Chapter 4: A Normal day? Not for Shadows…
-Time: 6:00 AM-
-Location: Akane Nishino(mura?)'s home-
-Date: Friday, a chilly day in November-
Akane Nishino's alarm buzzed softly, rousing her from a dreamless sleep. She blinked groggily at the ceiling, momentarily disoriented. The faint hum of Tokyo's morning life seeped through the thick glass windows of her room. Slowly, she sat up, pushing the pristine white duvet aside.
Her gaze drifted to the framed family photo on her bedside table. It was taken years ago during one of the rare family vacations her parents had managed to arrange. Her father wore a stiff smile, her mother looked distracted even as she posed, and her brother, Akira, stood slightly apart, as if reluctant to be part of the scene.
Akane stared at her own younger self in the photo—a bright, cheerful child who hadn't yet understood the distance that existed between her family members.
Akane groaned, she really didn't want to get up.
But this was her sleepy self talking, she had responsibilities to get to, people to talk to, life to live.
Still… these blankets were so warm!
Willing herself out of bed, she went to her bathroom with her day's clothes, her school uniform. Another day awaited.
~!~
Breakfast was quiet as always. The large dining table, an extravagant piece of dark mahogany, was designed for eight but often seated only one. Akane's parents were still overseas, their business ventures keeping them perpetually away from home.
They called occasionally, but the conversations were brief and formal. Questions about her grades, her career, and her health were asked with polite interest, but the warmth of genuine concern was absent. Akane knew they cared in their own way—providing her with a luxurious home, the best schools, and endless opportunities—but their love felt transactional, not emotional.
Her brother Akira, older by four years, wasn't much different. Now studying at a prestigious university, he called even less than their parents. The two of them had never been close, their relationship marked by a quiet indifference. Akira was always busy, always focused on his academic pursuits, leaving little room for familial bonds.
Akane sometimes wondered if the detachment ran in the family, an unspoken trait passed down like an inherited heirloom.
A buzzing alarm on her smartphone reminded her that it was time to head to school.
Finishing up what was left of her breakfast, Akane stood from her place at the dining table, a hired housekeeper cleaning up after her.
Saying farewell to the staff attending her, Akane rushed out to her family's driver, onwards to school.
~!~
-Time: 8 AM, on the dot-
-Location: School-
-Date: Friday, a chilly day in November-
By the time she arrived at school, Akane had pushed her thoughts on her family aside. The strict schedules and endless expectations of her high school life didn't leave much room for introspection.
She immersed herself in her studies, acing a morning math test with practiced ease. During lunch, she sat with her usual group of friends, joining their conversations about celebrities, upcoming exams, and trivial gossip. She smiled and laughed when appropriate, but her mind remained elsewhere.
Her classmates admired her, envied her, even idolized her—but none of them truly knew her. Not the real Akane, the one who yearned for something more meaningful than the hollow routines of her daily life.
She noticed that Minoru wasn't here today either. She would say this was unusual, but the boy that was her neighbor in homeroom wasn't exactly the most stellar when it came to coming to school.
He was good at school when he was here though, which made her wonder if he was a genius who hated school or a delinquent who happened to be book smart.
When she thought about it, this would make him average. Good enough schoolwork and having just bad enough truancy cancelled each other out, making him an average schoolboy, statistic wise.
Of course, Akane pondered, this wouldn't make any university admit him with open arms, unless he was a certified genius in something they couldn't do without. Unless he was a scholar or a super athlete, she doubted any prestigious university would scout him.
The bell rang.
She had her part to play as the class representative now.
~!~
-Time: 3 PM, end of School Day-
-Location: Front of School-
-Date: Friday, day finally warmed up in November-
Once classes ended, Akane changed into a casual yet elegant outfit for her afternoon commitments. Being a rising teen actress came with its own set of challenges, but she had learned to navigate them with a blend of professionalism and charm.
The car ride to the television studio in was uneventful, the streets bustling with the usual chaos of Tokyo's rush hour. Akane stared out the window, her thoughts drifting.
Despite the success she had achieved, a part of her felt incomplete. She couldn't pinpoint the source of the emptiness, but it lingered like a shadow, always present, always out of reach.
The day took an unexpected turn just as Akane stepped out of the studio.
The ground trembled beneath her feet, the vibrations faint at first but quickly growing in intensity. Her heart raced as she clutched the side of a parked car for support. Around her, people screamed, and glass shattered as the earthquake tore through the city.
The air filled with an ominous rumble, and in the distance, Akane saw a strange, faintly glowing light—a surreal purple hue that flickered on the horizon.
Her first thought was of her parents and brother. Were they safe? The answer came almost immediately: her parents were overseas, far from the quake's epicenter, and Akira was at his university, also likely unaffected.
And yet, the thought of them stirred little more than a fleeting concern. She realized with a pang of guilt how emotionally distant they had become.
~!~
-Time: 5 PM, after her acting job ended for the day-
-Location: Tokyo streets, currently disarrayed-
-Date: Friday, day is chilling again-
The journey home was slow and tense. Akane's driver navigated through streets choked with debris and panicked civilians. The radio crackled with reports of the earthquake's aftermath, but there was no mention of the strange light Akane had seen.
When they finally reached her neighborhood, Akane felt a momentary relief. Her house stood untouched, a stark contrast to the destruction she had witnessed elsewhere. But that relief was short-lived.
A strange feeling prickled at the back of her neck as she stepped out of the car. Something was off, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
As she walked toward her front door, her gaze was drawn to the abandoned construction site nearby. A faint silhouette stood amidst the wreckage, barely visible in the dim light of the setting sun.
Akane's breath caught in her throat. A familiar figure was nearby, his jacket hoodie off from his head, leaving his head exposed to the cool air.
He didn't look too good. His body was spasming way too quickly for her to not be concerned about him.
"Minoru?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She didn't believe it was him, but the figure looked remarkably like him.
Without thinking, she sprinted toward the site, her heart pounding. Ignoring her driver's panicked plea for her to come back, she made her way to him. The figure became clearer as she approached—a boy, slumped against a pile of broken beams and scattered debris. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his face pale.
"Minoru!" she called out, dropping to her knees beside him.
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused but alive.
"Akane…" His voice was weak, a mere whisper.
Tears welled in her eyes as she took in his battered form. Memories of their past encounters flooded her mind—how he had saved her from kidnappers, how he had always seemed unshakable. Seeing him like this was almost unbearable.
"What happened to you?" she asked, her voice trembling. "You look like you've been through hell."
Minoru didn't answer immediately. His head lolled to the side, his breathing shallow.
A burst of panic tried to set into Akane, but she brushed it off. Her adrenaline pumping in her body stopped any sort of panic setting in. Instead, determination set in.
"Don't worry," Akane said firmly, brushing away her tears. "I'll get you out of here. Just hang on."
She slipped an arm around his shoulders, helping him to his feet. It wasn't easy—Minoru was heavier than he looked, and Akane wasn't exactly strong. But determination drove her forward.
The journey back to her house was grueling, each step a struggle as she half-dragged, half-carried Minoru through the quiet streets. Her arms trembled with effort, but she refused to stop.
By the time they reached her door, she was on the verge of collapse. Somehow, she managed to get him inside and into one of the guest bedrooms. She laid him down carefully, her chest heaving from exertion.
She noted that none of the staff was around, but she figured they left for the day, their contract fulfilled. No worries, she could do this.
As she looked at him, battered yet alive, a thought crossed her mind—a mix of relief and fear. Whatever had brought him to this state, it wasn't over.
For now, though, he needed rest. And Akane was determined to protect him, no matter the cost.
~!~
-Time: Unknown, approximately early to late evening-
-Location: Akane's home-
-Date: Friday, chilly night in November-
Akane sat on the edge of the guest bed, her hands trembling as she watched Minoru's shallow breathing. His battered body lay on the soft mattress, a sharp contrast to the pristine sheets. The stark whiteness of the room seemed to amplify the bloodstains on his torn clothing.
She had done it—she'd gotten him back to her house, barely, but now came the harder part. Minoru wasn't just exhausted; he was hurt, and badly so. Her chest tightened at the sight of him in this vulnerable state, so unlike the figure of strength she had always known.
Her mind raced with what to do next. She wasn't a medic, but she knew a few things. Her older brother, Akira, was in med school and had often come home ranting about his coursework. Over time, she'd picked up snippets—mostly unwillingly—about how to deal with injuries.
"I can do this," she whispered to herself, though her voice betrayed her uncertainty.
Akane stepped into her ensuite bathroom, grabbing supplies—a first aid kit, warm water, and clean towels. As she returned to the guestroom, she hesitated, her eyes falling on Minoru's tattered clothes.
She couldn't tend to his wounds with him still wearing those. Her cheeks flushed as the realization sank in.
"Oh no…" she muttered under her breath.
Taking a deep breath, she moved closer, trying to focus on the task at hand. Gently, she started with his jacket, carefully peeling it off his arms to avoid aggravating any unseen injuries. His shirt came next, or what was left of it—it was practically in shreds.
Her face burned as she saw the bruises and cuts that marred his torso. "Focus, Akane," she whispered, shaking her head. "This isn't about you."
The worst wound was a deep gash on his side, just below his ribs. Blood had soaked through the fabric, the dried crimson crusting over the tear in his skin. Akane winced at the sight, her stomach churning, but she forced herself to stay calm. It looked like a bullet grazed him, and it was cauterized haphazardly.
She cleaned the wound with the warm water, working carefully to avoid causing him further pain. He flinched slightly in his unconscious state, and she froze, waiting to see if he would wake. When he did not, she continued, applying antiseptic and bandaging the injury as securely as she could.
With the worst of his injuries addressed, but his clothes were beyond saving. Akane looked at the ruined fabric with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. She couldn't leave him in them, not like this.
Her mind darted to her brother's room. Akira's old clothes—he hadn't stayed here in years, but his belongings were still in his closet.
A quick trip upstairs later, Akane returned with a set of loose pajamas, faded but clean. She set them on the bed and glanced back at Minoru.
"I guess I have no choice," she muttered, though her voice sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
Her hands hovered over the waistband of his pants, her cheeks flaming red. "It's just clothes," she told herself. "Just like a mannequin… or a doll…"
Gingerly, she worked to remove his remaining clothing. Each movement felt excruciatingly slow, her nerves on edge the entire time. When she finally managed to get him fully dressed in Akira's old pajamas, she let out a long breath of relief, slumping back in the chair by the bed.
Her gaze fell on Minoru's peaceful face. He looked so different now—so vulnerable. Her heart ached at the thought of how much he must have gone through to end up here.
Satisfied that he was at least physically cared for, Akane turned her attention to his belongings. His torn clothing, bloodied and dirtied, was set aside for disposal. She folded what little of his gear remained intact, placing it neatly on the nightstand.
She pulled the blanket over him, tucking him in gently, and sat back to observe her work. For the first time since finding him at the construction site, she allowed herself to breathe.
"He's going to be okay," she whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it true.
Akane glanced at her phone, debating whether to call someone—her parents, her brother, maybe even the police. But something stopped her. This wasn't just about Minoru's injuries. Whatever had happened to him was far bigger than she could comprehend.
Her mind wandered to the strange purple light she had seen earlier. The earthquake, the explosion—were they all connected to him?
~!~
She sat by his bedside for hours, her thoughts a chaotic whirl. Occasionally, Minoru stirred, mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. Akane leaned in close, catching snippets—names, places, fragments of a story she couldn't piece together.
As the night wore on, her exhaustion caught up with her. She rested her head on the edge of the bed, her fingers lightly clutching the blanket.
"I don't know what you've gotten yourself into, Minoru," she murmured, her eyes heavy with sleep. "But you're not facing it alone. Not anymore."
The image of her parents flickered in her mind—her mother and father, distant as ever, absorbed in their overseas ventures. Would they even care if they knew what was happening? Her relationship with them felt like an empty shell, all surface and no substance.
And her brother Akira, always the prodigy, always so consumed with his studies. He would probably scold her for getting involved, tell her she was being reckless. But then again, he wasn't here. None of them were.
It was just her and Minoru, in this vast, empty house.
A faint smile touched her lips as she thought about the boy lying before her. Minoru wasn't perfect—he could be aloof, guarded, and frustratingly enigmatic. But he had always been there for her, even when no one else was.
Now, it was her turn.
Before drifting off to sleep, Akane reached out and placed a hand on Minoru's, a silent promise that she would do whatever it took to help him.
The night was still, the faint hum of Tokyo's distant chaos the only sound.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, Akane knew one thing for certain: she wouldn't let Minoru face them alone.
~!~
-Time: Unknown-
-Location: Unknown-
-Date: Unknown-
Minoru stood in a void, a space filled with a pale, shifting light. It was neither night nor day—just an endless, oppressive twilight. Before him, Umbra-03 drifted slowly, its small form moving just out of reach.
"Wait!" Minoru's voice echoed unnaturally, distorted in the silence. He broke into a sprint, the ground beneath him soft and uneven, as though he were running through a dreamscape of thick, invisible sand.
Umbra-03 didn't respond, its circular body pulsing faintly with light as it floated further away.
"You can't go!" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.
He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of its metallic frame, but it slipped from his grasp. His legs burned with effort, his lungs heaving, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't lose it again.
The light from Umbra-03 grew brighter, illuminating the space around him, and suddenly, the emptiness transformed.
He found himself back at the ruins of the Cult's facility. The crumbled walls loomed over him, twisted metal and shattered stone forming a chaotic landscape. Purple energy crackled in the air, and the distant hum of the unstable core resonated in his ears.
They were leaving the ruins, dodging gunfire from the Cult and running to escape Olivier's relentless pursuit.
Umbra-03 floated in front of him, its frame sparking, its movements erratic.
"No," Minoru whispered, his heart sinking.
The final moment came, the one he had tried to suppress. Umbra-03's small body detonated from a burst of gunfire hiding a well aimed sniper round and energy, the force throwing him backward. He hit the ground hard, his ears ringing, his vision blurred by the light of the explosion.
He lay there, staring up at the fractured sky, unable to move.
~!~
As the chaos faded, a figure emerged from the glow—a spectral image of Aurora, her translucent form walking through the ruins as though untouched by the destruction. She was not the hybridized abomination chained by the Cult. Instead, she was radiant, her long hair flowing like liquid starlight, her eyes piercing and sorrowful.
Aurora knelt beside him, her gaze soft but filled with a strange intensity.
"You're stronger than you know," she whispered, her voice carrying a melodic quality that resonated in his chest.
Minoru tried to move, to speak, but he was paralyzed, trapped within his broken body. Aurora extended a hand, her palm resting against his chest, and he felt a rush of warmth, a surge of energy that filled him to the core.
"This isn't just power," she said, her voice echoing. "It's a responsibility. To stand against them. To protect what they would destroy."
Her form began to dissolve into light, her essence flowing into him. He wanted to resist, to ask questions, to demand answers, but there was no time.
"Live," was her final word before she vanished entirely, leaving him alone in the void once more.
As the ruins faded, Minoru found himself standing on a featureless plane, a vast expanse of gray that stretched endlessly in every direction. A faint wind whispered through the space, carrying with it an uneasy tension.
Ahead of him stood Olivier.
She was dressed in her battle attire, her long knife gleaming in the dim light. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes locked onto his. There were no words, no preamble. She raised her blade, and he instinctively raised his baton, the two of them stepping into a silent stance.
The fight began.
Olivier moved like a shadow, her attacks swift and precise. Minoru countered with equal intensity, the baton in his hand moving faster than he thought possible. He could feel the strange energy within him, Aurora's power coursing through his veins, heightening his reflexes, sharpening his senses.
Their weapons clashed, sparks flying with each impact. Each strike from Olivier was calculated, meant to exploit a weakness, but Minoru matched her blow for blow.
As they fought, flashes of memories—not his own—flickered through his mind. He saw visions of a girl, much like Olivier, standing in a lush garden, laughing. He saw her face streaked with tears as she knelt before a shattered monument.
Olivier faltered for a moment, her movements slowing as a similar confusion seemed to grip her. Her eyes widened, as though she, too, was seeing something that didn't belong to her.
Their duel became a strange, almost synchronized dance, both lost in a haze of overlapping memories and emotions.
The fight ended abruptly. The gray plane disintegrated around them, fragments of the dreamscape falling away like ash. Minoru felt himself being pulled upward, the weight of the dream lifting from his chest.
He opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was the soft glow of a lamp, its warm light illuminating the guestroom. His body ached, his wounds reminding him of the reality he had returned to.
He turned his head slightly and saw Akane. She was seated in a chair beside the bed, her head resting on her folded arms, her breathing slow and steady. She had fallen asleep while keeping watch over him.
For a moment, Minoru simply stared at her, his mind still clouded by the remnants of the dream. The sight of her, so peaceful, so unaware of the chaos he carried, brought a strange sense of calm.
But it was fleeting.
The memories of the ruins, of Aurora, of Olivier, came rushing back. He clenched his fists, a determined look forming on his face.
"I won't let it end like this," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Akane stirred slightly at the sound, but she didn't wake.
Minoru allowed himself one more moment of rest, knowing that the path ahead would be anything but easy.
~!~
The soft glow of the lamp seemed to dim as Minoru lay back against the pillow, the ache in his body ebbing and flowing like a tide. The dream he had just emerged from clung to him, vivid and unrelenting. His fingers twitched involuntarily as he recalled the desperate chase after Umbra-03 and the strange, spectral form of Aurora.
Her words repeated in his mind, as if etched into his very being:"This isn't just power. It's a responsibility."
Responsibility.
The word resonated deeper than it should have, filling him with both determination and a lingering sense of unease. He rubbed his temples, trying to piece together the fragments of the dream.
What did he get himself into? He finally asked himself.
He was just a nobody. A nobody who wanted to rule the world from the shadows sure, but just a nobody!
Now?
He is now some champion of some long-forgotten past against a who knows how many millennia old cult of fanatics who have some very scary women assassins and guns. Lots and lots of guns!
This.
Was.
Awesome!
The Cult of Diabolos.
The name was new to him, but their methods were not. They were shadowy, ruthless, and terrifyingly advanced. The files he managed to decrypt hinted at projects that bordered on the supernatural: experiments with forbidden technology, attempts to harness powers beyond human comprehension, and whispers of something ancient stirring beneath it all.
Yet, as he leaned back in bed, letting the enormity of it all settle in, he felt something unexpected rise within him: exhilaration.
Minoru had always sought challenges. As a child, he devoured stories of heroes and villains, of battles waged against impossible odds. Growing up, he trained himself relentlessly—not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. He dreamed of becoming someone extraordinary, someone who could face anything and emerge victorious.
And now, here it was.
The Cult wasn't just another gang of thugs or corrupt officials. They were an ancient, organized force, wielding technology so advanced it seemed indistinguishable from magic. They had secrets buried so deep that even their fragmented remnants were enough to send shivers down the spine of any ordinary person.
But Minoru wasn't ordinary.
His fingers drummed against the table as he stared at the screen, a small smile creeping across his face.
"This is it," he murmured to himself. "This is the kind of enemy I've been waiting for."
And then, there was her.
Olivier.
The data files had only a few mentions of her, but even those were enough to paint a vivid picture. She wasn't just an operative of the Cult—she was their top assassin, a woman whose precision and lethality were the stuff of legend. One document described her as "a shadow given form, bound to the will of the Elders." Another simply referred to her as Umbra's Fang.
Minoru had faced skilled opponents before, but none like her. Their brief encounter at the ruins had shown him that much. She moved with an almost inhuman grace, her strikes honed to perfection. Every clash of his baton against her knife against his baton had sent shockwaves through his arms—not just from the physical impact, but from the realization that she was better. Faster. Stronger.
For most, that realization would have been terrifying. For Minoru, it was electrifying.
"She's dangerous," he muttered, leaning forward as his thoughts raced. "But that's what makes it interesting."
It wasn't just her skill that fascinated him. It was her resolve, the quiet intensity in her eyes. She wasn't some mindless killer; she was a force of nature, a storm with a purpose. And deep down, Minoru knew that facing her again would push him to his limits—and maybe even beyond them.
The more he thought about it, the more his heart raced. This wasn't just a fight for survival. It was a test, a chance to prove himself against an enemy that was everything he had ever dreamed of facing.
The Cult's terrifying technology? It only added to the stakes. The ancient, cryptic forces they were trying to awaken? That was just the backdrop to the real challenge.
Minoru didn't fear the Cult. He welcomed them.
His mind buzzed with plans and strategies. He thought of ways to counter their weapons, to exploit their weaknesses. He envisioned scenarios where he would outmaneuver Olivier, where he would turn her own precision against her.
And, somewhere in the depths of his mind, he acknowledged the risk.
He might not win. He might not survive.
But that didn't matter. What mattered was the fight itself—the thrill of standing against something so vast, so incomprehensibly powerful, and daring to challenge it.
The Cult thought they were untouchable. Olivier thought she was unstoppable.
But they hadn't faced him yet. Not at his fullest.
And he couldn't wait to prove them wrong.
~!~
But first…
Minoru let out a slow breath, trying to piece together the events that led him here. He remembered the ruins, the explosion, and collapsing at the construction site. Everything after that was a blur.
His gaze shifted to Akane. She looked peaceful, a stark contrast to how he felt inside. He noticed a faint smudge of dirt on her cheek and the way her clothes were slightly wrinkled, as if she hadn't taken time for herself in hours.
She brought me here,he realized.
The thought brought a pang of guilt. Akane shouldn't have been involved in any of this. Yet here she was, watching over him, her concern evident even in sleep.
As he adjusted his position, a soft clink caught his attention. On the bedside table lay a neatly folded shirt and pants that weren't his. He glanced down at himself and realized he was already wearing unfamiliar clothing—comfortable and slightly loose, but clean.
His face warmed slightly at the realization.
The movement must have stirred Akane, because she shifted in her sleep, her brow furrowing slightly before her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she looked disoriented, her gaze unfocused. Then she saw Minoru sitting up, and her expression shifted to relief.
"You're awake," she said softly, her voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and happiness.
"Yeah," Minoru replied, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. "Thanks for... well, everything."
Akane sat up straighter, brushing her hair out of her face. "You scared me, you know. I thought you were..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Never mind. Are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt?"
Minoru gave a small nod. "I'm fine. Just a bit sore."
"You should still take it easy," she said, her tone firm. "You were in really bad shape when I found you. I had to... well, clean you up and treat your wounds."
Minoru raised an eyebrow. "Clean me up?"
Akane's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. She looked away, focusing intently on the blanket. "You were covered in dirt and blood. I couldn't just leave you like that."
"Thanks," he said again, his voice softer this time.
Akane stood and moved to a small table in the corner of the room. It was cluttered with a first-aid kit, a bowl of water, and some neatly folded cloths. She returned to his side with a damp cloth, kneeling beside the bed.
"You still have a few scrapes that need cleaning," she said, her tone businesslike.
Minoru opened his mouth to protest, but the look she gave him silenced him. He sighed and relented, letting her dab at a small cut on his cheek.
"You're pretty good at this," he remarked.
Akane gave a small shrug. "My brother, Akira, used to get into fights a lot when we were younger. I picked up a few things taking care of him."
"Akira, huh?" Minoru asked, trying to distract himself from the stinging sensation.
"He's away at university now," Akane said, her voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "We don't talk much anymore. He's... busy."
Minoru noted the way her hands tightened slightly around the cloth. He didn't press further.
When Akane finished tending to his wounds, she stood and stretched, letting out a small yawn. "You should try to eat something," she said, glancing at him. "I'll make some soup. It's nothing fancy, but it'll help you get your strength back."
"Thanks," Minoru said, watching as she left the room.
He leaned back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. His body still felt heavy, but there was a new warmth in his chest—not from Aurora's power, but from something simpler.
~!~
The aroma of cooking filled the air as Minoru made his way to the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway, watching Akane work. She moved with quiet efficiency, stirring a pot on the stove while occasionally checking a bowl of chopped vegetables on the counter.
"You know," Minoru said, breaking the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen you cook before."
Akane jumped slightly, nearly dropping the spoon she was holding. She turned to face him, her cheeks flushing.
"Don't sneak up on me like that!" she said, her tone a mix of annoyance and embarrassment.
"Sorry," Minoru said, smirking. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Akane huffed and turned back to the stove. "You should be resting."
"I feel better," he said, stepping into the kitchen. "Besides, I couldn't resist the smell. What's on the menu?"
"Miso soup and rice," she replied. "It's simple, but it's all I could manage on short notice."
"It smells great," Minoru said, sitting down at the small table.
They ate in comfortable silence, the warmth of the food filling the room.
"This is really good," Minoru said, breaking the quiet.
"Thanks," Akane said, her voice soft. She looked down at her bowl, her expression thoughtful. "You know, you're the first person I've cooked for in a long time."
Minoru raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
She nodded. "My parents are always away on business, and Akira... well, he's not around anymore either. It's just me most of the time."
Minoru frowned. "That sounds lonely."
Akane gave a small shrug, trying to play it off. "I'm used to it."
Minoru didn't say anything, but he made a mental note of her words.
As the evening wore on, they found themselves back in the living room, the warmth of the meal lingering between them. Minoru's mind drifted to the dream again, to the responsibility that Aurora had left him with. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he knew he couldn't stay here forever.
"Thanks, Akane," he said, his voice quiet.
She looked at him, her expression softening. "You don't have to thank me. I just... I didn't want to lose you."
Her words hung in the air, unspoken emotions passing between them.
~!~
-Extra Chapter: How did these two meet again?-
Let's roll back the clock a bit, around the time Akane met Minoru.
-Time: 12:30 PM-
-Location: School, Main Hallway-
-Date: A cheery warm day in Spring, March-
The schoolyard buzzed with the familiar energy of another day. Students shuffled through the hallways, their chatter echoing against the pristine walls. Among them, Minoru Kageno strolled with his usual nonchalance, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, uninterested in anything specific, until a sudden voice broke through his thoughts.
"Minoru Kageno, right?"
He stopped, turning toward the sound. A girl stood there, her hands clasped in front of her, her posture timid but determined. She had long, dark hair that fell neatly past her shoulders, framing a face that seemed vaguely familiar. Her uniform was immaculate, her presence exuding a quiet grace.
"Yes?" Minoru replied, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm Akane Nishino," she said, her voice steady but polite. "I'm in Class 2-B. We've crossed paths before, but I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves."
Minoru frowned slightly, tilting his head. "Nishimiya? Nishikawa? Uh... Nishida?"
Akane's brow twitched, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. "It's Nishino," she repeated, her voice firmer.
"Right, Nishino." Minoru waved a hand dismissively, already turning to leave. "Got it."
"Wait a second!" Akane's voice sharpened, making him pause. "That's it? You can't even remember my name?"
"I did just now, didn't I?" Minoru said, glancing back at her. "Anyway, nice meeting you, Nishino... or whoever."
Without waiting for her response, he continued down the hall, leaving Akane staring after him, her fists clenching at her sides.
~!~
From that day on, Akane couldn't decide whether Minoru Kageno was oblivious or intentionally infuriating. He had a way of always seeming aloof, even when directly addressed. Whenever their paths crossed, he would nod in acknowledgment, but never more than that. Worse, he kept getting her name wrong.
"Nishiyama?"
"Nishitani?"
"Nish… something?"
Each misstep chipped away at her patience. She tried to focus on her studies, her part-time acting career, and her life outside of school, but somehow, Minoru's dismissive attitude lingered in the back of her mind.
Why couldn't he just remember her name?
~!~
-Time: 7 PM, Tokyo Time-
-Location: School, parking lot-
-Date: One warm dusk in August, almost the turn to Fall.-
One late afternoon, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the streets in shades of orange and pink, Akane walked briskly toward her family's car. She had stayed late at school for an acting rehearsal and was eager to get home.
Her steps quickened when she noticed two men lingering near the parking lot, their expressions too casual to be natural. Akane's heart skipped a beat as they glanced her way and began to approach.
"Hey there, missy," one of them said, his grin wide and unsettling. "You're Nishino, right? The actress? Must be nice having a family with deep pockets."
Akane froze, her grip tightening on her bag. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Oh, nothing much," the other man said, his voice slick with mock innocence. "Just a little… donation. Your folks won't mind, right?"
Before she could respond, one of them grabbed her arm. She yelped, struggling against his grip, but he was too strong. They dragged her toward a van parked nearby, with two others nearby keeping watch, ignoring her cries for help.
~!~
Inside the van, Akane sat bound and seething, her mind racing. The two men sat across from her, chatting like they didn't have a care in the world.
"Did you hear about that guy running around at night?" one of them asked, lighting a cigarette.
"The freak with the crowbar and baton? Yeah, I heard. Beats up punks for fun."
"Think he'll come after us?" the first man asked with a chuckle.
"Nah. We're too smart for that. Guy only goes after low-level trash. We're professionals."
They seemed so sure of that too.
Akane felt the cold, rough texture of the rope biting into her wrists as the van jolted over potholes, its wheels splashing through murky puddles. She struggled against her restraints, her mind racing with panic and anger. The two men sitting across from her paid no attention to her efforts, their conversation punctuated with smug chuckles.
"Keep squirming, princess," one of them said with a grin. "Doesn't matter how hard you try. No one's coming for you."
"Yeah," the other added, his voice dripping with mockery. "Your parents will pay up, and then we'll leave you somewhere nice and cozy. Nothing personal, just business."
Akane glared at them, her heart pounding. Her parents. She hadn't seen them in months—they were always abroad, handling their high-profile careers. She doubted they'd even notice her missing until someone informed them. The thought stung, but she shoved it aside, focusing on the rhythmic sound of the van's tires.
She memorized every turn the vehicle made, every bump in the road. A part of her clung to the hope that she'd get a chance to escape—or that someone might find her.
The van slowed, its headlights cutting through the foggy air as it approached the bay. A derelict warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted exterior blending into the shadowy landscape. The salty tang of the sea wafted through the open windows, mingling with the scent of oil and decay.
One of the kidnappers jumped out of the van, slamming the door shut behind him. "Bring her inside," he barked to his partner.
The second man yanked Akane to her feet, dragging her out of the van. She stumbled, her shoes scraping against the uneven pavement. Her captors marched her toward the warehouse, their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.
Inside, the warehouse was as decrepit as its exterior. Crates and rusted machinery were scattered haphazardly, and a few bare lightbulbs flickered above, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
They shoved her into a chair in the center of the room, tying her wrists and ankles tightly. She winced as the ropes cut into her skin, but her glare didn't waver.
"Stay put," one of the men said, grinning. "Not like you've got much choice."
The other laughed, pulling out his phone. "Time to make the call. Let's see how much her folks value their precious little actress."
As one of the men dialed, the other began pacing, his fingers fidgeting with a cigarette.
As if to relieve the boredom, the other two goons nearby Akane struck up a familiar conversation.
"You hear about that guy running around lately? The one with the mask?"
"The vigilante?" the man on the phone asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Freak with a crowbar and a baton. Keeps smashing up gangs like it's a hobby. Word is he's been seen near the docks."
"Relax," the first man scoffed, shaking his head. "Even if he's real, he's not coming here. This place is off the radar."
Akane's heart skipped a beat, hope flickering in her chest. Could it be true? Was someone out there who might come for her?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a distant sound—soft at first but growing louder. It was the metallic clang of something hitting the floor.
"What was that?" one of the men muttered, spinning toward the source of the noise.
"Probably a rat," the other replied dismissively. "This place is crawling with 'em."
But the noise came again, closer this time.
The man with the cigarette flicked it onto the ground, stamping it out. "I'll check it out," he said, pulling out a pipe from a nearby crate.
The man ventured into the shadows, his footsteps hesitant. The faint glow from the lightbulbs barely reached the far corners of the warehouse, leaving much of it cloaked in darkness.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice wavering. "Anyone there?"
Silence.
He took another step forward, and then another. His grip tightened on the pipe as his eyes darted around nervously.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with fluid precision. A crowbar swung upward, striking the man's hand and sending the pipe clattering to the ground.
The man screamed, clutching his wrist, but the figure didn't stop. A baton struck his leg, and he collapsed to the floor with a pained groan.
Back near Akane, the second man tensed at the sound of the struggle. He dropped his phone and grabbed a knife from his pocket, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room.
"Who's there?" he shouted, his voice trembling.
The figure stepped into the light, revealing a masked face, its eyes cold and calculating.
"Who the hell are you?" the man demanded, raising the knife. Two other men also held their pocket knives in what they thought was a threating manner.
The masked figure didn't reply. Instead, he moved swiftly, dodging the man's wild swing and disarming him with a well-placed strike. The knife clattered to the floor, and the man stumbled back, clutching his side. The other two kidnappers, like the cowards they were, ran out of the warehouse, probably to get backup and beat this hero to the ground.
Akane watched in awe and disbelief as the masked vigilante turned toward her.
The figure knelt, cutting the ropes around her wrists and ankles with practiced efficiency.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice low and even.
Akane shook her head, her voice caught in her throat.
"Then go," he said, helping her to her feet.
She hesitated; her legs shaky. "But—"
"Go," he repeated, his tone firm. "You don't want to be here when more of them show up."
Gathering her strength, Akane stumbled toward the exit. When she reached the doorway, she glanced back.
The masked vigilante was gone, leaving only the two unconscious men sprawled on the warehouse floor.
~!~
The walk home was a blur for Akane, her thoughts racing. The image of the masked figure stayed with her—the sharp eyes, the precise movements, the unmistakable aura of someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
Could it have been Minoru? The thought seemed ridiculous, yet she couldn't shake it. His voice, his height, even the way he moved—it all felt familiar.
But if it was him, why would he hide his identity? And how had he even known where to find her?
As she slipped into her house, exhaustion washing over her, one thing became clear: whoever the masked vigilante was, he wasn't just a shadow in the night. He was someone who had crossed into her life for a reason, even if that reason remained shrouded in mystery.
And for now, that shadow lingered, a silent guardian watching from the darkness.
~!~
The warehouse incident left an indelible mark on Akane Nishino. She couldn't forget the masked figure who had rescued her with such effortless precision. Despite her initial doubts, she couldn't shake the feeling that it had been Minoru.
The following days were a haze of anxiety and determination. Sleep was elusive as her mind replayed the events over and over—the cold ropes biting into her wrists, the metallic clangs echoing through the dark, and the figure moving like a shadow through the chaos.
School, acting, and even her tenuous relationship with her family faded into the background. She found herself replaying old memories, moments when Minoru had been around but always distant. His reserved nature had often left her wondering what lay behind his quiet demeanor, but now she felt as if she'd glimpsed a part of him he never wanted anyone to see.
It wasn't enough to wonder. She had to know.
After days of internal debate, Akane finally decided to seek him out. The problem was, Minoru wasn't exactly easy to find. He had no social media presence, and his sparse interactions at school gave her little to go on. But she remembered the last place she'd seen him before everything had changed: the old construction site. It was rumored to be an up-and-coming middle class area, but plans didn't pan out, sadly. Talks of it being converted to storage areas were the local gossip.
The site was a short walk from her house, but the journey felt much longer. Each step was heavy with anticipation and uncertainty. What would she say to him? Would he even acknowledge her?
When she arrived, the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and concrete dust. The skeletal frame of the half-built house loomed ahead, its structure a silent monument to plans that had stalled.
And there he was.
Minoru sat on a pile of concrete blocks, his figure outlined against the fading light of the late afternoon. He was dressed simply, his usual hoodie and jeans, but his posture was different. There was a tension in his shoulders, a weariness in the way he held himself.
Akane hesitated, unsure of how to approach him. Her heart raced as she took a step closer, her shadow falling across the uneven ground.
"You're here," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Minoru looked up, his expression unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might brush her off, as he often did with most people. But then, to her surprise, he nodded.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and even.
The question caught her off guard. She had spent so much time thinking about him, wondering if he was okay, that she hadn't expected him to ask about her.
"I… I think so," she replied, her words faltering. "I mean, after everything…"
Minoru didn't respond immediately. He shifted slightly, patting the concrete block beside him in a silent invitation.
Akane sat down, the rough surface cold against her legs. For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't awkward, though—it was almost comforting, like an unspoken understanding between them.
As the minutes stretched on, Akane found herself studying him. The way he sat, the way his hands rested on his knees—it all seemed so familiar. And then it hit her.
"It was you," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Minoru stiffened slightly but didn't look at her.
"You saved me," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "At the warehouse. It was you, wasn't it?"
For a moment, she thought he might deny it. But then he let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.
"Yeah," he admitted, his voice barely audible.
Akane felt a surge of emotion—relief, gratitude, and something else she couldn't quite name. "Why?"
Minoru finally turned to look at her, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Because I could," he said simply.
It wasn't the answer she had expected, but somehow, it felt right.
~!~
They didn't talk much after that. Instead, they sat together, the silence between them speaking volumes. Akane found herself relaxing in his presence, the tension that had gripped her since the kidnapping slowly ebbing away.
Over the next few days, she returned to the construction site whenever she had free time. Minoru was always there, usually tinkering with something—a small mechanical device, a piece of discarded machinery, anything he could get his hands on.
At first, their interactions were limited to simple exchanges—a nod of acknowledgment, a brief greeting. But gradually, the distance between them began to shrink.
Akane started bringing him small things: a thermos of tea, a sandwich, a notebook. Minoru never asked for anything, but he accepted her offerings with quiet gratitude.
One afternoon, as she handed him a bottle of water, he finally got her name right.
"Thanks, Nishino," he said, his tone casual.
She froze, the bottle still in her hand. It was the first time he had ever said her name correctly.
"You remembered," she said, her voice tinged with surprise.
Minoru shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Guess it finally stuck."
Akane couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sense of normalcy—something steady in the chaos of her life.
Their connection wasn't built on grand gestures or dramatic moments. It was in the small things: the quiet companionship, the shared understanding, the unspoken promise of safety.
For Akane, Minoru became a safe harbor—a place where she could let her guard down, even if only for a little while. And for Minoru, Akane was a reminder that, despite everything, there was still something worth protecting.
As the days turned into weeks, their bond grew stronger. They didn't need words to communicate; their presence alone was enough.
And though Minoru would never admit it, Akane's unwavering determination to stay by his side began to chip away at the walls he had built around himself.
In the shadows of the abandoned construction site, the place where his future backup workshop would be someday, two lives that had once been worlds apart began to intertwine, creating something neither of them had expected but both desperately needed.
For now, they weren't hunted or haunted, either by the past or the shadows.
For now.
Author's Note: Another chapter done! I am on a roll!
As always, please let me know your thoughts in the reviews!
Q and A time!
Q: What happened to Minoru's parents?
A: It will be answered in a future chapter. For now, assume they are safe off-screen. Truthfully, I don't know what to do with them, so I'll keep them away until I can do something with them.
Q: Will Akane's brother have a hand in what happens?
A: Perhaps, he does seem the type to not leave well enough alone. Unlike Minoru's parents, I do have a plan for his role in this story.
Q: How different will the story be from what is canon?
A: I hope to change it so that it blends well with the canon story and my own ideas.
I would like to add a bit of a commentary here, just something I noticed.
Some of the more popular fics I've seen in here and other fandoms doesn't seem to be purely on their own merits, its usually on the shoulders of more established anime, like Re:zero, Fairy Tail, and the like.
For example, I read a Re:zero crossover with Eminence and it didn't feel like Cid or the shades did anything other than add commentary to the canon of Re:zero or vice versa if Re:zero was added to Shadow's world. The most I've seen is a few arsepulls and saving minor characters using their powers but otherwise not contributing to the overall plot.
I may be an older writer, but maybe I'm just being a little elitist when I think the story blend could be so much more. An idea I always had was that if doing a cross over, maybe have the others in conflict and not always on the same side.
Alliances shift and re-sorted makes for an interesting dynamic, I believe!
Anyways, signing off for now!
Terra ace