Out of reach

A splintering crack of wood. Then a scream.

Atsunori doesn't think—he sprints.

They reach the Main House just in time to see a blood-soaked Tengu burst through a wall and launch into the sky.

No way…

Don't tell me he—

"Go!" Avery shouts, yanking him into motion. They race across the courtyard with several others close by. His steps grow stronger, faster—muscles flooding with power. Every stride is a demand to catch him, now or never.

Because a cold suspicion gnaws at him—Kairi might have already won.

Avery vaults onto his back.

"What are you—"

"Keep running." No hesitation. He trusts her.

More guards and Munakata join the pursuit, firing arms and hurling spells. Most flash past harmlessly—the few that land barely stagger the Tengu.

The estate wall looms ahead. Solid timber. Atsunori lowers his head to break through—

—but a titanic black bear barrels past in a blur of fur and muscle.

CRASH.

The wall erupts around—splinters and dust exploding outward as he tears a path open.

Atsunori and the others dive through the breach.

The bear lies slumped aside, blood-flecked splinters clinging to his fur. Their eyes meet for the briefest moment. Both exchange a nod before Atsunori proceeds downhill.

They tear through mud and undergrowth. Trees whip past too quickly. Someone beside them yells and disappears into cracking wood.

A slip—Atsunori slams through a trunk like paper, then grabs another tree to keep himself from falling. Yanks it half out of the earth.

By the time they hit the street, only three other Munakata remain close. The rest are gone—swallowed by the slope.

Avery coughs, still clinging to his back.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Don't worry. Keep moving."

Kairi is getting farther. Higher.

"I'll bring him down," snarls the weasel shaped Yokai with blades for paws.

"Wait—"

She doesn't. Like wind, she rockets up a skyscraper, vanishing with every explosive leap—then reappears behind Kairi, striking. He flinches.

Her figure appears on the building across the street, then vanishes once more—

And Kairi's claw clamps around her throat mid-air. With a brutal sideways throw, he hurls her through glass, into the building's interior.

The dog-like Yokai beside them lets out a whimper. He's ready to do something stupid.

"Don't!" Atsunori barks. "He'll pick us off if we act recklessly."

A growl—reluctant obedience.

Atsunori huffs. "Avery, any plans?"

"Almost done. Give me a hand."

With a groan, she hoists a massive crossbow over his shoulder—easily over a meter long.

"Pull it back," she says. "I'll shoot."

He strains, hauls the rope-thick string into place, and locks it.

"Why not a rifle?" He grunts.

"Do you know how guns work, piece by piece? Because I sure don't."

The last companion—a creepy woman feral on all fours—hisses. "He's getting away! Don't you dare miss."

"Bring that bitch down," the dog snarls. "I'll tear him to pieces."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

All eyes were on me.

Their faith. Their expectation. Their fear.

I couldn't miss—failure wasn't an option.

My hands slick with sweat. My breath shallow and fast. Kairi was so far away he looked smaller than an apple.

How am I supposed to hit that?

I couldn't. I wasn't good enough. Just a worthless—

"Avery."

Atsunori's voice cut through the panic.

"Let me handle it."

Atsun…

You'd rather take the shot yourself…

The blame.

Than let me carry that weight.

It would've been so easy to hand it over and let myself fail quietly.

But knowing he wouldn't hate me if I missed…

That alone steadied my breath—though my hands kept shaking.

Kairi stood over a hundred yards and rising. He flew straight, arrogant with distance.

Wind roared. There was no way to measure it, except through his robes. The flutter, the drag—there was a pattern.

After an inhale, my heartbeat fell into rhythm with Atsunori's pounding steps.

Time slowed and the world froze into a single image.

I saw my arrow fly—and miss.

Then another.

Dozens.

Thousands.

Every failure filling my sight—every arrow except one.

One that grazed his wing.

I locked onto that lone success, and all other mirages unraveled.

The arrow reversed through the air—back to a second crossbow beside mine—half-present, half-future.

My weapon aligned with it. Perfect overlap. The ghost's trigger depressed—I pulled mine.

Two arrows fired as one, turning possibility into certainty.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Kairi staggers mid-flight—then drops fast.

At the last moment, wings flare to break his fall, crashing into a rough tumble across the street.

Before he can fully rise, the dog streaks past viciously—fangs tearing a gap straight through his wing.

"Agh!" Kairi staggers upward, raising his guard.

Atsunori and the feral Yokai woman fan out around Kairi, forming a triangle with the dog. All three hold distance, awaiting the right moment.

Avery slips from Atsunori's back, taking a few steps behind.

The pain in Kairi shifts into a crooked smile. "I really can't get rid of you, huh?" His eyes flick between them—dog, Yokai woman, Avery. "And a fair fight would be dull anyway."

People are gathering. Curious. Unaware that—

Shit.

Atsunori shouts. "Stay back! This man is—"

"No one move!" Kairi's voice booms over his, arm snapping toward the largest cluster of bystanders.

Some flee. Too many do not.

"That goes for you too, sweetheart." His focus goes behind Atsunori, to Avery. "Drop the weapon. Walk to me."

"The order, Atsunori, " the dog growls.

"Don't," Avery says, voice level. She walks past Atsunori—slow.

When she passes, her whisper brushes his ear: "Use me as a hostage. He still wants me."

He acts. Arm around her neck, tightening just enough. "Release them or I break her!"

Kairi's eyes widen—then soften in amusement. "Oh, please. Unless Tomoe was breathing down your neck, you'd never kill her."

Then his head tilts, one finger to his cheek. "Actually… maybe not even then." A low chuckle. "Nice try, Atchan. Cute bluff."

"That's fine," Avery says.

She peels his arm away, still calm.

Her hidden hand rises—holding a shard of metal to her own throat.

"Mine isn't a bluff."

Atsunori's breath catches. "Avery, don't—"

"Silence," Kairi snaps, flicking his fingers—a reminder of the innocents he holds hostage.

Then he meets Avery's eyes, unblinking.

The stare is long and heavy.

A silent battle.

Finally—his arm lowers.

"You're something else," he murmurs. "You figured me out from a casual meeting. Lured me to a trap like a con artist. Shot me like a sniper. And came up with this stunt in seconds."

He shakes his head, palms raised in resignation. "At this point, I'm not sure who's a bigger nuisance, you or Atchan."

His hand swats toward the civilians. "All of you, move along. Go, shoo." He then rolls his shoulders, loosening them. "Guess we're doing this the hard way."

With a nod, Avery opens her hand.

The blade falls…

… hits the ground…

… and vanishes.

In that heartbeat—everyone moves at once.

Avery retreats to her crossbow. The dog lunges at Kairi—but he kicks it aside without even looking. The beastly woman circles him, sharply skittering left and right before she leaps. She catches his wrists, but their struggle is brief. He twists, forcing her down with brute efficiency.

Atsunori charges, tackling Kairi. Momentum carries them back—then the world flips. Atsunori crashes into the asphalt, cracking it.

The woman shrieks. A sickening snap echoes. Kairi is twisting her arms into impossible angles, holding her rigid and helpless.

Atsunori rises, but Kairi yanks the woman between them like a shield. Her fangs lash at Kairi—feral, trying to bite—until his forehead crashes into hers. She goes limp.

An arrow hits Kairi's back with such force he staggers, releasing his grip. The dog barrels past again, jaws tearing a chunk from his shoulder. Atsunori follows with a punch aimed at his jaw—but their eyes meet an instant before the impact.

His fist connects… but the hit sends Kairi away only because wind erupts from beneath him. He tumbles across the street, streaks of blood marking each bounce, until he smashes against a parked car and dangles there, head low.

The dog charges again—

"Stop! It's a trap."

Too late. Kairi whips a kick upward. The animal flings skyward and smashes through a high window.

Kairi wheezes, blood wetting his teeth. He glances at Avery's crossbow. Then at Atsunori. A grin splits his face.

Then he's off, sprinting toward the nearest alley.

Bastard!

Both follow, Avery abandoning her heavy weapon.

The alley narrows. Kairi darts down a left passage. Atsunori rounds the corner—where a slicing gust tears open his jaw. Blood fills his mouth, but he pushes forward.

Kairi twists deeper into the maze of alleys. Atsunori rounds the next intersection, arms raised. A brutal kick slams into his gut. He lands on Avery, pinning her beneath him.

His enemy rains down a flurry of strikes—precise, fast, unrelenting—leaving no room to rise.

Blood splashes. Teeth scatter. The alley echoes with the violence. Yet Atsunori finds no opening, Kairi's speed and efficiency keep him locked down.

Something presses on his waist—Avery slipping him a blade. He slashes at the next kick, biting deep into Kairi's heel. Atsunori surges up, tackling him hard into the ground.

Opponent pinned, he cocks his fist and drives it down. But Kairi twists beneath him—Atsunori's hit cracks the asphalt instead. In the same instant, fingers spear into his throat.

Air vanishes. Panic floods his brain.

Darkness devours his vision next. Both his eyes burn with stabbing pain. His scream chokes into silence. The world reels, and a wall slams against his head. He feels Kairi twisting away and lunges blindly, fingers catching only fabric as it rips free in his hand.

"No! Stay away or I—" Avery's warning breaks off with a dull, heavy thud.

"Don't touch her, you—" Another spike of agony drives into his skull. Something sharp, in both sockets, pain numbing through.

Kairi's voice slices through the ringing blackness:

"As blind as you still are… When this cult finally collapses, I hope you begin to see truth. And that you find a cause actually worth bleeding for."

Footsteps. Uneven, but fading fast.

Ripping free whatever's lodged in his eyes, Atsunori blindly staggers through trash and walls, chasing the retreating noise—which grows quieter, then dies.

When sight returns, he bursts into the street—just in time to see Kairi climb into a random car.

His desperate lunge falls short, missing the vehicle by inches.

Charging into the flow of traffic, Atsunori tears the driver out of the next car—only for a distant windslash to rip its tires apart.

"Damn it all!"

By the time he throws himself into another vehicle, Kairi's ride has sunk into the endless sprawl, swallowed by neon haze and rushing engines. The city offers a thousand nooks to vanish into—he knows that well.

Atsunori still gives chase, praying to anything that may listen to lead him through the correct path. Doesn't even notice his transformation recede, a part of him that has already given up.

Intersections blur past as horns shriek around like alarms of his failure. Red lights mean nothing. Metal screams when he scrapes along another car. The steeling wheel shakes under his white-knuckled grip, and his pulse hammers in his ears louder than the screams behind him.

The inevitable comes fast.

A wrong turn. Screeching brakes. The sudden weightlessness before impact.

The world flips—glass rains. The car folds around him with a grinding roar that smothers everything.

Silence drops like a rock.

For a heartbeat, he doesn't know why he's here. What he's running after. What he's trying so hard for.

Then pain blooms again—not from his body, but from his mind.

The image of the dog and the weasel surfaces, victims of the same brutal mistake. And everyone else who suffered because of his weakness—the Kotoro Kotoro, the Onikuma, the Nukekubi, the Kotengu, the Namahage, the Tsuchigumo, the gate guards… the Ningyo doctor…

Their names are burned into his memory, though speaking them—even internally—feels like insult.

And beneath that, a hollow, deeper pang—the Elders. Pillars without whom everything will crumble. Faces he may never see again.

Then…

Mistress Tomoe, turning her head away.

And Avery—her scream cut short.

His breath shudders. His hands tremble as they slip off the wheel. He stares at his reflection in the cracked windshield. Not an open scratch, all old blood dried—yet filthy, pathetic, useless.

The truth caves in: he failed them.

Failed her.

Failed everything a Munakata is meant to stand for.

His head sinks against the shredded seat… and he stops trying.