A young teenage boy strolled through the heart of Igumi, drinking in the evening light as it spilled over the district's architecture. Sloped roofs were painted in a variety of colors, though often crimson tainted. Paper lanterns swayed gently from carved wooden beams. The streets wound like rivers, bending and flowing with people. Smooth stone paths ran alongside koi ponds sprinkled throughout.
The people, while at first glance seemingly stern-faced and guarded, carried a quiet warmth for those who earned their trust.
A boy walked the paths, hands in the pockets of his garment patterned with vibrant slashes of indigo and azalea. Brown hair topped his head, and eyes of equal color reflected from the lantern light above. An easy smile formed his lips—one that made strangers feel at home.
"Hey Shikuya!" a girl's voice rang out from a nearby garden, where she and a few friends tossed a leather ball back and forth. "Come play with us!"
Shikuya turned his head, raising a brow. "Can't! Ma's taking me to the lanterns!"
The girl gave a shrug, not in disappointment, and went back to the game. Shikuya continued forward, his sandals clicking lightly against the stone. The air carried the faint scent of blooming lotus and grilled fish from further down the path. Around him, hurried steps in preparation for the festival had the streets bustling.
He walked over a tiny wooden bridge that arched over another koi pond—this time, stopping for a moment. One of the fish swirled in a circle, creating a tiny ripple. Through the center, Shikuya saw his face, grinning from ear to ear.
I wonder what the lanterns look like, he thought to himself. Ever since we moved here, it's all they talk about… and it's got me excited. I hope they don't disappoint.
His steps carried him away, leading to a familiar bending street. Hidden behind an array of shops and uniquely shaped houses, Shikuya's home stuck out with its jade-green exterior. A small garden was planted out front, filled with pumpkins, potatoes, and other foods for easy access. Rows of plants and grains swayed softly in the breeze, welcoming him home as he pushed the front door open.
Inside, the cool shade embraced him. His mother sat at the dining room table with a steaming teapot and three cups. Her eyes lifted as he entered.
"I'm back!" he shouted, walking over to hug his mother quickly.
"Welcome back, sweetie," his mother said warmly, giving a tight squeeze. "I made tea—although that father of yours drank a fair share of it already."
"My bad!" a voice said sheepishly from the bathroom—undeniably his father.
She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a character… anyways—are you excited for tonight, Shikuya?" she asked, face brightening as though she'd been waiting to ask all day.
Her eyes glittered with anticipation—she tried to keep her posture composed, but didn't hide her excitement well.
"I sure am!" he said, raising a fist to the air.
"Good. We'll leave in a little while," his mother said, brushing her hair back. "But first—go try on that outfit I got for you. Make sure it fits."
"Why do I have to change?"
"Because it's their culture here, Shikuya. We're new, and it's polite to honor their traditions."
Shikuya gave a hesitant nod before turning to his room. "Don't worry ma! I'm sure it'll fit. If not, I'll make it."
He left the room in hurried steps, his mother shaking her head with a smile.
A while later, Shikuya and his mother wandered the streets side by side. The soft hum grew louder the further they walked through the lantern-lit paths. The air carried mingled scents of sweet rice cakes and grilled river fish, while the distant sound of a shamisen drifted from a nearby tavern. People crowded around, dressed in traditional garbs and clothing.
At the center of an approaching plaza, a large stone statue was erected—one of the Goddess of protection and family, Jesui. She was beloved within the district, her being tied largely into Igumi's culture. At her feet, offerings of fruit, flowers, and incense decorated the pillar beautifully.
Shikuya's mother walked in stride with her son, her dark brown hair pinned neatly with silver combs. Gentle green eyes reflected off of the glow of the lights overhead. Her garment was a cascade of different flowers in vibrant colors—like she had stepped out from a painting.
By the time the two made it to the festival grounds, the sky had plastered itself in dark blues of twilight. Drums signaled the beginning of the event, and Shikuya clenched his fists excitedly.
One by one the lanterns began to rise in the air—their golden-orange light catching on the intricate paper cutouts that formed distinct patterns. Dragons, cherry blossoms, waves and many more. As they drifted higher, the designs refracted the flames, scattering a rainbow across the starlit sky. The crowd gasped in unison as the colors swirled and danced overhead.
"Wow," his mother breathed, her voice almost lost within the music and whispers of awe. "It's so beautiful."
Shikuya's eyes widened, the lights reflecting perfectly within his irises. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen—like watching pieces of the sun float away.
His eyes moved downward, and something completely different caught his attention.
In front of him, a young girl stood a few paces away. She wore a snow-white garment patterned with delicate indigo swirls. The light caught her precious red hair, turning the strands into flames. Her brown eyes gazed up at the show, oblivious to the cares of the world for a moment.
"Shikuya? What's wrong—" his mother began, stopping when she saw. Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "Oh… she's beautiful."
"Mom, don't!" he blurted, his face heating.
She chuckled softly, already looking at the lights again. "Just teasing."
He followed suit, raising his gaze back to the sky—though the view competed with the image that was now burned into his mind.
As the show wound down, the last few lanterns disappeared into the endless sky, until they vanished among the distant stars. Shikuya joined his mother through the slow-moving crowd, heading home. He walked half present, lost in thought—until he rounded a corner and collided with someone.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed.
The other figure tumbled back, and he hurriedly offered a hand. As she sat up, his eyes caught the familiar indigo swirls over the white fabric… the red hair loose at her sides.
The girl from the lantern show sat there, brushing her lap.
She blinked in surprise, but took his hand with a nod.
"I'm so sorry," he repeated. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
The girl shook her head, a faint smile softening her features. "It's okay, it really is. Don't worry about it."
He lifted her up, cheeks flushing. For a moment, neither moved—Shikuya staring, the girl looking back with a small, uncertain tilt of her head.
Realizing he was still holding on, Shikuya released his fingers from the girl's, clearing his throat. She gave a quick, polite smile before turning to leave.
"Wait… what's your name?" he blurted.
She paused and turned again, hands instinctively folding near her chest.
"Chekanari," she said softly. "My name is Chekanari."
"I'm Shikuya. It's nice to meet you. And—thanks for being so understanding."
"Of course," she said, the warmth in her smile told him she meant it. "Nice to meet you as well, Shikuya."
She dipped her head and started down the street. Shikuya watched the roaming crowd swallowed her red hair and pretty clothes—his chest was left with a lightness he hadn't expected.
"Oh Shikuya…" his mother sighed at his shoulder, delighted. "How sweet. You're growing so quickly."
"Ma," he muttered, "I'd appreciate it if you stopped."
She only laughed, fluttering her hands as if she was shooing a sparrow—entirely too pleased that her son had finally talked to a girl.
They followed the paths home, Shikuya's mind lingering on her a while longer.
Years had passed since that day.
Steam curled from a kettle on a modest stovetop. The kitchen was small, but sunlit—its wooden counters worn smooth from years of use. A handful of wildflowers sat in a cup by the window, living off of fresh water and beams that slid through the shutters. Shikuya—older now, late twenties—stood at the sink. His sleeves were rolled, drying plates with easy, practiced motions.
Footsteps padded in behind him.
"Morning, my love," said a familiar voice.
He turned. Chekanari leaned in the doorway, the morning light catching the red threads of hair. Time had only made her gentler, more confident. The indigo pattern on her robe resembled that night they'd first met, now softened with age.
"Good morning to you, beautiful," he said effortlessly. His beard was freshly trimmed, brown hair messy from a good night's rest.
They met in the middle, a quick kiss, the kind that said we've arrived a hundred times before. Their foreheads rested together for a quiet moment; their eyes found each other and stayed.
Shikuya set the towel aside, playful. "So—what's on the agenda today?"
Chekanari eased into one of the kitchen chairs, resting her chin lightly in her hand. "I'm thinking of taking our little one to see the lights. It's summer after all," she said calmly. "Only happens twice a year, and we didn't get to last winter."
Shikuya's lips curved upward. "Maybe I'll join you two."
"We'd love it if you would," her eyes brightened.
From the back of the house, a voice rang out. "Yeah daddy! Please come with us!"
A little girl burst into the room, still in her pajamas with hair sticking up in soft tufts from sleep. Her eyes were of a similar suit, the same pretty brown as her mother's. Her hair carried the warmth of her father, though.
She stepped across the floor, clutching the hem of her nightshirt. Shikuya laughed, crouching to her height.
"Oh Khleo… you've convinced me."
"Not hard to convince, are you?" Chekanari chuckled. "Sucker."
He glanced up at her, mock-serious. "You know me. I'm a pushover for my two girls."
The kitchen filled with the easy warmth of a family at peace—until a sharp knock rattled the front door. The sound cut through the moment like a sharpened blade.
Chekanari straightened, casting a quick glance at Shikuya. "I'll get it."
She crossed the room and opened the door just a sliver. A man stood outside, his figure framed by the pale morning light. His white uniform was crisp yet worn at the edges, his dark hair unkempt, and his eyes—a piercing, unnatural red—locked on hers.
"Good morning," the man said, his tone flat but polite. "I was hoping to speak to a man named Shikuya?"
Her fingers tightened around the doorframe. "Can I ask what for?"
His jaw flexed. "That isn't your concern, respectfully."
Shikuya was already moving. He stepped beside her, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder and gently guiding her back. His posture shifted—not aggressive, but ready.
"How can I help you?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.
The man's lips curved faintly, though his eyes stayed cold.
"Ah… Shikuya. So great to finally meet you." His voice had the smooth cadence of someone used to being obeyed.
"I'm Chaze of the APC—leading general and commander of the Stalker Core. Now, if you'd step out here for just a minute… This is private business."
Shikuya glanced back at Chekanari. She met his gaze, brows furrowing, but he gave her a small, steady nod. He stepped one foot across the threshold, leaving the door just barely cracked open. The air outside felt heavier.
"Good, thank you," Chaze murmured. His posture shifted, rolling his shoulders back while sharpening his look.
"Now, straight to business. We know you're an ability user, Shikuya. And as you know… they're strictly prohibited in Alden."
Shikuya's eyes widened—not in guilt, but in wary calculation. He didn't bother denying it. What concerned him was how they'd found out.
"Don't worry," Chaze went on, reading his face. "You've done nothing wrong. We identified you by your Solena output. You see, that output allows stalkers—and other ability users—to feel the presence of one another. All it takes is tapping into our reserves."
Chaze tilted his head. "But you wouldn't know that… since you try to hide who you really are, right Shikuya?"
Shikuya's voice was low and tight. "What do you want from me, Chaze?"
Chaze's gaze narrowed to a point, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Join us. The APC. We'll leave your family alone… but your ability is rare—exceptionally so. You'll have quite the use."
"I'm not interested."
"Don't be so hasty…" Chaze stepped past him, brushing close as if he owned the space.
Shikuya's hand shot out, gripping Chaze's shoulder. "They have nothing to do with this. Don't touch them."
Chaze didn't even flinch. Slowly, deliberately, he peeled Shikuya's hand away.
"No. Don't touch me." His tone had sharpened to steel. "Besides… I won't."
His smirk deepened. "But they will."
He swung the door wide. Two men in white APC uniforms stood just inside, their grips iron on Chekanari and Khleo. His wife twisted against the stalker's hold, fury burning within her eyes. The other held Khleo's arms pinned behind the back. The girl whimpered, calling for her father.
"How… how did they get in?"
One of the men mumbled. "Your back door wasn't locked. Pretty easy."
Chaze's gaze was unblinking, his words cutting like a knife.
"Now, join our cause… or they die."
Shikuya's eyes flicked between his wife and child—Chekanari straining against her captor's grip, Khleo's small arms still pinned, her frightened eyes searching for him.
"Fine. Fine—just please," his voice cracked under the weight of the choice, "don't hurt them."
Chaze's lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.
"Good choice. Now… escort them to Central. I'll speak to Shikuya myself."
The two stalkers tightened their hold and began hauling Chekanari and Khleo toward the door. Khleo's sandals scraped against the wooden flooring with a screech—one he'd remember. Panic surged through Shikuya. He reached out, fingers brushing Chekanari's arm.
"Alden Central?! You didn't say they'd be taken!"
"Oh… did I forget that part?" Chaze's tone never wavered. "Don't make a move you'll regret, Shikuya. Their lives… are in your cooperative hands."
Shikuya froze, jaw tight, eyes wide with helpless fury. The uniforms carried his family into the sunlit street without a backward glance.
"Now," Chaze continued, stepping closer, his shadow swallowing the space between them, "I can take you straight to the Stalker Academy in Alden Central… but I like you. So, I'll give you a choice."
Another smile, wicked and unforgiving.
"We'll let you keep your memories, as long as your intentions remain loyal to us. We'll be watching you. Slip… and you leave us no choice. And remember—those two are relying on your every move, Shikuya."
Shikuya's hands curled into trembling fists. The wood of the doorframe creaked beneath his grip.
"Now, you'll come with me." Chaze turned toward the street, his uniform shifting with each deliberate step. "We have missions to run."
Without another glance, he walked out, leaving the door open and the air inside heavy with the absence of the two people Shikuya loved most.
Now, sitting within the district he had long called home—and had his family taken from, Shikuya sat alone on a weathered bench at the edge of the plaza, his posture heavy, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. The summer light caught on the petals drifting from the nearby sakura trees, but to him, the colors were muted—drained of the life they once held. His mind was somewhere else, lost in the weight of memory.
"Shikuya…"
The voice pulled him back. He looked up to see Lalo standing there, arms crossed, a faint, sinister glint in her eye.
"Don't you have work to do? Better get started."
Shikuya met her gaze without a word. Lalo's smirk deepened, and with a high chuckle, she turned on her heel and skipped off.
His jaw flexed, silent rage burning just beneath the surface. His hatred for the APC was carved into every line on his face—hatred he could never act on. Not without dooming those that kept him moving every day.
He rose from the bench, intent on following, but a shadow fell over him. Tobamako loomed over, his broad shoulders topping a sun-blocking frame. His eyes were cold and calculating, as if he could see the doubts on Shikuya's face.
"Memento will be coming back for Igumi," he said, voice low and certain. "We'll need to be ready—crossbows, plenty of men, barricades… and many more."
His eyes narrowed, flicking from eye to eye—like he expected resistance.
"Which means plenty to do. So get your ass off that bench and get to work. Or…"
He stepped in close, the heat of his breath brushing Shikuya's face.
"I'll personally pay those two… the woman and child in Central, a visit."
A grin split his face, wide and cruel. Shikuya didn't move his head—his eyes met Tobamako's with equal ferocity.
"Understand?"
He didn't so much as blink.
"I'll take that as a yes," Tobamako said with mock satisfaction. He turned and strode off in the same direction as Lalo, his laughter fading into the noise of the street.
Shikuya remained where he stood, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles ached. Tired. Tired of the orders. Tired of being their pawn. Tired of fighting for something he didn't believe in.
But choice was a luxury long stolen from him.
Around him, Igumi bustled with its usual charm—sakura blossoms drifting on the wind, stalls spilling with sweets and trinkets, koi gliding in still ponds, children laughing as they darted between the legs of passersby.
Once, he had watched the lanterns paint the sky in color. Now, it was a world of black and white.