Part 5: One of Us Has to Live
While they were still on the grounds, Haruto stirred slightly.
He was still in Ayame's arms, her hold firm, protective. Even as he woke, he didn't pull away.
"Hey… Ayame," he murmured sleepily. "Why does my head hurt?"
He lifted his face just enough to look up at her.
Tears were in Ayame's eyes.
For a moment, he just stared, trying to focus.
"…Why are you crying?" he asked softly. "And where are we?"
Ayame tightened her embrace around him.
"I'll tell you everything," she said, her voice trembling. "Once we're home."
Haruto frowned faintly, confusion clouding his half-awake mind.
"What's wrong?"
Before she could answer, slow, uneven footsteps sounded behind him.
A wounded hunter came walking forward, stopping where Haruto's back was still turned.
His voice cut through the moment.
"So… you are Ayame Inazuma," he said. "Also known as the mind of a mature one at such a young age."
Haruto looked back and saw the hunter standing there.
He glanced at Ayame, confusion clear on his face.
"Hey… who is this guy, Ayame?"
She answered calmly, though her body remained tense.
"He is another hunter."
The hunter's voice turned cold.
"I will kill you both," he said, "and then kill your brother too."
Ayame shook her head.
"It's only the two of us."
The hunter let out a harsh laugh.
"Even standing in front of death's mouth, you're still lying."
His eyes narrowed.
"I know you aren't twins. You're triplets. We will find him and kill him as well."
He took a step forward.
"You will pay for what you did."
As Haruto turned back toward Ayame, his eyes widened.
A hunter was already upon them, swinging a kunai dangerously close.
"You both will pay," the hunter said.
Without hesitation, Haruto's hand shot up and struck the hunter between the cheeks and chin.
The hunter went flying backward from the impact.
Before Haruto could react, another hunter—who had been behind him—came running straight toward them.
And suddenly, a slash—blood spilled out.
The person who killed the hunter moved like a lightning bolt across the ground.
Every hunter who had been injured Died.
The person rushed over and stopped when he saw Haruto and Ayame.
Blood was streaked across Haruto's forehead and near his left eye. Ayame's silver hair was slightly damp with Blood, and both of them looked bruised and exhausted.
He knelt down immediately.
"Haruto… Ayame… are you both fine?"
Haruto blinked, his vision unsteady.
"My head hurts," he said quietly. "But… I guess I'm fine, Big Brother."
The man turned to Ayame.
"And you? Ayame—"
He froze.
Ayame wasn't responding.
Haruto's voice trembled as he looked at her.
"Big Brother Raizen," he said softly. "She isn't awake…"
He lowered his head slightly, clutching at his temples.
"I want to go home," he whispered. "My head hurts a lot."
Back at home, Renjiro stood in the middle of the room, visibly pissed.
Akari noticed immediately.
She didn't ask at first—she already knew something was wrong.
"These weapons," Renjiro said sharply, scanning the room, "most of them look like they're from my inventory."
His gaze snapped toward his room.
The door was open.
Akari followed his line of sight. "Are you saying the hunters took your weapons?"
"No," Renjiro replied. "These were on the ground when we arrived."
He clenched his fist.
"And there were more than five kunai. That's more than Haruto used last time."
Akari's eyes widened slightly.
"…Haruto might have used clones again," Renjiro muttered. Then his voice dropped. "But where is he?"
Akari hesitated. "I guess we should start looking for him."
"No," Renjiro said immediately.
She turned to him. "Why?"
"There's no use," he replied grimly. "By the time we arrived, the hunters attacked us."
He paused, jaw tight.
"That means Haruto was already taken by the one who left this."
Renjiro's eyes fell to a bag near the entrance.
Akari picked it up and opened it carefully. She checked the label inside.
"…It's Ayame's."
Renjiro froze.
"Why was she here?" Akari whispered.
"Wasn't she supposed to be at the academy?" Renjiro said, frustration rising. "This is too much now."
Without another word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a smoke gun.
He aimed upward.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Three shots, fired one after another.
Ash-gray smoke spread across the sky, thick and unmistakable.