The wind howled through the scorched trees, carrying the scent of soot and blood like the whispers of the dead. Hayato's boots crunched over blackened debris as he scanned the ruin of what had once been a remote village—now reduced to little more than cinders and skeletal wood. Ash drifted down like dead snow.
And then, he saw her.
Slumped beneath the skeleton of a burned tree was Kurai.
She looked like a ghost of herself—cloaked in rags, her once radiant skin pale and bruised, silver eyes dimmed to a flickering glow. Her breathing was shallow. But the moment she saw him, her lips moved.
"Hayato…"He dropped to his knees beside her, taking her into his arms. "I thought I lost you."
"I think… I lost myself first." Her voice was cracked, raw, full of pain. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
She leaned into his touch, but he could feel her trembling—not from fear, but from something inside her clawing its way to the surface.
"He took everything, Hayato," she said. "Your father. He didn't just imprison me—he made me into something else. A hybrid. A thing that isn't supposed to exist. He fused me with a demon against my will."
Hayato's eyes burned, but not from tears—from fury.
"I escaped," she continued. "Barely. I ran until my legs gave out. But… it's in me now. I can feel it. The demon. Growing. Taking more of me with every breath."
Her voice cracked again. She grabbed his hand, tightly—desperately.
"I'm losing myself. I hear voices in my head that aren't mine. I black out and wake up surrounded by blood. I don't remember what I did." She looked him in the eye, and for a moment, the real Kurai was still there. "I don't want to become his creation. Please… Hayato… I'd rather die as me."
Hayato froze. "Don't say that. There's still a way—there has to be—"
"No." She shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes. "There's no way back. Not for me. But you… you still have a future. You still have something left to protect."
Then her body jolted violently. She clutched her chest as her breathing hitched. Her eyes flashed red—unnatural and wild—and she screamed.
The transformation had begun.
Claws pushed from her fingertips. Horns cracked through her scalp. Veins bulged black beneath her skin. A demonic howl ripped from her throat.
"Hayato—!" she cried, her voice struggling through the distortion. "NOW! Before it's too late!"
He stared at her, frozen. She was still partly Kurai. Still his childhood friend. The girl who once sang lullabies to calm him. Who used to braid flowers into her hair and call him a dork when he got too serious.
But the beast inside her snarled, ready to consume her entirely.
Tears streamed down his face as he summoned the fire.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice trembling. "I'm so, so sorry."
Kurai gave him a faint smile—beautiful, broken, real. "Thank you… for finding me."
And then, with a final, wordless cry, Hayato plunged his burning blade through her heart.
The fire consumed her instantly—flames he controlled, flames that could not hurt him, but which took her away in the gentlest way he could manage.
She disintegrated into ash and light, her demonic form never fully manifesting, her soul freed before the corruption could finish its work.
He fell to his knees, holding what was left of her cloak, the wind scattering her ashes around him like grey snow.
He stayed there long into the night.
Alone again.
But never the same.