Chapter 1: A Flicker of Fate

----

The sun hung low over Yamigawa, casting a warm orange glow over the bustling streets of the city. Its faded warmth seeped through the small window in Aiko Kuroyami’s room, yet she barely noticed. She was focused on the small, chipped mug of tea in her hand, its steam swirling lazily into the air. Life had always been simple for Aiko. It was just her and her dad, Takashi. They were a team, a family of two in a city that didn’t ask too many questions.

As she sipped her tea, she also was watching her father as he cleaned his sword. The rhythm of his movements—careful, deliberate—was almost meditative. It had always been a quiet moment they shared, like the calm before a storm, but today, Aiko’s thoughts swirled with more questions than usual.

“You’re staring, kid,” Takashi said without looking up from his task, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What’s on your mind?”

Aiko hesitated. She knew she could ask anything and he'd give her an answer, even if it wasn’t the one she wanted. But today, the question burned.

“Dad, you never really talk about Mom. What happened to her?” Aiko’s voice was steady, though the question had been weighing on her for a while.

Takashi’s hand paused, and for a brief moment, the silence between them was thick. Aiko could feel the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air. He set the sword down carefully, his eyes meeting hers, warm but guarded.

“She passed away when you were a baby,” he said, his tone calm, but there was an edge to it—one that Aiko had come to recognize.

“Is that all?” she pressed, though she immediately regretted pushing him further. He wasn’t one to show vulnerability, and she didn’t want to push too hard. But the questions lingered, gnawing at her.

Takashi sighed, wiping his hands on a rag before he gave her a small smile. “It’s been a long time, Aiko. Let the past stay where it belongs.”

Aiko nodded but didn’t quite believe him. She had been asking this question for years, and each time, she was met with the same answer. But she knew better than to press too much now. She glanced over at the clock on the wall.

“Right, I should get going. Haruto and Yumi are waiting for me.”

Takashi’s eyes softened. “Just don’t go starting any fights. And if you do, make sure you win.”

Aiko smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth at her dad’s usual attempt at humor. “Always do.”

She grabbed her bag and slipped out the door, her mind still racing with unanswered questions.

Outside, the warm breeze of Yamigawa brushed against her face as she met up with her friends, Haruto and Yumi, near the riverbank. The city’s skyline loomed in the distance, but here, near the river, everything felt quieter, more peaceful.

Yumi was the first to speak, looking over at Aiko with a half-smile. “You still don’t know what you want to do after graduation, huh?”

Aiko shrugged, letting the question roll off her. “Not really. Everything feels like it’s in the air, like there’s more to figure out before I make a decision.”

Haruto grinned, leaning back on the grass. “Well, you better figure it out soon, or the world’s going to pass you by. You can’t keep avoiding it.”

“I’m not avoiding it, I just—” Aiko’s sentence trailed off as she caught sight of a group of teenagers picking on a younger kid. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, his face scrunched up in fear as they loomed over him. A ball had rolled out of his hands, and that was apparently enough to warrant their bullying.

Without thinking, Aiko stood up, her fists clenching. “Hey, what’s your problem?” she shouted, marching toward the group.

The teens turned, a mix of surprise and irritation crossing their faces. One of them smirked. “This kid hit us with a ball. He needs to learn not to mess with us.”

“Targeting a kid because of that?” Aiko’s voice was steady, but her glare was enough to make them pause.

They exchanged looks, and without warning, one of them lunged at her. Aiko ducked, sidestepping easily. Her body moved before her brain could catch up—she had practiced her reflexes so many times it had become second nature. With fluid motion, she landed a quick punch to one of the bullies’ stomachs, sending him sprawling.

Another teen tried to grab her from behind, but Aiko spun, her elbow striking him in the chest. She didn’t hold back. Her speed was too much for them, and one by one, they dropped, unable to match her quick strikes.

When the last one staggered to his feet, Aiko didn’t hesitate. She knocked him down with a swift roundhouse kick. She stood over him, breathing slightly heavier but still composed.

“Stay out of trouble,” she said, her eyes sharp.

The kid blinked, wide-eyed but relieved. “Thanks... I didn’t know what to do.”

Aiko gave him a small nod. “Just don’t let it happen again.” With that, she turned and walked back toward her friends, leaving the bullies to lick their wounds.

By the time she got home, the sun had started to set. The house was eerily quiet. Aiko dropped her bag by the door, calling out for her dad. No answer.

She wandered through the house, her footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor. She moved through the living room, glancing at the photos on the wall—most of them were old pictures of her dad, showing a younger version of Takashi with friends, family, and sometimes, a man who looked like his father.

It was then that her eyes landed on one picture in particular. It was a black-and-white photo of her dad as a child, standing next to a man holding a sword. The man’s face was somewhat blurred, but there was no mistaking the way the sword glinted in his hands.

Aiko’s heart skipped a beat. She knew her dad had been a swordsman, but this—this was something else. Her hand hovered over the photo frame, her mind racing.

Before she could investigate further, she heard the front door creak open.

“Aiko,” Takashi’s voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. “You’re home late.”

Aiko glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. She had so many questions, but she knew better than to ask them now. “Yeah. Just got caught up with... something.”

Takashi walked over, ruffling her hair as he passed. “You’re a lot like me. Never stop asking questions. Just don’t get too caught up in things you can’t change.”

Aiko didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take, but as the night wore on, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off—like there was more to her family’s past than her dad was willing to let on.