Chapter 43 : Snowfall over silence

The cold wind crept through the cracks in the broken wall, whistling like a ghost’s whisper. Mikuya slowly opened her eyes.

Gray light filtered through the empty hideout. Snow was falling again—soft, silent, endless. She pulled the worn blanket tighter around herself and rose, still wrapped in silence. Her breath fogged in the cold air. Step by step, she approached the gap in the ruined wall.

Outside, the city lay beneath a blanket of white. Rooftops and streets, alleys and towers—all veiled in snow. A world that once burned with chaos now stood frozen in time. Mikuya stared, her eyes dull, lost in thought.

So much has changed. And more is coming.

She placed a hand on the icy edge of the wall. Her fingers trembled—but not from the cold.

Elsewhere, beneath the same gray sky, three girls stepped out of their homes.

Nene tugged her scarf closer around her neck. Hana was a few steps ahead, waving. Emiko joined them moments later, brushing snow from her bangs. They walked the familiar road to school together, but today felt… heavier.

“Do you think Yuka will come today?” Emiko asked, breaking the silence.

Nene bit her lip. “I don’t know… It’s been a while since she’s talked to us.”

“She’s not answering messages either,” Hana added. “She’s just been... gone.”

The three of them slowed, all their thoughts drifting to the same person. Not Yuka—but Mikuya.

“Should we try talking to Yuka again if she shows up?” Emiko asked gently.

“We can try,” Nene said softly. “But let’s not push her.”

Just then, Hana stopped. “Look.”

A figure walked behind them, footsteps light but steady.

Yuka.

She wore her uniform like a second skin, perfect and pristine. Her dark hair fluttered with the wind, eyes fixed ahead, expression unreadable. Her presence felt sharp… colder than the snow around them.

“Yuka!” Hana called, but Yuka walked past them, not slowing, not looking.

Nene, Hana, and Emiko exchanged looks. None of them spoke. Silently, they followed behind her.

At school, the classroom buzzed with quiet conversations and the scratching of pencils. Yuka sat by the window, her chin resting on her hand, watching the snow fall beyond the glass. She hadn’t said a word.

The others sat together, whispering softly.

“Should we… talk to her now?” Emiko asked, glancing over.

“She hasn’t even looked at us,” Hana muttered.

“I’ll wait,” Nene said. “She’ll come when she’s ready.”

A few minutes passed. Then—

“Do you three have a moment?”

The voice was cold.

Yuka stood before them. Her eyes, distant and sharp, sent a chill down their spines.

“Y-Yeah,” Nene said, surprised. “Of course.”

Without another word, Yuka turned and walked toward the stairwell. The others followed. None of them spoke as they climbed to the rooftop.

The sky above was a blanket of gray. Snow drifted lightly around them, settling on their hair and shoulders. The air was still—silent.

Yuka stepped forward, her back to them. Then, she spoke.

“Are you still looking for Mikuya?”

The question was soft, yet sharp enough to pierce.

Nene blinked. “Of course we are… Why do you ask?”

Yuka didn’t turn around. “Why? Why are you trying so hard to bring her back?”

Her voice held no emotion.

“Because she’s our friend!” Hana snapped. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Wait,” Nene said quickly, placing a hand on Hana’s arm. “Yuka… What are you trying to say?”

Finally, Yuka turned.

Her eyes were cold. Her expression—empty.

“Forget about Mikuya.”

Three hearts froze.

“She’s not coming back,” Yuka continued. “People like her… don’t get happy endings.”

The words cut deeper than any blade.

“What…?” Emiko whispered, eyes wide. “Yuka, what are you saying?”

“You don’t mean that,” Nene said firmly. “You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” Yuka’s voice was ice. “You keep hoping. You keep searching. But the truth is—Mikuya’s already gone. You’re just too scared to admit it.”

“That’s enough!” Hana snapped, stepping forward. “What’s wrong with you?! How can you say something like that after everything we’ve been through together?!”

Nene stepped between them. “Stop! All of you!”

Silence fell.

The snow kept falling.

Yuka turned her back again, ready to walk away.

But Nene took a step forward. Her voice trembled.

“Yuka.”

Yuka stopped.

Nene stared at her back.

“You’re wrong. I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re wrong. We will bring Mikuya back. We have to.”

Yuka didn’t turn. Her voice, barely above a whisper, was filled with finality.

“You can try. But it won’t change anything.”

And with that, she walked away.

The others stood in silence, the snow quietly piling at their feet.

The classroom was filled with chatter, laughter, the soft thud of footsteps and chairs scraping the floor—but in one corner, silence reigned. Nene, Hana, and Emiko sat in their seats, wordless. Ever since the rooftop, their minds had been heavy. Yuka’s cold words still echoed like a stormcloud refusing to pass: “Forget about Mikuya. She’s not coming back.”

No one dared to speak. The room was bright, yet it felt darker around them. A teacher's voice tried to reach them from the front of the class, but it was distant, muffled by their emotions.

—

Far away, in the crumbling quiet of the hideout, Mikuya strapped her katana to her side. Her breath formed faint clouds in the cold air. The snow outside hadn’t stopped, and she pulled her cloak tighter, stepping out through the cracked doorway into the white-shrouded streets.

Today’s goal was simple: gather information. She moved with the ghostlike grace of someone used to being unseen. And yet, halfway through tailing a unit of patrolling soldiers, the rhythm broke.

One of them stopped. Turned.

“She’s here!”

Three of them activated cursed energy in sync, their weapons glowing faintly blue with jagged cracks of aura. Mikuya clicked her tongue and unsheathed her blade.

The fight wasn’t easy—cursed energy had become more widespread, and they were growing more adept. Sparks flew across the snow as steel clashed, and curses shrieked through the wind. Mikuya’s movements were tight, lethal. She was injured—lightly—but eventually, the last soldier dropped.

“Talk,” she said, blood staining the edge of her blade.

But none of them gave her anything. They only spat and stayed silent.

She finished them swiftly.

—

On her way back, she passed an old, forgotten park. She stopped for a moment.

It was silent.

Snow blanketed the rusty swing set. The slide was cracked. But in her mind, the scene transformed: the sound of laughter, the voices of four girls running, teasing, talking… Nene, Hana, Emiko, and Yuka. Her.

It vanished in the cold wind.

Mikuya turned away, tightening her cloak again.

—

School ended. The streets glistened with melted snow as students rushed home. But Yuka didn’t join anyone. She walked ahead, alone. Her eyes didn’t waver, her steps never slowed. She ignored the gazes behind her—Nene, Hana, and Emiko watching with worried expressions.

“She’s suffering,” Hana muttered.

Nene nodded. “We need to know what’s going on with her.”

So they made a decision: go home, then meet at Yuka’s house.

They needed answers.

—

Back at the hideout, Mikuya sat in silence again. Snow still fell outside, and she sat beside the broken window, watching.

Then a sound—footsteps. She turned her head.

“Kaito.”

He walked in, brushing snow from his coat. “You’re back.”

She nodded. “No information. Just cursed energy and silence.”

Kaito leaned against the wall. “The Agency’s adapting fast. They’re using cursed energy now… like it’s second nature. It’s spreading.”

Mikuya frowned. “That’s bad.”

Kaito’s eyes drifted to the floor. “I wonder how Sora’s holding up in all this.”

There was a pause. Then Mikuya spoke. Hesitantly.

“Kaito… I got a message.”

He looked up. “From who?”

“Yuka.”

He blinked. “Yuka?”

“She’s… a friend. From before.”

“What did she say?”

“She asked me to meet her. At the old mountain we used to go to.”

Kaito straightened. “Are you going?”

“Yes.”

“But… if she knows the hideout, why not just come here?”

“That’s what feels off.” Mikuya’s voice was low. “Why there? Why now?”

Kaito was silent for a moment, then stepped closer.

“If you’re going… be careful.”

Mikuya nodded. “It’s in the evening.”

Kaito frowned. “Evening? It’s already getting dark.”

“She said to meet then.”

Another pause. Kaito finally gave her a soft smile, though his eyes held concern. “Then go. But promise me something… stay sharp. Something about this feels wrong.”

Mikuya stood. “I will.”

Kaito picked up his coat again. “I need to head to the Agency—there’s a meeting.”

They walked toward the exit together. The snowfall was heavier now.

Before they parted ways, Kaito looked back once more.

“Mikuya… just be careful. Okay?”

She nodded.

Then they vanished into the snow.

Nene, Hana, and Emiko had changed out of their school uniforms and met in front of Yuka’s house as the sun dipped low behind the snow-covered roofs. None of them spoke much—they were still processing the strangeness of the day. Together, they walked up the path and knocked on the door.

Yuka’s mother opened it with a warm, slightly surprised smile. “Oh, girls! Are you here for Yuka?”

“Is Yuka here?” Nene asked, her voice a little hesitant.

Yuka’s mom blinked. “She’s not with you?”

Hana’s brows furrowed. “No… she left school right after it ended.”

“She came home for a bit,” Yuka’s mom said, now growing worried. “But she didn’t say anything, just changed and left again. I thought she went to be with you all.”

The three girls exchanged uneasy glances.

“She didn’t,” Emiko whispered.

“Is something wrong?” Yuka’s mom asked, noticing their expressions.

“No… we’ll call her later,” Nene said quickly. “Thank you, auntie.”

They left in silence. But as they turned a corner away from the house, Nene suddenly stopped. “Something’s not right.”

Hana nodded. “She’s been acting weird for days… and now this?”

“Where could she have gone?” Emiko’s voice trembled with uncertainty.

They stood under the dim streetlight as snow drifted gently around them, their panic rising like a silent wave. Deep down, each of them felt it—something terrible was coming.

Meanwhile, in the Agency’s inner halls, Kaito entered the meeting room. Renzo, Lady Hisoka, Takahiro, Hiroki, and several high-ranking officers were already seated around the circular table. The air was heavy, and no one spoke at first.

Kaito nodded at them and took his seat.

Moments later, Daigo stepped in, his expression unreadable, and sat without a word.

Renzo leaned forward. “So… what’s the occasion?”

Daigo began, voice low but steady. “This is about the soldiers’ cursed energy training. We need progress reports from each division. Kaito, Takahiro, Renzo, Hiroki… tell me how your units are adapting.”

Takahiro answered first. “My unit… average. Some are learning quickly. Others are still struggling.”

Renzo smirked. “Same here. A few are ahead of the curve, but most need more pressure.”

Lady Hisoka folded her hands. “Mine are more obedient than skilled. They’re progressing, but slowly.”

Kaito sighed. “Some of mine show potential, but they’re reckless. Using cursed energy without understanding it is dangerous.”

Hiroki shrugged. “Half of them are useful. The rest? Dead weight.”

Daigo listened quietly, nodding. “I see…”

Far from the tense meeting, Mikuya walked alone through the crowded city streets. Snow continued to fall, covering the concrete in white. Wrapped in her black coat, she passed the blinking lights of cafés and shops, her eyes distant and sharp.

She reached the edge of the city just as the sky turned silver-gray, blending into the snow-covered mountains ahead. Her boots crunched softly on the untouched path. This place… it had once been a sanctuary.

Memories flooded back as she walked.

There, among the trees, she had once laughed freely with Yuka, Nene, Hana, and Emiko. They had climbed these hills together, escaping the chaos of life. It was on this mountain where they’d once promised to remain best friends forever. No matter what.

She saw the flashes in her mind—the picnic blanket, the shared snacks, the loud laughter, the whispered secrets beneath a shared sky.

But tonight, everything felt cold. Quiet. Empty.

The world had changed.

As Mikuya reached the summit, moonlight bathed the snow-covered field ahead. The trees cast long, dancing shadows, and the air was sharp and still.

Then, her eyes locked onto a figure standing alone near the edge of the cliff—partially cloaked in shadow.

Yuka.

Her dark coat fluttered in the wind. Her face was unreadable, emotionless beneath the pale glow of the moon.

The two girls stood in silence for a moment.

Only the sound of snow falling filled the space between them.

Mikuya narrowed her eyes.

“…Yuka.”

—