Chapter Two

The two collide—a thunderous impact shakes the air as Dawn's fist clashes against Joki's.

Joki swiftly evades, darting between buildings with effortless agility.

(He's strong—way stronger than I expected. In that moment, his physical strength completely outclassed mine.) Joki thinks, eyes sharp as he studies his opponent. But the way he's moving… it's almost like he's scared.

He hesitates. The uncertainty gnaws at him. Dawn is powerful, but something feels off.

Meanwhile, Dawn pushes forward, trying to close the distance. But no matter how hard he tries, Joki is faster. Frustration builds within him.

(I can't keep up… In that instant, I couldn't even tell where he was!) Dawn realizes, landing back onto the cracked pavement below. Sparks of static ripple across his body—his Reiki, unstable and erratic.

Joki narrows his eyes. He's seen this before. This isn't just reckless energy—this is dangerous.

"You ready to calm the hell down?" Joki calls out, perching himself on a crumbling rooftop. "You can't hope to stop me in the state you're in."

(Joki's Reiki Percentage: 94%)

(Emotional Quota: Sane)

Dawn's gaze snaps up at him, his breath uneven.

"You're awfully confident for someone who won't engage in combat," Dawn sneers, but Joki notices the slight tremor in his stance.

Joki reaches for his sword—but stops. Something inside him resists. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself. But something about Dawn makes him pause.

"You don't want to fight," Joki declares.

"What the hell are you saying?" Dawn snaps.

Joki exhales, his grip loosening. "I've fought hundreds of people. I know the look of someone who wants to fight. You don't. That's why I'm telling you to stop."

Suddenly, Dawn blinks—

And sees ghosts from his past.

A Fragmented Memory

"Hey! Double, was it? You're really strong… but every time you fight, it's like you're scared. What's wrong with you, kid? Loosen up a little."

Dawn stiffens. The memory is vivid—too vivid.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?!" his past self barks. "The name I'd rather go by is Dawn. Dawn!"

Then—something shifts. His surroundings warp, twist, dissolve. His breath quickens.

(Where am I? What… is going on?)

A voice slithers into his mind.

(You don't recognize this, do you, Dawn? Poor baby. This must be new to you.)

Dawn's eyes dart around the fractured space, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs. The world is wrong—distorted shapes, blurred figures, voices that don't belong.

"Who the hell are you?!" he demands, his voice cracking. "Answer me! Am I going to die? Is this hell?! Stop toying with me!"

(You'll have to figure that out yourself. Such bravado on the outside… but inside? A fragile little boy.) The voice chuckles, a sound that chills him to his core. (Let's just hope your Emotional Quota doesn't drop lower… or you'll be in danger. Hehe~.)

(Dawn's Reiki Percentage: 40%)

(Emotional Quota: Splintered Veil)

Joki watches from the rooftop, his expression grim.

(Splintered Veil… but this is worse than anything I've ever seen. He doesn't even know what's real anymore.)

Suddenly—A violent surge of Reiki erupts from Dawn's body.

A piercing screech of static rips through the air. Joki's ears burst with pain.

Then—a single cry cuts through the chaos.

"…help!"

Joki's breath hitches. That was different.

Throwing caution to the wind, he leaps down.

Dawn is on his knees, clutching his head, fingers digging into his hair. His body trembles, his breathing uneven, frantic.

"Listen," Joki kneels beside him, voice steady. "You burned yourself out too fast. You're in what's called Splintered Veil. If you don't calm down now, it's going to get worse. And if that happens… you're beyond saving."

The Reiki crackling around Dawn suddenly vanishes.

His eyes go blank.

Then—he collapses.

Joki catches his breath, staring down at the unconscious boy. Something had saved him.

(He went way past his limits… but he didn't enter the next stage of Emotional Quota. It's like a miracle happened.)

The rain starts falling harder.

Joki hoists Dawn onto his shoulder and looks up at the stormy sky. He sighs.

(It's… strange. In every battle I've fought, I've always had that moment—that instinct to kill. But with him… it never came. He never wanted to kill me either. Not even once.)

A small smile tugs at Joki's lips.

Lightning flashes behind him. He doesn't flinch. He just walks forward.

Elsewhere…

Far in the distance, outside a crumbling café, a woman watches. Her expression is twisted with disgust.

"Another inheritor of the Sakusei… stolen from our grasp," she murmurs. "The grace of death should have taken him. But Joki—a man who escaped his fate—continues to disgrace what it means to inherit such an ability."

"You should be grateful he has that ability," a voice replies.

The woman turns, eyes narrowing as a man emerges from the shadows of the broken-down café.

Kashikoi.

"You and that boy have history," she muses. "You know more about him than I do. And yet, every time you speak of him… I see that same sad look in your eyes." She tilts her head, lips curling slightly. "It gets harder to face the past every day, doesn't it?"

Kashikoi's expression darkens. His jaw tightens.

"You have no right to speak on how I feel," he mutters coldly. "We share a common goal. But that's all there is to it."

His eyes shift toward the horizon. "That Sakusei inheritor—he's different. Joki wouldn't overlook something like that. I fear that boy might be… more trouble than we anticipated."

The woman's fingers twitch. Her breathing grows shallow.

"Hey…" Kashikoi steps forward. "Are you—"

"I'm fine."

She cuts him off, grabbing his hands gently.

"Please," she whispers. "You can't let that boy fall into the wrong hands. The grace of death will heal the soul of that cursed inheritor. Do what's right, Kashikoi."

Kashikoi exhales slowly, pressing his knuckles against his lips. His brow furrows, casting deep shadows over his eyes.

Then, after a long pause—

"Yeah… I'll do what's right."