Chapter 88: Shadows of the Past

Elder Kasamaki gently patted Yahageshii on the shoulder. With his hands behind his back, he spoke in a calm, steady voice, "My granddaughter and I often spar in the southern courtyard. If you're interested, feel free to visit. You're always welcome."

With that, the elder said no more. He turned and walked away slowly, his figure blending into the quiet night. His steps were steady, his cane tapping softly against the ground, each sound striking Yahageshii's restless heart and gradually calming it.

The courtyard fell into silence. Only the fading footsteps of Elder Kasamaki echoed in the shadows. Yahageshii stood still for a long time, clenching his fists tightly. The joints creaked faintly, and his gaze, filled with complexity, rose to the sky.

How long had it been? How long since he last felt the care of an elder? He couldn't recall.

The memory of losing his parents was etched deep into his mind, like carvings on stone. As a child, he had chosen not to disturb his only remaining relative, Aunt Biyu. Instead, he lived alone in the dormitories, fending for himself. He dared not ask for more, only occasionally mustering the courage to join her for a meal. True companionship or affection was something he never dared to hope for.

This life had forged his resilience but also deepened his solitude. Yahageshii raised his head to the starless sky, its dark expanse seemingly devouring his memories. His eyes, clouded with bitterness, seemed to peer through the darkness toward a night of failure—the powerlessness he couldn't overcome, the strength that slipped through his grasp, the reality that bound him like chains.

"Why..." he murmured, his voice tinged with a faint quiver. He couldn't let it go, nor did he want to. The self-doubt, the resentment against fate—it all swirled within him like unseen currents pulling him into the abyss.

Yet, Elder Kasamaki's words, like a warm breeze, gently began to disperse the clouds over his heart. The simple phrase "you're always welcome" carried a warmth and strength he hadn't felt in years.

His tightly clenched fists slowly relaxed, the veins on his knuckles faintly visible in the dim light, hinting at the storm of emotions he had just endured. His gaze fixed on a distant horizon, a blindingly bright light that seemed to call him toward the unknown while reminding him of the challenges ahead. His eyes lost their confusion, replaced by a hint of resolve—a battle fought against inner shadows and a decision made with finality.

Today's sunlight shone upon him, both comforting and weighty, as though carrying the expectations and trials of the world. It pierced through thin clouds, casting a faint golden glow on his worn figure, subtly wrapping him in a quiet brilliance. That light carried a depth, akin to a spark before dawn. Though faint, it promised to disperse the darkness. Yahageshii exhaled deeply, his gaze softening yet hardening with determination, as if silently answering the light's silent challenge.

Shingin wandered aimlessly after leaving the building, like a leaf drifting in the wind, floating through places where he didn't belong. Near the gate, he unexpectedly crossed paths with someone—a figure that exuded an overpowering presence.

She stood at the corner, backlit, her icy gaze seemingly capable of freezing everything. Her tall figure, framed by the glow of the light, exuded a cold elegance. Long hair of snow-white with blue undertones swayed gently in the breeze, radiating an unapproachable chill. Her sharp, exquisite features framed deep-set, frosty eyes that carried a regal aloofness, as though they could pierce through Shingin's weaknesses with a single glance.

Her attire was striking. A cropped black sports top highlighted the defined lines of her abs, while a snug athletic jacket emphasized her perfect figure. Her ensemble, a blend of modern vitality and icy dominance, was completed by deep gray, form-fitting athletic pants that clung to her long, powerful legs. Each step she took carried an effortless yet forceful grace, her minimalistic sneakers exuding functionality. Her entire demeanor radiated confidence and aggression, every detail screaming of a coiled spring ready to snap.

And just like her outfit, her presence was sharp and overwhelming. She didn't need to speak or act; merely standing there was enough to make Shingin feel trapped. Her impassive face resembled a frost queen's sculpture, her gaze deep and unyielding.

Shingin immediately recognized her. During the revolutionaries' misunderstanding of Riyugi, this very girl had once shouted with cold resolve, "Don't be fooled by her weak appearance, idiot!"

Tentatively, he nodded in greeting. Yet she offered no response, only casting him a cold glance brimming with disdain. The scorn in her eyes pricked him like needles, leaving him unsure of what he had done to offend her. Bowing his head, he tried to slip past her.

But just as he took a step, her mocking voice rang out. "Running away is the one thing you're always good at, isn't it?"

Shingin froze in his tracks, his entire body trembling. Slowly, he turned to face her, but she met his gaze head-on, her frosty eyes unrelenting.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice steady yet cutting, "Has Kuhina been gone so long that you've forgotten her face? Or is it that you can no longer recognize her sister—Miyawari Yuko?"

Shingin felt as though he had been struck by lightning. He staggered back a step, his face draining of all color. Trembling, he stared at her, his eyes lingering on her snow-white hair—a sight so familiar, yet so piercing. Memories surged forth like a tidal wave, bringing with them the name that sent a chill through his very core.

Kuhina.

Yes, Miyawari Kuhina had possessed the same beautiful hair. Her death had left a scar on Shingin's heart, a nightmare that wouldn't fade. As the memories overwhelmed him, Shingin clutched his chest, his breathing shallow, his face as pale as a ghost.

Yuko watched his pitiful state, a cold smirk playing on her lips. Her tone dripped with disdain. "Why is it that someone like you gets to run away and survive, while my sister had to meet her end in such a way?"

Shingin's breathing quickened as he clutched his chest tighter, seemingly unable to bear the weight of his past. The pounding of his heart roared in his ears, and the world around him began to blur. Yuko, showing no trace of mercy, turned and walked into the building without so much as a glance back.

Slumped in the shadows of the crowd, Shingin seemed utterly drained of energy. The bustling people passed him by without a second look. He sat there, curled in on himself, as though trying to vanish from the world's gaze. The overcast sky loomed above, casting a cold, harsh light that pierced his heart and left a lingering chill.