Chapter 36 : Winter whispers

A thin veil of fog blanketed the sleeping city, diffusing the early morning light into a soft silver glow. The streets were quiet, the air crisp with the chill of approaching winter. A few birds fluttered through the mist, their wings slicing through the silence as the world slowly began to stir awake.

High above the city, in the upper floor of a derelict building half-eaten by time and war, Mikuya stood near a crumbling wall. Her arms were crossed, scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. Her breath came out in faint clouds as she looked out at the sprawling cityscape. Concrete towers pierced through the mist, indifferent to the chaos hidden in their shadows.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, gaze distant.

“Nene… Hana… Yuka… Emiko…”

Names whispered in her heart like echoes in the fog. Their laughter. Their teasing. The lunches they shared beneath cherry blossom trees. It all felt like a distant memory now—a beautiful dream slowly being swallowed by the darkness of her reality.

Behind her, Sora still slept, curled under an old, tattered blanket. She didn’t want to disturb him. This was a rare moment of peace, and she had no desire to break it.

The wind brushed her hair as she closed her eyes. “Are they safe?” she thought. “Do they hate me now… or do they still wait?”

---

In another part of the city, an alarm buzzed quietly in a modest house. Nene stirred, eyes blinking open to the soft light leaking through the window next to her bed. She didn’t move right away. Her gaze wandered outside, to the faint mist clinging to the rooftops and power lines. A strange emptiness settled in her chest.

A knock came at her door, followed by a gentle voice.

“Nene, time to get up! Breakfast is ready!” her mother called out warmly.

“I’m coming…” she replied, voice low but clear.

She swung her legs out of bed and slowly walked to the bathroom. Cold water splashed on her face as she washed up, her reflection staring back with dull eyes. She brushed her hair and dressed in her school uniform, the familiar motions almost mechanical now.

Downstairs, the smell of grilled fish and miso soup lingered in the air. Her father sat at the table reading the morning newspaper. As Nene came down the stairs, he looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, Nene,” he greeted kindly.

“Morning,” she replied, offering a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

They ate in near silence. Her parents exchanged glances, worry carved into the lines of their faces.

She stood up quickly after finishing. “I’m heading out,” she said, grabbing her bag.

“Be careful on the way,” her father said.

“Yeah…” she replied, already slipping out the door.

As it closed, her mother sighed softly.

“She’s changed…” she murmured, sipping her tea. “She used to always smile before school.”

“She’s still hurting,” her father said quietly. “After Mikuya disappeared… something in her dimmed.”

“What should we do?” her mother asked.

He shook his head slowly. “Give her time. That’s all we can do for now.”

---

Hana adjusted the collar of her coat as she stepped out of her house, the chilly air biting at her cheeks. Her breath puffed out in small clouds as she hurried down the street. Her school bag felt heavier today, though not because of the books.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Mikuya.

The way she vanished. The agents that came to their school. The rumors that spread like wildfire.

“A criminal… a fugitive… dangerous…”

They were lies. All of them. Hana knew it in her heart. But lies had a way of spreading faster than truth, especially among scared students looking for something to gossip about.

Up ahead, she spotted a familiar figure.

“Nene!” she called out.

Nene turned, her eyes widening just slightly. “Hana…”

Their steps quickened as they met halfway, and for a moment, there was hesitation.

But then they both forced small smiles.

“Morning,” Nene said.

“Morning,” Hana replied.

They fell into step together.

Neither of them mentioned Mikuya.

Not yet.

---

Yuka adjusted the scarf around her neck, hugging it close. She felt tired even though she’d slept. Her mother had said goodbye with a smile this morning, but the warmth in her home never truly reached her heart. The echo of broken glass from the night before still lingered in her mind. She walked faster.

Ahead, she saw Nene and Hana walking side by side.

“Yuka!” Hana waved.

“Wait up!” she called, running a few steps to catch up. As she did, Emiko appeared from the next street, jogging lightly toward the group.

“You guys are early today,” Emiko said, trying to sound cheerful.

“Couldn’t sleep much,” Yuka admitted softly.

They all looked at each other—four friends walking the same path, yet all carrying the same shadow in their hearts.

Mikuya.

No one said her name aloud. But her presence lingered in the pauses between their sentences, in the way their eyes darted to the side, in the silence that stretched a little too long.

As they neared the school gate, the familiar noise of other students filled the air. Laughter, chatter… and the whispers.

“There they are—her friends.”

“Do you think they knew she was a spy?”

“She’s probably hiding somewhere planning her next attack…”

Nene clenched her fists.

“Just ignore them,” Hana muttered.

They nodded and walked in together. But the absence was unmistakable.

The seat in the middle of their group remained empty.

The light that once made them whole was gone.

---

Far above, the fog was lifting slightly.

Mikuya turned from the broken wall and walked back inside. Her fingers were numb from the cold, but her heart ached more than anything.

“They’re probably scared of me now… probably think I’m a monster.”

She hugged her arms around herself.

But a small hope flickered.

Maybe… just maybe… they were waiting too.

_ _ _

The air inside the abandoned building was still, broken only by the soft whisper of steel being polished.

Sora blinked his eyes open slowly, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the broken windows. The early fog still lingered outside, painting the world in a soft gray. As his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was Mikuya—sitting cross-legged on the cold floor, her katana resting across her lap.

She was cleaning it with delicate precision, as if the act itself gave her clarity. Her expression was calm, but her eyes... distant.

“Morning,” Sora said, stretching out his arms with a yawn.

Mikuya didn’t look up. “Morning.”

Sora sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “Kaito hasn’t contacted us in days...”

Still wiping the blade, Mikuya responded coolly, “How would he? He doesn’t even know where we are.”

“True,” Sora sighed. “I’ll send a message.”

She gave a silent nod, eyes still locked on her blade.

Reaching into his pouch, Sora took out a small scroll and a tiny, sleek mechanical bird with glassy eyes—one of their few remaining communication tools. He scribbled a short encrypted message, attached it, then gently placed the bird on the ledge. With a flick of his wrist, it launched into the sky, disappearing into the morning fog.

He turned back toward Mikuya, hesitating. “Hey, Mikuya…”

But before he could continue, a sharp clatter echoed through the building.

Both of them immediately tensed.

Mikuya reached for her katana, unsheathing it halfway. Sora was already on his feet, dagger drawn. They exchanged a quick glance and moved silently toward the source of the sound.

A shadow appeared in the hallway, the footsteps light—but confident.

Then a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“Whoa, whoa—don’t stab me, it’s just me.”

Sora froze. “Kaito?”

Sure enough, the figure stepped into the light—messy dark hair, tired eyes, and a slight limp. His coat was covered in dust, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Kaito!” Sora breathed out in relief.

Mikuya lowered her blade slowly, though her eyes remained sharp.

“You two really know how to disappear,” Kaito muttered with a strained smile. “Took me forever to find this place. Your little bird helped... barely.”

Sora laughed softly. “We didn’t think you'd actually track it. You’re insane.”

“I had no choice,” Kaito replied. “You don’t know how bad things are getting at the agency.”

Mikuya finally stood up, slipping her katana back into its sheath. “Talk.”

Kaito nodded, his expression turning grim. “Not here. Not standing. I need a minute. And food—please tell me you have something that isn’t rats or expired cans.”

Sora rolled his eyes. “We have instant noodles.”

“I’ll take it,” Kaito grinned.

As the three sat down, a rare warmth settled between them for a moment, despite the cold winter air creeping through the cracks. But the weight of the war they were caught in returned quickly—pressing on their chests like a curse that refused to lift.

Whatever Kaito had to say, they knew it would shatter the quiet.

And outside, the city stirred awake under the pale sky—its people unaware of the storm gathering in silence.