves, filling the scars of battle with green once again. Within seconds, the field looked untouched—as if no duel had ever taken place.
Everyone stood silent for a moment, watching the magic unfold. Even Riku—who'd seen his fair share of miracles—found it oddly comforting.
When the last trace of the circle vanished, Satori brushed her hands together and gave a small, satisfied nod. "There. Good as new."
"...That was so cool," Ran muttered under her breath, earning a laugh from Rinko.
Satori adjusted her hat, turning to the group with her usual serene expression. "Now, if you'll excuse me, that little restoration spell took quite a bit out of me. Let's go eat before I pass out from hunger."
Without waiting for a response, she started walking toward the resort, her coat swaying gently behind her.
The others followed, laughter rippling through the evening air. Kokoro, resting quietly on Riku's back, tilted her head just enough to see the field one last time. The place where she'd stood, fought, and fallen now looked peaceful—like it was waiting for the next story to unfold.
"Hey, onii-chan..." she murmured softly.
"Hm?"
"Thanks... for the fight."
Riku smiled to himself, not breaking stride. "You earned it."
As they made their way back under the soft wash of twilight, the sounds of battle faded completely, replaced by the simple harmony of voices, laughter, and footsteps returning home. The field behind them stayed quiet—its surface calm, its memory alive.
----------
Tōtsuki Resort – Gin's Office – 8:45 P.M.
After the storm of spell cards and bullets that lit up the field earlier that day, the night at Tōtsuki Resort felt calmer. Dinner had gone by in easy laughter—at least until a few eager guests recognized Riku from his musical career and descended on him for autographs. He signed each with the practiced patience of someone used to crowds, even tossing a few casual smiles that made the girls laugh. When all was done, he excused himself, mentioning a late appointment with the director. He told Kaoru and Chisato to keep an eye on Kokoro, who was still sore and forbidden by Orin to move too much.
Now, hours later, Riku sat in Gin's office, a small plate of strawberry shortcake in hand, one leg crossed over the other. Gin himself stood by the window with his usual composed air, sipping tea while Sanzaemon commandeered his desk like it belonged to him. The silence between them was comfortable—three men who understood the rhythm of waiting.
The clock ticked toward nine. Then, a knock.
The door opened, and in stepped Soma Yukihira, hands in pockets, looking like he'd walked into the wrong classroom.
"Eto... I was told I had to come here. Looks like you've got another gue—"
"No," Sanzaemon interrupted, his voice steady. "We called you here because this meeting concerns you as well."
Soma blinked but shrugged and took a seat beside Riku.
"So, who else are we waiting for?"
"Three more," Riku replied, placing his fork down. "They'll be here soon enough."
Right on cue, the door opened again. Erina and Alice Nakiri stepped inside, both neatly dressed but visibly unsure of what this late-night gathering was about.
"Yo, Nakiri-tachi," Soma greeted with a grin.
"Yukihira-kun?!" Erina's eyes widened. "What are you doing here?"
Alice tilted her head. "Yeah, what gives? I thought this was a family matter."
"Well," Soma said, leaning back, "your grandpa called me. Said this has something to do with me too."
Riku's tone softened. "And you came just in time. We're waiting for one more person... hopefully, he makes it."
Erina frowned slightly. "He? Is he someone you know, Nii-sama?"
Gin set his cup down, the porcelain clinking softly. "Not just Riku. You and Yukihira know this man quite well."
The room fell quiet. Only the hum of the air conditioner filled the pause. A knock soon followed, deliberate and unhurried.
Riku smirked. "Right on schedule."
The door swung open—and there stood Joichiro Yukihira, hands in his pockets, casual as ever. His travel coat hung open, a faint scent of smoke and distant roads trailing after him.
"You've come just in time, Joichiro," Sanzaemon said. "I half-expected you to show up late."
Joichiro chuckled. "My search got cut short. Guess I had some time to spare." His eyes found Soma, and he smiled easily. "Yo, Soma. Oh, and Erina-chan's here too."
Soma blinked. "Oyaji? What the hell are you doing here?"
Erina froze. "S-Saiba-sama...?"
Soma looked between them, brow furrowing. "Saiba?"
Joichiro raised his hands in mock surrender. "Ah, I go by Yukihira now, Erina-chan."
The realization hit her like cold water. Her gaze bounced between father and son—back and forth—her lips moving without sound. "Yukihira... then that means..."
Alice blinked. "Erina?"
But Erina wasn't listening. Her whole worldview had just buckled under one surname.
Riku sighed, placing his fork aside. "Alright, I think we're gonna need an explanation before someone short-circuits."
Joichiro scratched his cheek, amused. "Guess so. Normally, I'd tell Soma this once he was back at the academy, but... this works."
One long explanation later.
Soma sat slumped in his chair, his face blank with disbelief. "So, lemme get this straight. You're a Tōtsuki alum, a Polar Star old boy, and the second seat in the Elite Ten back in your day?" He leaned back, groaning. "That's too much to swallow, even for me."
In the corner, Erina looked equally dazed, her mind replaying every insult, every arrogant dismissal she'd ever thrown at Soma. "Yukihira-kun is... Saiba-sama's son... and everything I said to him..."
She trailed off, voice almost a whisper.
Riku smirked. "Guess the information overload hit hard."
Gin chuckled quietly. "Joichiro really didn't ease them into it, huh?"
Alice, meanwhile, leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So you were part of the Elite Ten! That explains Yukihira-kun's... creative tendencies in the kitchen."
Joichiro waved it off. "I just taught him the basics. The rest's all him."
Soma grumbled. "Oi, Oyaji, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
Joichiro shrugged, tone infuriatingly casual. "Well, you never asked."
Soma scowled. "Touché." Then, with that usual teasing glint in his eye, he jabbed a thumb toward Erina. "So, Nakiri, you had a thing for my old man, huh?"
"W-What?! I did not!" Erina's face turned scarlet. "You— you idiot!"
Joichiro chuckled. "They're getting along better than I thought."
Riku deadpanned. "Getting along? Feels more like verbal warfare."
Sanzaemon cleared his throat, silencing the banter. "If we're done comparing family trees, let's move on to why we're all here."
Riku nodded and stood. With a snap of his fingers, a deep violet aura rippled through the room, blanketing the air like a quiet storm. The lights dimmed for a moment before settling again.
Soma blinked. "What was that?"
"Safety precaution," Riku said calmly. "Prevents anyone from eavesdropping—magically or otherwise."
Erina's brows furrowed. "Nii-sama... what was that magic?"
"I'll explain later," he assured. "For now, listen."
The easy air in the room dissolved. Riku's tone turned coldly professional as he recounted everything—seeing Azami in Stockholm, the whispers from his informants that something was brewing in Japan, and the implication that Azami Nakiri was moving again.
Soma leaned forward, his face hard to read, but Erina... she froze. The color drained from her cheeks.
"N-no... it can't be," she whispered. Her hands trembled. "He's coming back?"
Alice quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, hey—it's alright, Erina. We're here, okay? Uncle Azami won't lay a hand on you. I— no, we promise."
Erina clung to her cousin's hand like an anchor, trying to breathe past the panic that had crept up her throat. The warmth of Alice's hand kept her grounded, but barely.
Soma frowned, looking from the two girls to his father. "Oyaji... what's going on with her?"
Joichiro's usual easy tone faded. "This has somethin' to do with her past," he said quietly. "And I'm not the right one to tell it."
Sanzaemon looked to him, then nodded. "You have my permission, Joichiro. But... allow me to begin."
And so the old man spoke.
He laid it all out—Azami's tyranny over Tōtsuki, Erina's childhood under his cruel ideology. He spoke of the so-called "God Tongue" that had been both a blessing and a curse, the isolation, the fear. Joichiro filled in the rest, recounting his own history with Azami, his blind obsession on Joichiro, and the fallout that followed.
The room had gone still after Sanzaemon and Joichiro's stories. The past had spilled out like a heavy meal—dense, layered, impossible to digest in one sitting. Gin leaned against the desk, quietly refilling Sanzaemon's tea while Riku leaned back on the sofa, arms crossed, watching the younger ones absorb everything.
Soma sat there, elbows on his knees, head down like he was lost somewhere in the mess of history and family names. Across from him, Erina had finally calmed down; the tremor in her hands had eased, her posture straightening as she listened. Alice stayed by her side, quiet but alert, her eyes flicking between her cousin and the others.
Then Riku spoke, his tone even. "Now that you know everything... what are you going to do?"
For a moment, no one answered. Then Soma lifted his head. The joking gleam that usually danced in his eyes was gone—replaced with something steady, almost cold.
"Ya know..." he began, leaning back in his chair, "...after everything you just told me..."
He looked up at Riku, Joichiro, and the others in turn.
"...I don't care."
The words hit the room like a slap. Even Riku's expression flickered. Alice straightened, ready to scold him, but Riku raised a hand slightly, stopping her. Erina tugged at Alice's sleeve, shaking her head.
Soma didn't waver. "I get that a lot of crap happened with Nakiri's pops and Oyaji's past with Tōtsuki," he said plainly. "But what I gotta do hasn't changed."
He pointed at Erina, not as a challenge, but like he was reaffirming a promise. "She said it was terrible. That's enough for me to know she's got her own demons. But that's not my fight. All I want—" his mouth curved into that familiar, fearless grin, "—is for her to say my food is good. That's all."
It was such a simple answer. So Soma.
The older men couldn't help but smile. Gin's chuckle was quiet, Sanzaemon's proud, Joichiro's weary but fond. Erina's cheeks burned a faint red as she looked down, torn between embarrassment and something warmer.
Sanzaemon's thoughts wandered briefly, "You were right, Joichiro. If anyone can reach her—it's your son, and his generation."
Joichiro hid a knowing grin behind his hand. "Looks like you've found the one, Soma. All that's left is for you to realize it."
And Riku, watching it all unfold, thought silently, "Even after hearing all that heavy shit, you still stand unshaken... Yukihira Soma, you never fail to impress."
Soma stood, brushing his hands on his apron as he walked toward Erina. He stopped just a step away, holding his hand out toward her. "So... if you're up for it, let's bury the hatchet. Start over. Aside from Alice and Arato, maybe we can actually be friends this time."
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Erina stared at him—eyes wide, lips parting. Normally, Soma would've been teasing, cocky, ready with a smirk. But right now, there was no hint of arrogance. Just honesty.
Slowly, she reached out and took his hand. Her grip was hesitant, then firm. "I... I would like that, Soma-kun," she murmured, her tone softer than anyone had ever heard from her. "You can... call me Erina."
Soma's smile widened. "If you say so, Erina."
The way he said her name made her blush deeper. Across the room, Joichiro and Alice shared identical smug looks. Riku rolled his eyes faintly but couldn't hide the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I'm glad you two made up," Riku said, standing. "But before we all get comfortable—there's something else. And you might not like it."
Sanzaemon's expression hardened. "Judging by your tone... it's bad."
Riku nodded. "Yeah. It's bad."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded envelope—the one Kokoro had given him earlier. Its seal was still broken from when he'd first read it. "Before you open it," he said, handing it to Sanzaemon, "just... brace yourself."
Sanzaemon said nothing, only gave a slow nod before carefully opening the letter. As his eyes scanned the contents, the room seemed to grow colder. Then, without warning, his hand slammed down on the desk with enough force to crack it down the middle.
The air around him flared with a suffocating pressure.
"Unforgivable..." he growled through clenched teeth, voice trembling with rage. Then he roared—"AZAMI!"
The outburst made Erina flinch. "Ojii-sama!?"
Alice stood quickly, alarmed. "What did the letter say, Riku-nii-sama?"
Riku sighed, rubbing his temple. "Nakiri Azami has... aligned himself with the Noirs."
Silence. Pure, heavy silence.
Joichiro's expression shifted first—from disbelief to fury. In two steps, he had Riku by the collar, yanking him forward. "Don't fuck with me, Riku! Azami might be a twisted bastard, but he wouldn't stoop that low! Not him!"
The sudden heat of his anger filled the room. Gin tensed but didn't move; even he hadn't seen Joichiro like this in years.
"Oyaji!" Soma barked, moving to intervene.
Riku raised a hand. "Don't. Let me explain."
He met Joichiro's furious gaze, voice calm but firm. "I wanted to say no too. But it's true. This was delivered to me by my messenger hawk not long ago. I sent Ran-san to verify it—the Yakumo syndicate's got records showing Noirs have been working in the underground lately. And guess whose name turned up in their ledgers."
Joichiro's grip loosened. His anger faltered, replaced by the grim weight of disbelief.
Soma scratched his head, half out of confusion, half frustration. "Okay, hold up—I might sound dumb asking this, but... who the hell are the Noirs?"
Riku's gaze softened slightly. "It's not dumb at all. You weren't supposed to know about them yet." He straightened. "The Noirs are the shadow of the culinary world. Cooks who've abandoned tradition and ethics alike. They operate in the underground—serving the Mafia, Yakuza, black market elites. They'll cook anything, with anything. Techniques, ingredients, even... people."
That last word hung in the air like poison.
Alice's face paled. "That's—disgusting."
Riku nodded grimly. "It is. And if Azami's chosen to stand among them, it's not just Tōtsuki that's in danger. His name still carries weight. If the world learns that Nakiri Azami, is now one of them—it'll destroy the academy's reputation. Maybe even the entire Japanese culinary world."
Sanzaemon's fists tightened. "Then the question becomes—why? What could possibly drive him to align with them?"
"I don't know yet," Riku replied. "But my people are working on it. I told them to dig until they find the root of it."
Sanzaemon turned to him sharply. "Are your people trustworthy?"
Riku gave a faint smirk. "They'd better be. No one dares cross the Nagae and live to tell the tale. If they betray us..." He left the sentence unfinished, but the chill in his voice said enough.
The old man exhaled heavily, rubbing his brow. "Then we have little choice. We'll need to accelerate our internal plans. The students will have to be tested sooner than expected—it's the only way to strengthen Tōtsuki before any public fallout."
Riku folded his arms. "Just don't overdo it. We can only ease part of the workload for you, not all of it. Remember, I've got my own projects running, and one of them's massive."
Sanzaemon's tone softened a fraction. "Understood. But speaking of projects..." He turned his gaze back to Riku. "It's your turn to explain."
Riku blinked. "Ah. That."
Everyone's eyes shifted to him now—Soma, Erina, Alice, even Gin, who quietly raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Riku said, scratching the back of his neck. "Might as well, since we're still breathing and all. Sit down, you three."
They obeyed, curiosity flickering between them.
"What I'm about to tell you," Riku continued, his tone shifting into something colder, heavier, "doesn't leave this room. Understand?"
They nodded.
He took a breath, then began to explain.
9:30 P.M.
The room was thick with silence after Riku finished speaking. What he had revealed wasn't something ordinary minds could swallow easily. Soma, Erina, and Alice sat frozen in their seats, wide-eyed and speechless, their expressions a blend of disbelief and awe.
Soma broke the silence first, scratching the back of his head with a baffled look.
"So... let me get this straight. You're a youkai, right?"
Riku chuckled under his breath, not mocking—just amused by Soma's bluntness.
"I am. But don't forget, I'm still part human."
Alice leaned forward, her curiosity outweighing her shock. "I find it hard to believe... To think that magic actually exists."
"Magic's been around long before science caught up," Riku said simply. "You just never noticed because you look at the world through formulas and data."
Alice crossed her arms, half-grinning, half-skeptical. "Guess that's fair. Still, it's a lot to take in."
Erina's voice was quieter, tinged with something closer to hurt than surprise. "But why keep this from us? Ojii-sama, Chef Dōjima, and Saiba-sama knew all along, yet we were kept in the dark..."
Sanzaemon answered before Riku could. His tone carried the weight of decades of experience.
"It's not because he didn't want to tell you. You simply weren't ready to understand back then."
Riku looked down briefly, then back at Erina with a faint, knowing smile. "He's right. Some truths hit harder when learned too soon."
Alice rested her chin on her hand. "So who else knows you're a youkai?"
"Plenty," Riku replied. "But don't worry—they're loyal. Tight-lipped, every one of them. What matters now is that the three of you know, which means the Nakiri and Yukihira families fall under the Nagae's protection from this day on."
That got a simultaneous reaction.
Erina, Alice, and Soma: "What!?"
Joichirō smiled faintly, almost nostalgic. "It's true. Since you've been entrusted with Riku's identity, our families are now under his clan's protection. That also means if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to him."
"I won't always be there to hold your hand," Riku added, "but I'll help however I can."
He turned to Soma. "You still have the card I gave you this morning?"
Soma nodded, pulling it from his pocket. The gold-trimmed emblem gleamed faintly under the light.
"Present that at any food market owned by the Nagae family," Riku said. "They'll prioritize your needs—and you'll get a seventy percent discount. Whatever ingredients you want, just ask. They'll provide."
Soma's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Wait, this card has that kind of power?!"
Gin, arms crossed and smiling faintly, decided to elaborate.
"You might not know this, Soma, but the Nagae family owns about seventy percent of Japan's food markets—and several branches overseas. They've also been supplying Tōtsuki's ingredients for years."
That one hit like a bomb. Soma blinked several times, as if his brain needed to reboot. He looked down at the card again, gripping it like a treasure. Losing it was now officially out of the question.
Before anyone could say more, Riku's phone buzzed. He checked it and saw a message from Johan. A summons—urgent, judging by the tone.
"I'd like to keep this talk going," Riku said as he slid the phone back into his pocket, "but something's come up. I need to take care of it."
Sanzaemon nodded knowingly. "Ah, yes. You have a performance tomorrow. Go on, then. I'm looking forward to seeing you play—and watching you silence those who doubt."
Riku smirked faintly. "That's the plan."
Joichirō perked up at that. "Wait—Riku's performing?" He glanced at Sanzaemon, already grinning. "Then I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay and watch. Haven't seen him play since his younger days."
Gin raised a brow. "What about your search?"
Joichirō shrugged. "Hit a dead end for now. Might as well relax here a bit. Besides, this gives me time to see if my son's actually improved."
That last line made Soma flinch. The usual fire in his eyes sparked, but he didn't rise to the bait. Not tonight.
Riku noticed and couldn't help a smirk. "Then I'll expect to see you all there tomorrow."
He gave a casual wave as he left the room, the door clicking softly behind him.
As his footsteps faded down the corridor, the tension in the air loosened. Erina exhaled slowly, sinking into her seat. "I still can't believe it... Youkai, magic, underground societies... And yet, he talks like it's just another day."
Alice laughed under her breath. "That's Riku for you. The guy treats the impossible like an errand run."
Soma looked at the door Riku had just exited through, expression unreadable. "Guess the world's a lot bigger than I thought."
Joichirō placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You'll see more of it soon enough."
Outside, Riku walked down the quiet hallway toward OG's room, the faint hum of night lamps trailing him. He slid his hands into his pockets, eyes narrowing as he thought back on the conversation.
Everything was falling into motion—too fast, maybe—but necessary. Tomorrow's performance would set the tone for what came next. And somewhere, beneath the easy grin he wore for others, a different kind of resolve burned in his chest.
Tonight, the world of chefs had glimpsed a shadow of the supernatural.
Tomorrow, it would hear his thunder.
9:45 P.M. – Tōtsuki Resort, 8th Floor – OG's Room
When Riku stepped into OG's suite, the air was alive with noise. Controllers clicked, laughter bounced off the walls, and the unmistakable sounds of TEKKEN echoed through the living area. Johan and the others were huddled around the TV, locked in combat, until they noticed Riku standing at the doorway. The room fell quiet—too quiet for that group—and all eyes turned toward him.
Misha was the first to speak, his usual calmness replaced with hesitant excitement.
"Riku, can you teach me how to be a DJ?"
Riku blinked, halfway to setting his bag down. "Where did that come from?"
Johan leaned forward on the couch, controller hanging loosely in his hand. "He's been thinking about it for a while. Says the band needs more flexibility with roles. We can't keep relying on Bozhidar, Ammar, and Artem to switch setups every time we change the setlist."
Riku crossed his arms, glancing at Misha, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "So, the bassist wants to spin tracks now. Ambitious."
"It's not just that," Johan added. "He wants to help expand the band's sound. More possibilities, fewer limits."
Riku nodded slowly. Misha was the type who liked steady progress over sudden bursts. If he wanted to take up something new, he'd commit to it—but only if someone could teach him right. Riku had some experience himself, back from TI9—the International, when OG had taken the world stage. A thought formed as he looked between them. Someone might just help make this work... if he could convince them.
"Hm..." Riku said after a moment, tapping his chin. "How long are you guys staying here in Japan?"
"Until June third," Johan replied. "Juan and Allen are already handling our lodgings in Madrid for the tour after that."
"That gives me a bit of time to work something out," Riku muttered, half to himself.
Johan caught the tone and raised a brow. "So? You'll help him?"
"I can," Riku said, "but I'll need to make a few calls first."
Misha's eyes widened. "Seriously? Thanks, Riku. I owe you big time."
"If you really want to pay me back," Riku replied dryly, "then make sure you guys at least hit top three at TI this year."
Misha gave a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head again. "I'll... try. But don't expect miracles."
"Just don't expect excuses either," Riku countered.
The room broke into laughter, and Johan leaned forward again, smirking. "Now that that's settled, how about a quick game, Riku?"
Riku sighed. "You do realize I have a—"
"Oh, don't tell me you're chickening out," Johan interrupted, that signature grin of his widening.
Riku's eyebrow twitched. "You dare challenge me?"
"Damn right I do. So? You in or not?"
He didn't need to be asked twice. Riku snatched up a controller and dropped onto the sofa beside him. "Let's do this."
One ass-beating later...
Tōtsuki Resort - Riku's Room - 11:30 P.M.
Two hours. That's how long it took for Riku to utterly destroy the entire OG lineup in TEKKEN, using nothing but Panda. Johan's cocky grin had evaporated after the third match, and by the end, they were all slumped across the couches, speechless. Riku left them there, victorious and smug, as he made his way down the hall toward his own room.
While walking, he called Dennojo to check if the old man was still awake—and, surprisingly, he was. Riku explained Misha's request, sparing him the long version. To his relief, Dennojo didn't just agree; he seemed amused by the idea. The only condition? Let his granddaughter and her friends perform at CiRCLE. Riku accepted without hesitation. The deal was set—Misha would start his DJ lessons Monday at 4:00 p.m.
By the time Riku reached his door, the hallway was dead quiet. He slipped his keycard into the slot and pushed the door open. The lights were dim, soft lamplight spilling over the furniture. Everyone else must've turned in already.
Then he froze.
Someone was lying in his bed.
His instincts flared—then relaxed when he recognized the familiar figure. Rinko.
Her breathing was slow, peaceful. The blanket had half-fallen off her shoulder, and she looked far too comfortable to be disturbed. Riku sighed quietly and shook his head. "Figures..."
He crouched beside the bed and tried to nudge her awake. No response. He tried again—nothing. Rinko didn't even twitch. Finally, Riku just groaned under his breath and gave up. "Fine. Stay there, you little troublemaker."
He grabbed his laptop from his bag and moved to the desk instead, letting her sleep.
When the screen flickered to life, a flood of unread messages filled his inbox. The first name that caught his eye was Hatate. He clicked open the email, skimming through the attached files. It was the financial report for CiRCLE's May operations—a full breakdown of expenses, income, and maintenance costs.
Before handing CiRCLE to him, his grandfather had promised to shoulder the venue's operating expenses for the rest of the year. After that, though, Riku would be fully responsible. Seeing the numbers now, he couldn't help but whistle softly under his breath.
Two hundred fifty thousand dollars. That was the monthly cost.
"Good thing I signed that lifetime contract..." he muttered. "Or I'd be broke by next week."
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. CiRCLE was worth every yen, but managing it on top of everything else—band work, school matters, his own duties—was no small feat.
Scrolling further down, he found another email—this one from Chu2.
He opened it and read through the contents carefully. The girl never wasted words.
They had successfully secured a sponsorship deal with Monster Energy—four years, eighty million dollars. That was twenty million more than Roselia's last contract. Not bad for a bunch of young upstarts with something to prove.
And it didn't stop there. Another deal had been made with Alien Tech, an American company specializing in high-end DJ equipment. With their support, CiRCLE's tech base would be among the best in Asia.
Riku's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. "You're growing faster than I thought, Chu2..."
He dismissed the email, then navigated through his folders until he found the one he'd been looking for.
The laptop screen glowed faintly in the dim light of Riku's room, the only sound a quiet hum from the ceiling fan above. On the display sat a folder labeled Lost Word Project. When he opened it, thirteen files waited inside, each neatly numbered, each one a memory he could not quite explain.
Lost Word Project
Riku opened the folder and 13 files are inside and those files were music sheets and lyric sheets.
The Heat of My Fingertips - Remilia Scarlet
Sporadically Margaret - Alice Margatroid
The Moon and Izayoi - Izayoi Sakuya
Silver Gale - Fujiwara no Mokou
NARAKA - Komeiji Satori
Blue Goodbyes - Yasaka Kanako
Disillusion - Konpaku Youmu
I'm Alright! - Flandre Scarlet
Night-Splitting Light - Kirisame Marisa
Moonlit Festival! - Houraisan Kaguya and Inaba Udongein Reisen
Hand in Hand with a Miracle - Kochiya Sanae
Karma Speed - Hakurei Reimu
Boundary of Time - Saigyouji Yuyuko
Thirteen songs. Thirteen dreams.
Riku leaned back in his chair, staring at the list. He had written them all, but none of them came from imagination alone. Each piece was born from a dream—strange, vivid, and far too real. They began when he was sixteen. Girls he knew, friends and rivals alike, stripped of memory and power, lost in worlds that didn't make sense. At first, he had dismissed the dreams as random noise, some aftereffect of his mixed blood and stress. But they lingered. They clawed at him until he couldn't ignore them anymore.
So, he wrote.
And the dreams stopped.
For a while.
Then came new ones—different scenes, different cries for help. When he shared them with the girls, none had believed him, not until Doremy herself stepped into his mind. The dream demon had confirmed it: what he saw was real, at least in some form. Yukari had advised him to keep a record of them, to let her know if more came. He did. Year after year, song after song.
Thirteen now, though not all complete.
He remembered the last dream clearly. March. The silence since then unsettled him.
He exhaled slowly and clicked open Boundary of Time. The melody filled the room, soft at first, then spiraling into something vast and weighty. He made a few final tweaks, adjusting levels, layering the strings beneath Yuyuko's refrain until the track pulsed with quiet melancholy. Each sound felt alive—too alive. He listened once, twice, then saved and closed everything down.
Silence returned.
Across the room, the bed was occupied. Rinko lay curled beneath the duvet, her breathing soft and even. He hadn't expected to find her there, much less asleep in his bed.
He stared for a long moment. "Now this is a pickle..." he muttered under his breath. "How the hell am I gonna do this? You know what—let's just go with the flow. Excuse me..."
He lifted the blanket just enough to slip in quietly—but froze.
The faint light from his laptop caught the curve of black silk. Rinko was wearing a semi-transparent negligee, sheer fabric tracing the lines of her body. His mind went blank for a moment, his throat tightening as his half-youkai senses betrayed him. The shape of her chest, the soft rise and fall of her breathing—it was too much, too close. He slammed the duvet back down as if burned.
His face flushed deep crimson. "Rinko... how bold of you to wear that," he whispered hoarsely. "But... damn, I guess I've got no choice. Any more of that and I might actually lose it."
He let out a rough sigh, waited until his pulse slowed, and tried again—careful, measured this time. He slipped beneath the covers with quiet precision, ensuring she didn't stir. Once settled, he found himself staring at her face in the dark.
Even asleep, she was striking. The faint lamplight brushed over her hair, the silver threads catching hints of violet. Her expression was peaceful, almost childlike—so unlike the strong, unshakable woman he knew in daylight.
He felt the weight of exhaustion start to pull him under, but he stayed awake a while longer, simply watching her breathe.
"Even asleep," he murmured softly, "you still look beautiful... good night, my dear."
His hand moved almost of its own accord, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Then he leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to her forehead—gentle, reverent. She stirred faintly but didn't wake.
He smiled at that. For a moment, the air felt still. The noise of the world—duties, meetings, expectations—faded until only the steady rhythm of her breathing filled the room. It wasn't often he allowed himself to rest, to drop the weight of everything he carried. Tonight, though, he let it go.
His eyes drifted shut. The hum of the fan blurred into the edge of sleep, and soon enough, the two of them lay motionless in the dark—one dreamer finally finding quiet, the other perhaps already lost in dreams of her own.
Meanwhile in an unknown location
3rd POV
The forest was silent except for the frantic rhythm of two pairs of feet crashing through the underbrush. Shadows stretched long beneath the moonlight, twisting between trees as if the night itself pursued them. A woman in her early thirties led the way, her violet cloak torn and dirt-streaked. Behind her stumbled a girl barely fifteen, gasping for breath.
Ursula and Nino—what remained of the Black Fang.
They had been running for hours, through riverbeds and ravines, past the burned ruins of what was once their refuge. The world they knew had crumbled behind them.
Nino leaned against a tree, clutching her side as she tried to breathe. "Pant... pant... Do you think... we lost them?"
Ursula paused, closing her eyes. For a moment, the forest held still. Then she exhaled and nodded. "My scout has just returned. It seems they've turned back. We're safe... for now."
Her words carried the steadiness of someone used to leading through chaos, but her voice trembled at the edges. She was exhausted too, though she hid it well.
Nino slid down against the tree trunk, tears welling. "I don't understand... what did we do to deserve this? We only wanted to protect people, to make things right... and yet..."
Her voice broke, and the rest dissolved into quiet sobs.
Ursula knelt beside her, pulling the girl into her arms. "Everything's okay, Nino..." she murmured, though her tone betrayed her doubt.
"But it's not," Nino choked out. "Father... Lloyd and Linus... they gave their lives so we could escape. And Jaffar—"
"Don't," Ursula said quickly, holding her tighter. "Don't finish that sentence."
Her eyes hardened. "You know how strong Jaffar is. If anyone can survive, it's him. And I will not die either, Nino. I promise you that."
The girl trembled against her shoulder, clinging to that promise as though it were the only thing anchoring her to the world.
"Try to rest," Ursula whispered, brushing a strand of green hair from Nino's face. "Once you've recovered, we'll keep moving. There's a village past the ridge—"
Her voice stopped short. Every instinct screamed danger.
"Behind me. Now!"
Nino obeyed instantly, ducking behind her mentor. The air shimmered before them, rippling like disturbed water. A doorway—oval, lined with two elegant ribbons—unfolded out of the empty air. Dozens of eyes blinked open along its surface, scanning the world around it in slow, eerie unison.
From that unnatural gate stepped a woman dressed in pale lavender, her long blond hair flowing like silk. Her smile was gentle, but her presence distorted the air itself.
Ursula's blood ran cold. "Y-Y-You... what are you doing here... Yakumo Yukari?!"
Yukari's lips curved into a sly, amused smile. The fan in her hand opened with a soft snap. "No need to do anything drastic," she said smoothly.
"Like hell I'll believe that," Ursula hissed, moving her hand toward her tome. "What would the Elder Sage of the East want with us?"
A single eyebrow twitched. Yukari hid her mouth behind her fan, pretending not to hear the "elder" part. "I will ignore that," she said sweetly. "And as to why I'm here—quite simple, really. I came to offer you help."
Nino blinked, momentarily hopeful. "Really? Then—"
"Not yet, Nino," Ursula cut her off sharply. Her eyes stayed fixed on the blonde woman. "The person we're talking to is Yakumo Yukari. One of the most cunning beings alive. If she's offering help, there's a price attached."
Yukari chuckled behind her fan, her laughter a soft and unsettling melody. "Ufufufufu~ You're as cautious as ever, Ursula. Good. I do appreciate a sharp mind."
She took a step forward, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "You're right, of course. I intend to help you—but I want something in return."
Ursula straightened. "So you want us to be your errand girls?" she said dryly. "Could be worse. We're already fugitives. What's the job?"
Yukari's smile deepened. The forest seemed to bend subtly around her, the moonlight itself dimming as though listening.
"You two are to head to Japan," she said simply.
Both Ursula and Nino froze.
"Eh?" they said in unison.
To be Continued...
Spell Cards used this Chapter:
Light Sign: "Purifying Circle"
Spell Type: Offensive Spell Card
Target: AOE
Danmaku Type: Light Bullet
Element: Sun
User: Tsurumaki Kokoro
Thunder Sign: "Origin of Thunder"
Spell Type: Offensive Spell Card
Target: Single Target
Danmaku Type: Slash Bullet
Element: Wood, Metal
User: Nagae Riku
Phantom: "Ravaging Claw"
Spell Type: Offensive Spell Card
Target: Single Target
Danmaku Type: Sharp Bullet
Element: Moon
User: Shinzo
Fish Sign: "Dragonfish Drill"
Spell Type: Offensive Spell Card
Target: Single Target
Danmaku: Body Bullet
Element: Moon, Water
User: Nagae Riku