The sun rose slowly over Nexus Vanguard, its pale light struggling to pierce through the thick smoke pouring from endless factory chimneys. The air vibrated with the constant grind of machinery—metal against metal—an unceasing reminder that the city never truly slept. Even morning felt mechanical here, cold and indifferent.
The scene shifted to a narrow street tucked between towering iron structures.
Inside a small, worn-down house, soft sunlight crept through cracked windows, forming faint lines across the walls. Outside, the city hummed faintly, distant yet ever-present. A new day had arrived… uncaring of what had happened the night before.
The living room was still.
Aoi Kagami sat on a torn-up sofa, unmoving. Her eyes were red, swollen from a night without rest. Tears gathered at the edges, but none fell—as if even crying had exhausted her.
Her trembling hands was an old photograph.
A family photo.
The photograph showed a different time.
Renji stood at the center, holding a small Ichigo in his arms. Aoi stood beside them, close enough that their shoulders touched. All three of them were smiling—genuinely, effortlessly—as if the world had once been kind to them.
Aoi's fingers trembled as she traced the image, her touch lingering over the faded lines. Her thumb slowly came to rest over Renji's face.
"…You used to smile," she whispered.
A tear finally slipped free, falling onto the photograph and blurring the image beneath it. She didn't wipe it away.
Footsteps echoed softly from the other room.
The door creaked open.
Renji stepped out, his hair disheveled, eyes dull with exhaustion. He paused the moment he saw her. For a single heartbeat, their gazes met—hers heavy with sorrow, his clouded with something unreadable.
Aoi's eyes widened ever so slightly—hope flickering within them, tangled with fear and pain.
For a moment, she thought he might say something.
But Renji broke eye contact first.
He turned away.
The silence stretched between them, long and suffocating. As he moved, his gaze fell briefly on the photograph clutched in Aoi's hands. His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his skin.
He said nothing.
Without a word, Renji walked past her, his footsteps dull against the worn floor. He reached the bathroom, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a quiet click.
Dim light flickered within the cramped space.
Renji approached the cracked mirror above the sink. He placed both hands against the porcelain, gripping it tightly, knuckles paling. Slowly, he lifted his head.
His reflection stared back at him.
Tired eyes. Unsteady. Hollow.
They shook slightly, as if the man staring back was someone he barely recognized anymore. The crack running through the mirror split his face in two—one side shadowed, the other harshly lit.
Fragments of memory flickered through Renji's mind.
Aoi laughing, her voice bright and carefree.
Aoi standing by the stove, humming softly as she cooked.
Aoi chasing him down a narrow street, both of them laughing.
Aoi crying—silent, broken, reaching for something he could no longer give.
His breath grew uneven, shallow.
"…Why, Aoi…" Renji whispered, his voice breaking as it left his lips.
His fists clenched against the sink, knuckles whitening.
"Why did you do that…"
The words trembled, fractured under the weight of emotions he had buried for too long. His voice cracked completely.
"…Why!!"
A tear slipped down his cheek.
He wiped it away quickly, but another followed, then another. His shoulders tensed as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cold surface of the mirror.
"I didn't want this…" Renji's voice trembled, almost pleading with the reflection before him.
"I can't stay like this… how happy we were…"
His breath hitched.
"Then why, Aoi…? Why did you do that…?"
Outside the bathroom, Aoi remained seated on the torn sofa, unmoving. Tears still clung to her lashes as she hugged the photograph tightly to her chest, as though it were the last piece of warmth she had left.
Renji… please look at me again…
Please talk to me again…
She didn't speak the words aloud. She prayed them silently, afraid that if she did, they would break.
Beyond the cracked windows, sunlight grew stronger. The city slowly woke—machines roared to life, sirens echoed in the distance, and Nexus Vanguard resumed its cold, relentless rhythm.
Two lives continued as if nothing was wrong.
Two people under the same roof… separated by a truth neither could face.
In the next room, Ichigo slept peacefully.
The scene shifted far away from the quiet sorrow of Nexus Vanguard—to Kazim Fort.
At eight in the morning, the massive fortress stood bathed in golden sunlight, radiant and alive. Today was no ordinary day. Celebration overflowed from every tower and wall, for it was the day of the princess's marriage.
The fort was almost unrecognizable.
Silk banners stretched between towering spires, their vibrant colors fluttering gently in the breeze. White and gold fabrics flowed like waves along balconies and arches, catching the sunlight and reflecting it back in soft brilliance. Fresh flowers lined every path, their fragrance carried through the air, mingling with the warmth of morning.
Music drifted softly across the grounds—flutes weaving gentle melodies, light drums keeping a cheerful rhythm that echoed through the stone halls.
Nobles walked freely through the courtyards, laughter ringing out as conversations overlapped in excited murmurs. Servants hurried past with trays of delicacies and ceremonial offerings, their faces bright with joy as the fort buzzed with life.
Every corner of Kazim Fort pulsed with celebration.
"Today is not a day of politics. It is a day of union."
In the royal garden of Kazim Fort, a long marble table rested beneath the shade of ancient trees. Sunlight filtered softly through the leaves, casting shifting patterns across polished stone and fine tableware.
The royal family had gathered for breakfast.
The king sat at the head of the table, his posture dignified yet relaxed, while the queen sat beside him, elegant and composed. Around them, other members of the royal family chatted lightly, their voices calm and unburdened—free, at least for this morning, from matters of state.
Princess Zafira sat quietly among them, dressed in a royal frock of yellow and red. The colors suited her well, warm and radiant, yet her hands rested neatly in her lap, her expression thoughtful rather than celebratory.
She smiled faintly, her gaze drifting toward the decorated towers beyond the garden.
"It's strange…" she said softly. "Everything feels unreal."
Her uncle, seated nearby, looked at her with gentle eyes and an understanding smile.
"That's how happiness feels, Princess Zafira."
A soft blush spread across her cheeks as she lowered her gaze, the weight of the day settling into her heart—not as fear, but as something tender and fragile.
Her uncle leaned back slightly, glancing toward the king with a knowing smile.
"It's a love marriage, isn't it?"
The queen answered calmly, a soft warmth in her voice.
"Yes, it is."
Zafira's aunt chuckled, folding her hands together.
"Well then, Princess Zafira truly has perfect luck—and excellent taste. I've heard the prince of the Kingdom of Justice is among the most handsome men alive."
The color on Zafira's cheeks deepened instantly.
Her nephew leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Well… just look at Sister's cheeks."
"Shut up!!" Zafira snapped, turning away in embarrassment.
For a moment, the royal garden erupted with laughter. The king smiled, the queen covered her lips lightly, and even the servants nearby struggled to hide their amusement. Zafira's blush deepened even further, her ears burning as she realized she had become the center of attention.
Then—
Hurried footsteps broke through the laughter.
They were fast. Uneven. Urgent.
Two soldiers rushed into the royal garden, their armor clinking as they struggled to catch their breath. The laughter died instantly.
One of them stepped close to the king, lowering his voice, urgency trembling beneath his restraint.
"Your Majesty…"
The second soldier swallowed hard before speaking aloud.
"Lord Mizoro has arrived."
The air shifted.
A strange, oppressive heaviness settled over the garden, as if the sunlight itself had dimmed. Smiles vanished. Conversations ceased. A chill ran through every soul present.
The king stiffened, his expression hardening.
"…Mizoro?"
The first soldier nodded grimly.
"He has arrived with his Z-rank hunting squad."
Silence fell like a blade.
Even the birds perched in the trees seemed to stop, the garden frozen in a moment of collective fear. The distant music faded into nothingness, swallowed by the weight of that single name.
The queen's hands trembled as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"So soon…?"
Princess Zafira's breath caught in her chest.
To be continued.....