Before Going Far Away

The evening sun slowly sank beyond the curtain of the sky.

One by one, faint stars began forming small lines, preparing to welcome the arrival of the moon.

At the secret gate of the slums, a raggedly cloaked man could be seen passing through.

The man walked slowly toward a shabby inn, gathered all of his belongings from his room, and then hurried toward one place—the hideout of the child informants.

After Ayato had vanished for several days without a word, Faaja and the child informants gathered at the secret base every day, sharing information about the whereabouts of their so-called savior.

“How is it? Did you find anything?”

“No, I already checked the places he often visits, but I couldn’t find him!”

“I even tried asking the innkeeper—she said Bin-nii-chan hasn’t come back for days.”

One after another, the children shared their reports in anxiety, until one boy blurted out:

“He’s abandoned us all…”

“No, that’s not true!”

“You’re wrong, Alex-kun! Onii-san would never—”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?! You can’t find him anywhere! That’s proof he abandoned us, just like our parents did before!”

“Alex-kun...”

The room fell silent after Alex’s outburst. Some tried to hold back their sorrow and disappointment, but tears welled up.

“Huu... huwaaaah!”

“Hwaaaaah!”

Like dominoes, one child’s crying triggered another, until the hideout was filled with a chorus of sobs.

“All of you…”

Even Faaja couldn’t stop her tears as they streamed down her cheeks. But then, a man’s voice cut through the cries, forcing the wails to halt.

“You’re all being too noisy...”

Recognizing that voice, the children froze and turned toward the sound. But before Faaja could face him directly, the man wrapped his arm around her neck.

“Eh... Onii-san, what are you—”

At first gentle, the grip startled Faaja. But soon it tightened. “Ugh... it hurts... onii-san...” Her comfort turned into a cry of pain.

“Bin-nii-chan! Why does onee-chan look like she’s in pain—”

THUD!

Before the boy could finish, a sack was hurled at them.

The bag hit the ground with a heavy sound and burst open, weapons scattering across the floor.

Swords, spears, arrows, daggers, old and new, lay sprawled across the hideout. Ayato barked his command.

“Pick one up quickly... or you’ll die.”

“Huuu, huwaaaaah!”

Instead of obeying, several children broke into hysterical sobs, terrified by the tension. Ayato only tightened his grip on Faaja’s neck.

“Onii-san... why?”

“No reason in particular.”

“Urghhh!”

His chokehold grew harsher, until Faaja gasped for breath and began to struggle.

No other choice, huh...

“It seems you won’t understand unless I show you directly.”

Ayato loosened his grip slightly, just enough for Faaja to cough. In that moment, he pulled a dagger from his waist and grabbed her left hand.

“If you won’t resist... I’ll kill you all!”

The blade pierced through Faaja’s palm—“Ugh!” Blood spurted out. At the same instant, Ayato shattered a green stone in his other hand. Crack. A glow crawled over Faaja’s skin; the torn flesh closed as though sewn from within. Her breath hitched, then steadied.

The children shrieked louder, some bolting from the hideout, others too weak to move, staring at Ayato in terror.

Didn’t work, huh... but at least I tried... hoo.

“Seems there’s at least one with guts. If I’m not mistaken—your name’s Alex?”

“L-let go of Faaja-onee-chan! You villain!”

Hands trembling, Alex pointed a dagger at Ayato. But Ayato easily dodged and struck him with the back of his hand, sending the boy sprawling.

“Ugh!”

“So aside from Alex, no one else—”

“Hiyaaaaah!”

A young girl grabbed a spear and charged at him.

“Heh, not bad.”

Her stiff thrust was effortlessly avoided. Ayato hooked her ankle, making her tumble.

One by one, the children began picking up weapons, surrounding Ayato with shaky determination.

But they were still just children. Even when outnumbered, Ayato subdued them easily, knocking them down with heavy blows—enough to hurt, but not to kill.

In the chaos, one child rushed to Faaja, who was still clutching her bloodied hand.

“Faaja-chan, are you alright?!”

“Ugh... it still hurts...?”

Her confusion deepened when she looked at her palm.

“The hole... is gone?”

Her gaze fell upon the shattered, faintly glowing green stone lying nearby.

“Forget that, Faaja-chan! We need to run! If we stay, that maniac will kill us!”

But Faaja only sat there, eyes fixed on Ayato as he struck the children down one after another.

“Forget him, Faaja-chan! Let’s—”

“No. I’ll stay here till the end. You can run, Lune-chan.”

“You...”

“Uaaargh!”

It didn’t take long—every child who resisted collapsed, groaning in pain or unconscious.

So this is as far as it goes. That’s enough.

“Listen well! Consider yourselves lucky I didn’t kill a single one of you! From tomorrow onward, don’t ever expect me to come back here to give you hope for tomorrow! I’m done! This is goodbye!”

Not one of them replied. They only glared with hatred as Ayato turned away.

Hatred. Disappointment. Despair. Distrust. Every look burned into him.

He was used to those feelings now. Yet deep down, he still hoped—hoped that these children would live on and find a better tomorrow.

As he stepped into a dark alley, a girl’s voice stopped him.

“Wait! Bin onii-san!”

“I knew it. You’d be the first to notice.”

“Onii-san... you did this on purpose, didn’t you? Why?”

“No reason. The only person you can ever truly rely on is yourself. Trusting others means accepting you’ll be betrayed one day. And when betrayal comes... it’s your life on the line.”

“But... it doesn’t have to be this way, does it?”

“Faaja, I won’t be staying in this city any longer.”

“No... that can’t be...”

Ayato tossed a small pouch at her feet. Clink.

“Faaja... I leave them all to you. Use what I’ve left as best you can. And if fate allows... let’s feast together again, like that night.”

Without turning back, Ayato walked away. His decision was firm—this was their farewell, for now.

Faaja smiled bravely, watching him go. And when his figure finally vanished, her tears broke free.

“I... I’ll always be waiting for that day to come!”