Part 4: Marked
Ayame sprinted through the streets with Haruto secured on her back, adrenaline propelling her forward.
The open ground finally came into view—a sloped field, rough earth beneath their feet.
A misstep. Ayame stumbled, losing her balance.
Both of them tumbled down the slope.
Haruto hit the ground hard. His head struck the earth, a thin trail of blood forming across his forehead.
Ayame cried out softly as pain tore through her side and leg. She tried to stand.
Her body refused.
She shifted instead, forcing herself upright into a sitting position despite the pain, and pulled Haruto into her arms. He rested against her chest, limp and shaken, his breathing uneven.
Ayame wrapped both arms around him tightly.
"I understand now…" she whispered.
Her voice trembled, but she didn't stop.
"I understand the pain you felt… carrying Enruto on your back four years ago."
Her grip tightened.
"But this time is different," she said, pressing her forehead against Haruto's hair.
"Enruto didn't return…"
Her breath hitched.
"But we will."
The field around them was silent. Too silent.
Then—
Movement.
Figures stepped out from different directions. No hiding now. No hesitation.
The hunters advanced openly.
Ayame lifted her head slowly. Tears slid down her face, but her eyes were steady she felt it then—the certainty settling deep in her chest. Not fear. Not panic.
Resolve.
She looked down at Haruto's face, at the way his fingers still clung to her clothing even in pain.
A tear slipped free.
"I'm sorry, Haruto," she whispered.
Her arms tightened around him one last time.
"One of us has to survive."
Something inside her answered.
Pressure built—heavy, overwhelming—spreading outward from her core. The air itself seemed to strain.
Then it broke.
A powerful wave surged outward from Ayame's body, racing across the ground.
The nearest hunters were thrown back violently, collapsing where they landed, no longer moving, they died.
Those farther away were hurled aside, crashing hard—still alive, but severely injured, unable to rise.
Dust rolled through the field.
When it settled, Ayame sagged forward, her strength gone. She held Haruto close, refusing to let him slip from her arms.
"I'm still here," she whispered weakly. "So you stay too."
The afternoon sun shone above them, uncaring.
But Ayame didn't look up.
She only held on.
Ayame's chest heaved as she sat holding Haruto. Tears slid freely down her face.
She pressed her forehead lightly against his, listening.
"I… I'm sorry, Haruto," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I did what I had to… it was better… one of us had to survive."
Her hands tightened around him as she felt his faint heartbeat.
"Don't give up," she murmured. "I'm here. Just… stay with me, okay? I know… Big Sister or Brother will be back anytime soon."
Haruto remained quiet, but his hand weakly curled against her arm.
The two of them stayed there, battered, exhausted, but alive—for now.
At their home, Akari and Renjiro arrived.
The door hung ajar, splintered from the earlier chaos.
They exchanged a look and stepped inside.
Their eyes widened. Fallen hunters lay scattered across the floor, dark blood staining the room.
But they sensed movement.
From every direction, hunters surged forward, emerging from shadowed corners and open windows.
"Kill them both!" they shouted, voices harsh, cold.
Akari and Renjiro reacted instantly.
Weapons drawn, they moved with precision. Every hunter that came close was struck down or knocked back eventually all got killed.
The room shook with the sudden clash.
Akari ducked a swinging weapon, countering with one swift motion. Renjiro's stance was solid, each strike precise, scattering attackers.
Through it all, the scattered blood on the floor marked the remnants of the first wave, a stark reminder of what Ayame and Haruto had faced outside.
But now, Akari and Renjiro were here. They were the shield.
And the hunters who thought the two kids could be easily taken down were learning, very quickly, how wrong they were.
At the academy, Kaito's hand tightened around his pen as it fell to the floor.
He whispered to Daigo, "Sensei… did you sense that blow?"
Daigo glanced at him, calm but sharp.
"Kaito, I've sent someone to check. You don't have to worry now."
Kaito's eyes narrowed. Something still didn't feel right, but Daigo didn't elaborate.
Daigo raised his voice, drawing the attention of the whole class.
"Before dispersal, remind me of something. I have something special to tell you all."
The classroom buzzed with curiosity, but Kaito couldn't focus. His mind was elsewhere—on the feeling that something dangerous had just struck Ayame and Haruto.