Chapter 6 – The Ashes of Mercy (Sadness version)

The seal broke in silence.

Not with thunder. Not with screaming.

Just… silence.

He stood among the ruins, ash falling like snow, the Yuruke mark still etched in burning light across his wrist. His hands were free, but his heart still chained.

He should've laughed.

But he didn't.

Because when the fire died down…

There was no one left waiting.

Just the memory of her.

The girl who asked him what the moon looked like.

The girl who brought fireflies instead of fear.

He still had the jar. Somehow, it survived the flames.

Cracked. Dim. But a few lights still flickered inside.

A voice echoed behind him.

"You finally lost control."

He didn't turn. He didn't need to.

The Hero.

Blade drawn. Expression unreadable.

"I didn't lose control," the villain said, his voice raw. "You never gave me a reason to hold it."

The Hero's jaw clenched. "She trusted you. And yet—look around."

A long pause.

And then… the villain spoke quietly, like a child confessing something painful:

"She died because of you."

The Hero flinched. "I tried to protect her."

"No," he whispered. "You tried to protect your world—not her."

A gust of wind blew ashes into the air.

He held up the cracked firefly jar.

"She told me once… that fireflies carry the dreams people never speak. I wonder how many are in here. I wonder how many belonged to her."

The Hero stayed silent.

"She wrote me a note," the villain continued. "Before she died. I never told anyone what it said."

He pulled out a folded paper, worn from time.

"She wrote… 'If you ever see the moon, tell it I smiled at you.'"

His voice cracked. Just slightly.

"And then you let them kill her."

The Hero stepped forward, guilt and pride warring in his eyes.

"She had darkness in her—"

"She had light," the villain growled. "More than all of you."

The sky above them trembled as if listening.

And then, with sorrow deep in his bones, the villain raised his hand.

"I didn't want to fight you."

Magic pulsed from him like broken stars.

"But I guess some stories were never meant to end kindly."

The battle erupted—not out of vengeance, but mourning.

Every strike whispered of memories.

Of a girl. A dream. A moment of peace that never lasted.

He stands, bleeding, trembling.

The Hero lies broken beneath moonlight.

The firefly jar glows faintly in the villain's hand.

He looks up at the sky and whispers,

"I just wanted one dinner. One night where I wasn't a monster."