The New Year arrived with thunder.

  Above the city, fireworks split the night into bursts of gold and crimson. Trails of smoke curled against the stars, glowing faintly in the afterlight. The crowd below roared as another volley shot skyward. Strangers shouted

  “Happy New Year!”

  Until their voices blended into a single roar that swept down the avenues.

  On the ground, confetti spiraled through the cold air. Children jumped to catch it. Adults raised their drinks or hugged whoever happened to be closest. For a moment, the entire city seemed united in joy, breathing in the promise of a fresh start.

  Yukio barely looked up.

  He stepped out of a casino that loomed like a neon cathedral, its signboards blazing with colors that made the night sky look dim by comparison.

  A rolling cascade of light flickered down the facade in electric blues and hot pinks, spilling over the sidewalk. The air buzzed with electricity, as if the very building hummed with restless energy.

  He adjusted the hood of his faded green sweatshirt and took a slow breath. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth—subtle, private. In his chest, though, there was fire.

  “Guess the house lost tonight,”

  He muttered. His voice carried the kind of quiet certainty only a gambler knew after surviving a dozen close calls.

  “Yeah. I won big.”

  At eighteen, Yukio didn’t look like someone who’d just walked out with a fortune. He was lean, a little underfed, with black hair that constantly fell into his eyes no matter how often he pushed it back.

  His blue eyes carried a sharpness that contrasted with the rest of him, bright like glass under sunlight. A pair of silver sakura earrings caught the neon glow, winking every time he moved his head.

  The rest of him looked like a kid who hadn’t thought much about style: baggy jeans, sneakers that had lost their color months ago, and a hoodie stretched at the cuffs. Still, something about the way he carried himself made the difference clear—he wasn’t leaving empty-handed.

  He pulled out his phone and unlocked it with swift, practiced motions. Numbers glared back at him, bold and impossible: ￥173,425,500.

  Even seeing it with his own eyes, he almost laughed. He knew better than most how money never stayed long in a gambler’s hands. But this time, it wasn’t for him.

  His thumb hovered over the transfer button. Then, without hesitation, he sent the balance away. Every yen vanished into another account.

  He typed a short message, his grin softening into something more tender.

  It’s time your lives got a lot easier. All of it is for you.

  Yukio slipped the phone back into his pocket, exhaled, and walked into the crowd as if nothing monumental had just happened.

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  Back in their cramped apartment across town, Nozomi was washing the last few dishes from dinner. The sink dripped steadily; the single fluorescent light above the kitchen flickered every so often. The space smelled faintly of soy sauce and old tatami.

  Tsutomu sat at the small dining table, his calloused hands rubbing at tired eyes. Years of construction work had bent his posture, and the bills stacked in front of him were another weight he couldn’t quite shrug off.

  “Electricity again,”

  He muttered, glancing at the latest envelope.

  “We’ll be late if we don’t—”

  The chime of a phone interrupted him.

  Nozomi glanced at the counter. Her phone screen glowed with a notification. Wiping her wet hands on her apron, she picked it up.

  Her breath caught.

  “Tsutomu…”

  Her voice trembled as she shoved the phone toward him.

  “Look at this. Just look!”

  He frowned and leaned closer. His brow furrowed as he tried to read the number. Then his eyes widened. He counted the digits once. Twice. A third time.

  “That’s… no. That can’t be right. This isn’t real.”

  Before either could say more, another message appeared.

  It’s time your lives got a lot easier. All of it is for you.

  For a long moment, the apartment went completely silent. Even the hum of the refrigerator seemed to vanish.

  Then Nozomi laughed. It wasn’t steady—it cracked, caught halfway between a sob and a gasp—but it was laughter nonetheless. Tears blurred her vision as she threw her arms around her husband.

  Tsutomu’s eyes glistened too. His voice was hoarse when he managed,

  “That boy… what did he do?”

  He grabbed his phone, fumbling with the keypad.

  “I have to call him. I have to—”

  Before he could finish, the sound of shuffling feet came from the hallway.

  Megumi pushed open the sliding door, rubbing at her eyes. Sixteen, stubborn, and sharp-tongued, she was not in the mood for drama at midnight. Her hair stuck out at odd angles, her pajamas still wrinkled from sleep.

  “Seriously?”

  She grumbled.

  “It’s past midnight. Some of us like sleeping, you know.”

  She froze when she saw her parents’ tear-streaked faces. Her mother clutched the phone like it was something holy.

  “What… happened?”

  Megumi asked, frowning.

  Her father turned, his voice thick with emotion.

  “Your brother. He… Megumi, he just sent us money. A lot of money.”

  Megumi raised an eyebrow.

  “Money? What, like a few thousand yen?”

  Her mother shook her head, thrusting the phone toward her.

  “Look.”

  Megumi snatched it and stared. Her eyes widened as she scrolled, trying to make sense of the digits on the screen. The number looked unreal, something out of a fantasy drama.

  Her jaw dropped.

  “This… This can’t be real.”

  She looked between her parents, as if waiting for one of them to admit it was a prank. When neither did, she swore under her breath and pulled out her own phone.

  She dialed Yukio immediately. The line clicked, and before he could even greet her, she snapped,

  “Yukio! What did you do? Explain this right now!”

  On the other end, Yukio’s voice was calm. Almost amused.

  “Relax, Megumi.”

  He chuckled, low and steady.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything when I get home.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “This better not be illegal, Yukio.”

  But the line had already gone quiet, leaving her fuming, her parents crying, and the impossible fortune still glowing on the screen.

  Outside, fireworks crackled in the distance, echoing through the city like the heartbeat of a new year.

  And somewhere in the crowd, Yukio walked on with a quiet smile, carrying a secret only he seemed ready for.

  But deep in his chest, something stirred,

  a pull,

  a whisper,

  a shift in the unseen threads of the world.

  Something had changed.

  Something important.

  Something irreversible.

  Yukio didn't notice the faint shimmer behind his eyes, or how the air around him pulsed once, just enough to distort the falling snow for a brief moment.

  He disappeared into the crowd.

  And far away,

  beyond sound, beyond time, beyond anything a human consciousness could grasp,

  a vast, starless void trembled.

  A small childlike figure drifted in the darkness, weightless, shape shifting like mist given life. Its eyes glowed with an ancient light that didn't match its youthful silhouette.

  It smiled.

  Then raised a tiny hand.

  Ripples spread through the black like waves across water, distorting reality itself.

  A soft, playful giggle echoed.

  "It's time,"

  the being whispered.

  "Time for you to meet your destiny, Yukio…"

  The void pulsed once more,

  And the unseen threads of fate began to turn.