The clang of steel and the roar of a thousand men echoed across the battlefield, a
symphony of destruction that shook the very foundations of the kingdom. High
above, within the fortified stone walls of the royal keep, the queen lay on a bed of silk,
her face pale with exhaustion. She had just given birth as the siege raged on. She
clutched a tiny form wrapped in crimson cloth, a new life born amidst the chaos of
death. The air was thick with the scent of fear, but in her eyes, there was only fierce,
unwavering love for the child in her arms.
Just as the tremors of battle reached the keep's inner sanctum, the doors burst open.
It was the king, his armor dented and streaked with blood, his sword still in hand. He
was a force of nature, a mountain of a man who had broken through the enemy lines
to return to his queen. His helmet was of, his face a mask of triumph and concern. He
strode to the bed, his heavy boots silent on the marble floor.
He knelt beside the queen, his gaze falling upon the child. The infant stirred, its tiny
hands grasping for the air. The king gently lifted the baby, his massive hands dwarfing
the small body. As he looked into the child's eyes, a profound sense of destiny filled
the room, overpowering the distant sounds of war. A smile, full of both love and
ruthless ambition, spread across his face.
"You're my world's best creation," he declared, his voice a low rumble that promised
conquest. "No one can defeat you. Conquer the whole world, my son."
The words were not just a blessing; they were a prophecy, a command etched into the
very essence of the child's soul. He held the future of his kingdom—and perhaps the
world—in his arms.
;)page 2
The polished chrome of a luxury sports car gleamed under the showroom lights, a
testament to Haru Ryūzaki's success. Yet, the sleek perfection of his business was in
stark contrast to the strained conversation happening within it.
"Sora," Haru said, his voice calm but firm. He ran a hand over the hood of a scarlet
convertible. "You're 22 now. It's time to take on some responsibility. You should get a
job, or at least come work with me here."
Sora, leaning against a glass wall, didn't even look at his older brother. He was
scrolling through his phone, a dismissive smile on his face. "Why? You're here, aren't
you?" he replied, his tone laced with nonchalant arrogance. "You earned me a good
life, a house, and our parents.. What else do I need? Twenty-two is for having fun, not
for being a workhorse."
Haru's hand dropped from the car's surface. A deep sigh escaped his lips. "I'm not
going to be here forever, Sora. I can't always take care of you."Sora finally looked up from his phone, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. "Whatever.
Don't worry about it," he said, pushing himself off the wall. "I've got plans."
With a final, dismissive wave, he turned on his heel and strode toward the
showroom's sliding glass doors. Haru watched his younger brother leave, the doors
sealing shut with a soft hiss behind him. The noise of the city returned, but inside
Haru's heart, a heavy silence settled. He was a successful man, a respected
businessman, but he couldn't get through to the person he cared about most. He was
alone with the shining, empty trophies of his success.
;)Page 3
The quiet of the middle of the night was a fragile thing, shattered instantly by the shrill
ringing of Haru's phone. He fumbled for it on his nightstand, the bright screen a
sudden, unwelcome intrusion. He answered, his voice groggy.
"Hello?"
"Haru! It's me. Something's happened," his father's voice, Hiroshi Ryūzaki, came
through, thick with panic.
Haru sat bolt upright, all sleep gone. "Dad? What's wrong? Is it Sora?"
"He's not picking up his phone, Haru! Your mother... she's crying. She found a note in
his room." Hiroshi's voice broke, and the faint sound of his mother's sobs could be
heard in the background.
Haru's heart sank. He knew this was the consequence of their earlier conversation.
"What did it say?" he asked, his voice steady despite the dread coiling in his gut.
"It says... 'I'm going to live alone. I don't need my older brother. I'll show him I can do
it alone.'"
A flash of fierce determination ignited in Haru's eyes. The note wasn't a cry for help; it
was a reckless challenge. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll find him," he said, his voice now a low
promise. "Just take a deep breath and go back to bed. I'll call you as soon as I do."
He hung up without waiting for a reply. In a moment, he was dressed, his keys were in
his hand, and he was out the door. The garage door rumbled open, and the sleek,
black car he had admired earlier in his showroom now felt like a tool for a mission. He
slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool beneath his touch. The engine roared to life,
a powerful, angry sound that cut through the silent night as he pulled out onto the
empty streets, a man on a hunt for his foolish younger brother.
;)PAGE 4
The black car sliced through the deserted streets, its headlights cutting through the
darkness like two searching eyes. But Haru Ryūzaki's mind wasn't on the road; it was
miles away, pulled back into the past by the memory of his uncle, Takeshi.
Takeshi had been more than just an uncle; he was a mentor, a father figure, a man
whose kindness was only matched by his immense strength of character. He had
always been a guiding force for both Haru and his brother, a model of responsibility
and grace. But after he passed away, a strange sadness had settled over Sora. Tocope, he had thrown himself into a new life of friends and parties, mistaking
carelessness for freedom, a way of running from the pain rather than moving on.
Haru's thoughts crystallized into a single, vivid memory. The sun was setting over a
nearby river, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Haru and Takeshi were
sitting on a bench, a quiet moment between a busy day. Sora had just run off to a
nearby vending machine to get some cold drinks.
"Haru," Takeshi had said, his voice soft but filled with the weight of experience. "He
has a pure heart. A shy one, but pure. Make sure you're always with him to show him
the right way."
The image dissolved, and Haru was back in the car, the roar of the engine a stark
contrast to the quiet of his memory. He gripped the steering wheel, a new
understanding settling in his mind. He had been looking for Sora in all the wrong
places, searching for a troublemaker in a city full of them. But his brother wasn't just
running away from him; he was running toward something—or someone.
A sudden, powerful realization hit him. The date. Today wasn't just another day; it was
his uncle's birthday. Sora, lost and grieving, wouldn't be in a bar or a friend's house.
He would be at the only place he felt safe. Before leaving town, before truly cutting
ties, Sora would go to visit the only person who truly understood him. He would go to
their uncle's grave.
Haru's foot pressed down on the gas pedal. His destination was no longer a mystery.
He had a place to go and a promise to keep.
;)PAGE 5
The cemetery was a quiet place under the pale moonlight, a city of stone sleeping
beneath the stars. Haru parked his car a short distance away, its engine a silent
memory, and moved on foot. He followed the path he had walked countless times,
past rows of tombstones, until he saw them. Sora was kneeling by their uncle's grave,
a small bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand, and next to him was a girl, her head
bowed.
Haru took a few soft steps, his feet barely making a sound on the gravel path. He
crept up behind them, the silence amplifying their shared grief. Then, he reached out
and gently tapped both of them on the shoulder at the same time. The two of them
jumped, letting out mufled, comical yelps of surprise as they spun around to face
him.
Haru's gaze softened as he saw them, but he held on to his tough exterior. He took
each of their hands in his, his grip firm. "Did you two think you could just disappear?
Do you have any idea how worried everyone was?" he scolded, but the anger in his
voice was already melting into concern.
Tears welled up in Sora's eyes, and his shoulders began to shake. "You're always the
best at everything," he sobbed, his voice cracking. "You're always right. But I'm not
like you. I'm not perfect at anything. No one likes me because I'm useless."
Haru's own eyes welled up with tears. He squeezed his brother's hand tighter. "You
think... you think I'm better than you?" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not.
You're the one who is always better than me. You make mistakes, but you learn from
them and you grow. You just don't notice it because you keep running away fromresponsibility. You're a work in progress, Sora, but you're not useless. You have a
pure heart, and you have to be proud of that."
Sora looked up at him, his face streaked with tears. The girl next to them watched
silently, her own eyes glistening.
Haru wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a small, tired smile on his face. "Let's
go. I'm starving," he said, turning to head back to the car. "And you, too," he added,
looking at the girl. "Sora, your girlfriend probably hasn't eaten either. I'll get you both
something."
Sora's tears instantly stopped, replaced by a deep blush that spread across his face.
He quickly looked from the girl to Haru, stammering out a denial. But the damage was
done. The air had been cleared, and the three of them began to walk toward the car, a
small family unit reunited under the stars.
;)PAGE 6
The morning sun poured through the wide showroom windows, casting a warm,
hopeful glow on the cars. But the light wasn't just on the polished metal; it was on
Sora Ryūzaki. With a seriousness Haru hadn't seen in years, Sora listened, absorbed
every word, and eagerly took notes. His eyes, once full of reckless abandon, now held
a focused glint, a mirror of the determination that had defined their uncle. Haru felt a
warmth spread through his chest. He was finally getting through to his brother. He
was finally a good role model.
A quiet smile touched Haru's lips as he looked over the busy showroom. The new life,
the new Sora, was a testament to his promise. I've completed my promise, Uncle, he
thought to himself. He's on the right path now.
He excused himself to get a drink from a nearby convenience store. The city air was
bustling, a stark contrast to the quiet focus of the showroom. As he neared the store,
a voice cried out from a nearby alley. He turned and saw a man, his face contorted
with malice, pressing a knife against the throat of a young woman. The woman's face
was white with terror. It was Kasumi.
Without a second thought, the calm, responsible businessman became a desperate
guardian. "Hey! Leave her alone!" he yelled, and charged forward. He slammed into
the robber, knocking him away from Kasumi. But the man was quick, and with a feral
snarl, he plunged the knife deep into Haru's side. A searing pain, like a brand, shot
through his body. He stumbled back, a gasp escaping his lips as his hand flew to the
wound, now gushing with blood.
The robber smiled, the knife still in his hand. But Haru, with a surge of adrenaline and
a final, desperate act of will, pulled the blade from his own flesh and thrust it into the
man's chest. The robber crumpled to the ground, his life fading as quickly as the light
in his eyes.
Haru felt the world begin to spin. He looked at Kasumi, her face a mask of shock and
horror, and forced a weak smile. "Go home," he whispered, pushing her away. "Go to
Sora. Tell him I'm sorry..."
He stumbled back toward the street, his vision blurring. He needed a hospital. He
needed help. But the world was already fading to a dull roar. The headlights of a truckrounded the corner, a massive, unyielding beast hurtling through the night. There was
a deafening sound of metal and glass, a final, crushing blow.
Haru Ryūzaki's life, a story of quiet success and selfless love, ended on a cold street,
his blood spilling onto the asphalt, a promise fulfilled, and a destiny now ready to
begin.
;)PAGE 7
The abyss was not silent. It began with a low, rhythmic sound—the steady drip of life
retreating into the cold pavement.
At the center of the deserted crossroads, two figures lay broken under the flickering
glow of the streetlights. One man was slumped against a vending machine, his body a
map of jagged, mortal wounds. This was Haru. Despite the steel that had pierced him,
his face bore no trace of agony. Instead, he looked like a man who had finally finished
a long, dificult race. He died with the quiet, heavy stillness of a hero who had
achieved his purpose—leaving the world without a single lingering regret.
A few inches away, the other man lay sprawled across the asphalt. His fingers were
still white-knuckled, frozen in a desperate grip around a necklace. A blade remained
buried deep in his chest, a cruel reminder of the suddenness of the end. Unlike Haru,
his face was a mask of pure, startled horror. He had been stolen from life before he
was ready, his eyes wide with the realization that his time had run out.
Two lives ended that night. One left in peace; the other left in pieces. But as their
blood mingled on the dark street, the soul of the hero was already drifting toward a
new beginning.