Clear blue sky stretches overhead, pure white clouds drifting across it.
The sun’s high now, spilling warmth over the estate, the breeze soft and steady through the scorched ruins.
I move slow through the main building that’s blackened like coal.
Lady Ayano trembles in my arms. I keep watch over her, alert.
More hands swarm the place—Exorcists weren’t enough.
Lady Kimiyo must’ve called in reinforcements from the Akachi Clan.
Strangers stride through the burnt-out estate. I carry Lady Ayano past them, eyes scanning the wreckage.
Crossing the courtyard, I reach the dance hall.
Light slants through the collapsed roof, cutting pillars through the dust and ruin.
Akachi Clan members sweep through here, peeling burnt bodies from the floor, loading stretchers. Ugly work, but necessary.
At the back, near the platform, a charred corpse leans against a blackened heap.
No doubt who it is—the one who gave me this name and the final mission I carry.
“Meow...”
Lady Ayano struggles, so I set her down.
She pads over, nose close, sniffing the remains.
She already knows, but she keeps checking, careful.
“...”
“Let’s check elsewhere, too.”
We move through the estate, wherever she wants.
Time crawls, thick and heavy. The warm afternoon sun and bright sky feel like a sick joke.
Back in the garden, I sit by the fountain at its center, facing the main building.
Lady Ayano sits stiff beside me.
No words. Nothing to say.
She’s not distraught anymore, but what’s behind those eyes? What’s she feeling?
It’s like stepping blind into endless darkness. No clue where this path goes.
Maybe for better. Maybe it only gets worse.
Seeing Coral Eldarian’s utter downfall like this, I can’t help but wonder what a screw-up like me can even do.
“Meow.”
She taps me with a paw, wanting something.
I hand her the phone. She opens the notes app and starts typing carefully with her paws.
[Ikaku. Thank you. I remembered a little. I’m shaken, but calm now.]
“Good to hear, Lady Ayano.”
I read and hand the phone back. She types again.
[Everything’s lost. Everyone’s dead. Grandfather, Grandmother, Father, my brothers... everyone in the estate is gone.]
“…Most likely.”
[Ikaku. I’m so glad you’re alive.]
“I’m deeply honored.”
Is it true? Was I the right choice?
Questions circle… but there’s no use dwelling.
[Ikaku. Will you still serve the Akai...? Will you still serve me?]
“Of course, Lady Ayano. I’m Ikaku Akamuro. Coral Terminator. Sword of the Akai house. My loyalty belongs to you.”
I take her small paw, press my lips to its back.
Her eyes grow misty.
She jumps into my arms. I hold her tight, legs locked so she won’t slip.
Like a safety bar on a coaster, I keep her steady and watch her tap away on the phone.
[Let’s tell my great-aunt I’m alive.]
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
We don’t know who’s still lurking.
Akachi Clan’s probably not hostile, but caution’s key. If the enemy meant to wipe out the Akai, Lady Ayano surviving might be trouble.
They could come after her.
Plus, the Akachi are technically a branch but run their own show now—history, power, all separate.
They’re picky about inheritance. Lady Ayano might be inconvenient.
[We need Akachi strength and favor for anything we do. It’s fine. She can be trusted. And if things go south, you’ll protect me.]
“You ask the impossible.”
Someone’s coming behind us. I slip the phone into my coat.
“So this is where you’ve been, Mr. Akamuro.”
“Miss Akashi? Still keeping watch?”
“Well, it is my assignment. It’s a problem when you wander off alone.”
“My apologies. By the way… where might Lady Kimiyo be? I have an important matter to discuss.”
I ask Sumire to help set up a meeting with Lady Kimiyo alone.
It’s suspicious, I know. But despite wearing a cranky look, she agrees.
She looks skeptical as hell, though.
We wait in the treasure vault, where the typewriter is, and Lady Kimiyo arrives.
No one else is with her.
“So you really did come alone. Thank you.”
“Now then, what’s this about? You summoned me here. I hope it’s not some nonsense.”
“Before that—” I nod to Sumire, arms crossed against the wall.
Lady Kimiyo follows my gaze.
“Sumire, go for a walk,” she orders.
“...Understood. Mr. Akamuro? Don’t try anything funny now.”
She’s probably worried about assassination.
In any case, she steps away. Silence thickens.
Clack clack clack clack clack.
Clack clack clack—ding.
Keystrokes echo.
Lady Kimiyo tilts her head, eyes sharp on the typewriter and the cat pawing away at it.
I give an urging nod. She leans in quietly and reads the paper.
Her eyes go wide.