The crusted surface of Persetta remained in ruin. The sounds of war had died down, yet the sights remained.
A graveyard of bodies and ash—and there amidst the ruin, walked Tona.
There wasn't any urgency in his step anymore. A face once filled with sincerity and calm—now overruled by grief.
His eyes scanned the plaza in a continuous search. Then he saw him.
Maro, laid with his eyes open, arms at his side. The symbol of Memento—lifeless.
Tona's feet dragged forward in silent brushes. There was only silence.
Maro's faint smile remained even in death—a final gift of kindness. But to him, it felt like a cruel illusion.
Tona knelt mechanically. His eyes met those of his mentor's—his godfather's glassy eyes. A faded hollow.
Tona's fingers reached for the scarf that wrapped his neck. The only thing, keeping his memories from flooding. He loosened its grip, and they came back.
An outdoor lunch in the fields of Persetta. Countless Memento members filled the seats of picnic tables. Life was bustling, with the echoes of hundreds of voices talking over one another. The sun was bright and beautiful—no clouds in the sky.
A younger Tona sat beside an equally young boy. Hatori animatedly reenacted his latest mission with a grin across his face.
"—and I swear, this guy thought he had me! Came in with some flashy Solena thingy, trying to flex," Hatori said with a mouth full of rice. "Next thing he knows… BAM! Face full of dirt!"
Tona nodded along absently, half listening to his friend's story. His attention drifted. Something—or rather, someone—caught his attention.
Down the center row of tables walked a girl, around the same age as them. She had snowy, white hair that flowed down her uniform's collar, and soft, blue eyes that scanned nervously. She clutched her tray with both hands, clearly unsure where to sit. No one seemed to notice her.
She turned, prepared to retreat quietly.
"Hey!" Tona called out, waving with a hand raised. Hatori flipped backwards, caught off guard by the sudden outburst. "We've got a seat over here!"
The girl flinched in surprise, before slowly turning towards the boy. Her cheeks were flushed in pink from embarrassment.
Hatori stood, blinking, before his gaze bounced from Tona and the girl repeatedly. A sly grin crept on his face.
"Ooh… Tona's got a crush, huh?"
Tona gave an easy stray punch to Hatori's gut.
"Oof!" he gasped, before waving in defeat.
"Keep talking, and you're going in that trash can," muttered Tona.
"... Worthy cause," Hatori muttered, still gathering his breath.
The girl walked over hesitantly, tray shaking slightly in her grip.
"T—Thank you," she whispered, the embarrassment unashamed to show itself.
Tona smiled warmly. "Don't mention it. Plenty of room," he said motioning at the seats in front of him.
"I'm Tona, by the way."
"Hatori," his friend chimed in.
"Y—Yuki…" she replied softly.
Tona repeated her name in a matching tone. "Nice to meet you, Yuki!"
She blushed, her eyes flicking to her tray. Hatori leaned in with casual curiosity.
"So. You new around here? Don't think I've seen you before."
Yuki nodded. "Just finished my trial today. It was… terrifying."
Both boys laughed.
"Wasn't that bad for me," Hatori said with a proud smile.
"Don't let him fool you. He returned with a suspicious wet spot on his pants," Tona said, shooting Hatori a look.
"T—Tona! C'mon man!"
Yuki burst into laughter, her nerves melting into the sound. Her voice had a soft touch, but it was backed with sturdiness.
In that moment, a spark passed between her and Tona. An unspoken click.
An older Tona and Yuki walked side by side down a quiet path near the Persetta Riverbanks. The stars above glistened like frost. Both were now seventeen—Tona reaching six foot two, and Yuki standing tall at five-nine. She was only smaller in presence now, not in confidence.
Yuki's voice had changed since that day—it was more sure of itself and vibrant. A melody to passing ears.
"Best duo in Alden right here!" laughed Yuki, raising her hand in a high-five. Tona slapped it with equal charm.
"Obviously…" he chuckled.
Yuki put her hands on her hips. Her cloak drifted in the breeze behind her. A mask designed with snowflakes hung around her neck, below it—a plain white scarf, topped with her beautiful face.
"I think we need a nickname. How about… Troublesome Two? Or Doom-duo?"
Tona groaned, hunching over. "You're pretty bad at this…"
"Am not," she said in a pout.
A laugh escaped his lips—one that made her eyes dilate subtly.
They continued down the path, stepping in unison. The sight of Memento's camp came into view, Yuki's tent marked with painted snowflakes that she made herself.
"You know…" she started, lips curving into a teasing smile. "You've been walking me home quite often, recently."
Tona matched the tone. "Gotta make sure you get back safe. Don't want any goons to jump you, right?"
"Not at all. I'm sure I could handle myself, though."
"I'm sure you can," Tona finished as they approached her tent. They faced one another before she took her leave.
Her head leaned against his shoulder, and a brief silence wrapped them like a blanket.
"You know, Tona… you're kind. Too kind. And that's—"
She took a breath, inhaling the cold winter night's air.
"—that's my favorite thing about you. Outside of your handsome face, of course," she giggled.
"I get that a lot," Tona joked.
"Oh I'm sure."
Tona looked to the sky for only a moment, before returning his gaze to hers.
"But… they all know my heart is taken. I make sure of it."
"Oh yeah?" she said keeping eye contact.
"Mhm," he said, bringing his head to hers for a moment. A peaceful rest of mere seconds—before he turned.
"Goodnight, Yuki. Sleep well—I'll see you tomorrow."
She beamed at him. "Goodnight, Tona."
The world turned colder. Snow drifted softly through the forest, flakes clinging to dead trees. Tona and Yuki stood back to back—surrounded. An APC ambush left them fighting for their lives.
Countless stalkers stood, awaiting a chance to strike. Tona stood with his ring on, fighting with only his first two gates and fists.
Even limited, he crushed the first two Stalkers that came his way, bone-shattering blows ending them in seconds.
Yuki danced with elegance and precision beside him, blades of ice flashing in the snowstorm.
Tona looked away for only a second, and they struck. A mere moment is all it took.
From all angles, they struck the girl. An ice shield began to form from the front, making its way to the sides. She turned, believing she was safe. But from unrelenting snow, a stalker lunged from her blindspot.
A blade pierced her side—her breath caught in her throat. She stumbled forward, eyes wide in disbelief, with blood blooming through her coat.
Tona's voice tore through the cold.
"YUKI!"
He vanished in a blink, jumping through a gate to the attacker. With a single blow, he grasped the stalker's skull, and slammed it into the ground. A twitch followed—then nothing. The remaining enemies retreated, shaken by the sudden shift in Tona's presence. He turned instantly to Yuki.
She was trying to walk, staggering toward him, hands clutching her side. She collapsed mid-step.
He slid beneath her falling body, and caught her.
"Yuki—no, no no—stay down, stay with me—"
She was gasping, blood at the corners of her lips.
He gathered her in his arms and began jumping—gate after gate, desperate for somewhere safe.
"Hold on. We're almost there. You'll be okay. You have to be."
She coughed, and more blood spilled from her mouth.
"Tona…" she rasped. "Slow down… please…"
Her hand trembled against his coat, fingers gripping the fabric as if to anchor herself.
Tona stopped and fell to a knee, cradling her against his chest.
"There you are…" she whispered weakly, a smile curling on her lips. "There's the boy I love…"
Her hand rose slowly, brushing his cheek. Tona's expression crumbled.
"Yuki… please don't—"
She placed a cold finger over his lips, silencing him.
"Don't mourn," she whispered. "Not for long. The world's still beautiful… It doesn't need more sadness."
Her head rested gently against his chest.
"Smile for me. Please. Your smile… it gives people strength. I know firsthand. Promise me, you'll protect others… and smile."
Another cough. Her voice was almost gone now.
"Don't waste your life… Tona. You have so much more to give."
With what strength remained, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his cheek—a final kiss, soft and trembling.
Then her hand fell as her body went still. The snowstorm howled around them.
"I—I… promise."
Tona held her close, unmoving. His hair veiled his face, but tears fell freely onto the ground below. The woman he would give anything for… was gone.
Later that day, Tona stepped through Memento's camp slowly. He held her limp body in his arms with a blank face. Blood still marked his cheek—the last touch of a girl now gone. Wrapped around his neck was her scarf.
The camp went silent as he passed. Not a single member dared to speak—his presence felt different now.
Colder, quieter, and hollow.
Maro approached from the edge of camp, eyes filled with sorrow.
"Tona… Tona, I'm sorry. It isn't your fault."
Tona's expression didn't change. He walked past without a word.
And now, Tona knelt beside the man he looked up to. A promise that shattered into pieces.
He didn't cry or scream—because there was nothing left to say.
The message carved across his mentor's chest struck whatever was left.
"What can you protect, Ghost?"
"Nothing. Not a damn thing," Tona whispered, before reaching his hand to Maro's chest. A soft pulse of Solena spread from his palm, mending the wound—not of hope, but respect.
A last gift, to a fallen father.
Tona pulled the scarf from his neck, lowering it in his hand, before hesitantly pulling it back. He wrapped it once more around his neck, before lowering his head gently.
He rose from his knees, and began to walk. There was no one to stop him. No one to follow. He turned from the plaza, his silhouette disappearing into the lingering smoke.