The One Who Remembers

 The morning light filtered through the mist, casting a silvery haze across Sezka’s trees. The air was cool and damp, heavy with the scent of dew and something older something ancient. Kaito stood quietly near the edge of the path, watching the others pack their things. His eyes drifted to the crystal-blue auroria flower nestled in his bag. It looked dull. Wilted. Like it was dying.

A quiet panic stirred in his chest.

“We were so close,” Kaito whispered under his breath. “Why now?”

Yita called out to him, smiling. "Ready? There's another bloom further inland. Let’s find it before the sun hits too high."

Kaito nodded, forcing a smile. The others hadn’t noticed. They couldn’t know. Not yet.

The group moved deeper into the wilds, past the cobbled edge of Sezka and into untamed forest. Shadows danced between the trees, and the birdsong grew quieter with each step. There was an eerie hush that seemed to grow with them.

As they walked, Kaito kept checking the flower. The blue shimmer that once pulsed gently like a heartbeat was fading. It had always glowed when he was near the others when their trust surrounded him. Now it was dim, brittle.

He remembered the woman who had first told him about the auroria flower.

"It only blooms for those with a deep desire," she had said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “Be careful what you seek.”

When Kaito had shown her his flower crystal blue instead of the crimson she expected her eyes widened in horror. But she said nothing. Just looked at him as if she’d seen a ghost. Or a monster.

He shook the memory away.

The trail led them to a quiet village on the outskirts of Sezka Cross Town, it was called. Quaint and quiet. Unsettling in its stillness. The villagers didn’t smile. They didn’t speak unless spoken to.

“There’s a lake nearby,” Kaito told them, his voice calm. “The flower we’re looking for blooms at its center. In the middle of a forest. It only opens when the mist thickens.”

Renji squinted at him. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Just tired,” Kaito replied. “Let’s go.”

The path to the forest narrowed, twisting into a dense maze of roots and moss. The deeper they walked, the stranger things became. The fog thickened, swallowing the sunlight. Trees leaned in closer, whispering things the wind couldn’t explain.

One by one, the group grew quiet.

Then, someone was missing.

“Haru?” Sora called out. “Haru, where’d you go?”

No answer.

Yita turned in circles. “She was just behind us.”

They retraced their steps, but the mist had shifted. The forest was no longer the same. Paths that had once been there were gone. Even the trees looked different.

Kaito didn’t say anything. He just stared into the fog.

It’s starting, he thought.

Then, he saw something. A figure standing ahead, cloaked in shadow and mist. Human but not quite.

The others didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe they were too far behind.

The figure stepped closer. Kaito froze.

A voice rang out. Calm. Familiar.

“What’s wrong, Kaito?” it said. “You knew this would happen.”

Kaito’s throat went dry. The voice it shouldn’t exist.

“You knew,” the figure continued. “No use pretending now. Not when we both remember.”

It was Akura.

Or something pretending to be him.

Kaito didn’t move. The world around him seemed to melt into silence.

“You’re not real,” Kaito whispered.

Akura’s smile was thin, cold. “Aren’t I? Or am I just the part of you you’ve been running from?”

Kaito’s fists clenched. “I forgot you. I buried you.”

“No,” Akura said. “You buried the truth. But it always finds its way back.”

Kaito’s pulse pounded. The flower in his bag pulsed then flickered.

“Why is the flower dying?” Kaito asked.

Akura tilted his head. “Because your lies are catching up to you. Because even your friends wear masks now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Kaito took a step back. The forest around them darkened.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“You think this curse will leave you if they trust you,” Akura whispered. “But you’re not the only one hiding something. And you’re running out of time.”

The fog swirled. The figure faded.

Kaito stood alone.

Footsteps came from behind Yita, Sora, and Renji emerged, looking shaken.

“We couldn’t find Haru,” Renji said, breathless.

“She was right there,” Sora whispered. “And then she was just… gone.”

Kaito turned, masking his face again. “We’ll find her. Let’s keep moving.”

But the way forward was unclear.

The flower at his side flickered once more.

And in the silence, Kaito could still hear Akura’s voice, like a whisper caught in the trees.

“Lies always bloom. Just like flowers.”