Chapter 37 : Unspoken wounds

The morning sun peeked weakly through the shattered windows of the abandoned building, casting pale beams through the soft veil of fog blanketing the city. The cold wind whispered through the cracks in the concrete, carrying the scent of winter and something more… distant. Faint, but real—like the breath of a fading memory.

Kaito slurped the last of the instant noodles, steam rising from the cup as he sighed with quiet relief. “Man… that tasted like heaven,” he mumbled, licking his lips with a satisfied grin.

Sora chuckled softly, watching from across the room. “Looks like you really hadn’t eaten in days.”

Kaito rubbed the back of his neck, still chewing. “You’re not wrong.”

Mikuya sat silently near the collapsed wall, her back straight, legs folded, katana resting across her lap. She said nothing, but her gaze was fixed on the foggy horizon beyond the broken city skyline. Her fingers moved with familiar precision as she cleaned the blade, its surface catching the weak sunlight like silver fire.

Kaito noticed the silence and lowered the cup. “So… you want to know what’s going on inside the agency?”

The faintest flicker crossed Mikuya’s eyes. She didn’t turn, but she nodded slightly.

Kaito's light expression faded.

“They’ve ramped up everything,” he said, his voice growing heavier. “The soldiers are training day and night. And worse, they're starting to get a grip on using cursed energy.”

Sora’s brows furrowed. “Already?”

Kaito nodded. “They’ve brought in specialists. The specialists are pushing them beyond human limits. It’s brutal… but effective. They’re planning something. I’d bet my life they’ll send cursed users after you both soon.”

The weight of his words settled over the room like a thick fog. Mikuya paused, her grip on the katana tightening for just a second before continuing the cleaning process as if nothing had been said.

“I’ve been tasked with training ten units myself,” Kaito added quietly. “That’s why I couldn’t contact you earlier. It’s… it’s been hell lately.”

“You should rest,” Sora said, walking over and handing him a blanket from the supply pack. “You’re exhausted.”

Kaito smiled weakly and nodded, stretching out beside a crumbled pillar. “Yeah… I’ll take you up on that.”

Silence returned.

Mikuya moved to the wall, placing the cleaned katana beside her. She leaned against the cracked stone, arms folded, eyes scanning the awakening city. The quiet buzz of distant traffic and the hum of life continued below them, a city oblivious to the storm crawling in its shadows.

Then—meow.

A soft, startled sound escaped Mikuya’s lips as she looked down.

A black cat had appeared, brushing itself against her legs with slow, affectionate motions. Its yellow eyes looked up at her, purring gently.

Sora turned. “Huh? Where did that come from?”

Kaito sat up briefly, smiling. “Looks like it likes you, Mikuya.”

For a moment, her eyes widened in surprise. She slowly kneeled, unsure, hesitant… and gently reached out. The cat nudged its head into her hand, purring louder.

She reached into the pack and broke off a piece of bread, placing it carefully in front of the cat. It ate with calm eagerness, tail flicking.

Then she noticed something.

A thin, worn-out necklace around the cat’s neck.

Mikuya’s hand froze mid-air. Her breath caught in her throat.

The necklace—it was unmistakable.

A small charm. A snowflake. Cracked down the center.

The exact one she had given someone a long time ago.

Her expression darkened instantly, eyes growing hollow again.

Kaito noticed the change. “Mikuya? Everything okay?”

She blinked slowly and looked away, her face cold once more. “Yeah,” she replied, barely above a whisper. “It’s nothing.”

She sat down again beside the wall, the cat curling up beside her legs.

Sora watched her quietly, a faint, warm smile on his face.

“Maybe…” Kaito said softly to him, “maybe she’s healing.”

Sora nodded, the same hope flickering in his chest.

Minutes passed. The light shifted.

Then, without turning, Kaito asked quietly, “Did you talk to her? About that?”

Sora didn’t respond immediately. He looked at Mikuya, still sitting with the cat gently asleep beside her.

“No,” he said at last. “I tried. But… what if it breaks her again? She’s finally starting to breathe. I can’t risk that. I won’t leave her alone again.”

Kaito rested his head back and closed his eyes. “I get it. But… if you ever feel ready, don’t hold it in. She’s strong, Sora. Stronger than she knows.”

“I know,” Sora murmured. “I just wish I was as strong as she is.”

Kaito chuckled. “Maybe you are.”

Meanwhile…

The sound of a school bell echoed faintly as the girls stepped outside. Classes had ended early that day, but none of them felt lighter. The skies were gray, and the chill in the air felt heavier.

Nene adjusted her scarf as she walked with Hana by her side. The winter breeze tugged at their coats, the world around them gray and distant.

“Another day without her,” Hana murmured.

“Yeah,” Nene replied, voice low.

A few blocks down, they were joined by Yuka and Emiko. The four girls walked in silence for a while before Nene turned to them. “Come to my place today. I want to talk about... Mikuya.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

After a quick stop home to change out of their uniforms and put on warm winter clothes, they arrived at Nene’s place—an old but cozy two-story house with yellow walls and wide windows.

They gathered in her room, seated on the floor around a small kotatsu table. Cups of tea sat untouched as silence fell.

“I’ve been thinking…” Nene started, hands gripping her skirt. “We haven’t done anything. We just keep… existing. Every day feels heavier. She’s out there, somewhere.”

Hana looked down. “Yeah. But how do we even find her? The whole agency came to our school. If they couldn’t find her…”

“We’re her friends,” Emiko said. “We should be doing something.”

But Yuka remained quiet, eyes distant.

Nene noticed. “Yuka? Are you okay?”

Yuka flinched slightly, then looked down at her hands.

“…Do you think…” she whispered, her voice trembling, “do you think Mikuya will ever come back to us?”

The room froze.

“I mean… with everything that’s happened,” Yuka continued, tears forming in her eyes, “what if she’s changed? What if she hates us for not being able to protect her? What if she’s hurt—or worse?”

Her voice cracked. The tears came silently at first, then broke free.

“I miss her so much…”

Nene reached across the table, hugging her tightly. Emiko and Hana followed without a word.

Tears fell freely, shared across all four of them.

Their warmth didn’t stop the ache in their chests, but for a moment—it made the weight bearable.

“She’s still Mikuya,” Hana said softly. “And she’ll come back. We just have to keep believing.”

“And when she does,” Emiko added, “we’ll be there. Just like always.”

Nene held Yuka’s hand tightly. “We’ll wait. No matter how long it takes.”

They cried together, the weight of loss and helplessness finally pouring out.

The light in their group had vanished, but their hearts still reached for it—hoping, hurting, waiting.

Outside, snow began to fall.

Tiny white flakes, barely visible.

But they fell.

Like a quiet promise.