Akitsu Shouga slowly opened his eyes.

  The familiar wooden ceiling greeted him.

  For a moment, he did not move. His body lay rigid, breath shallow, as though he feared that even the smallest motion might fracture the world around him. The scent of old wood and tea hung faintly in the air—real, solid, undeniable.

  He was inside the dojo.

  Then he noticed the low table before him.

  And the man seated calmly on the opposite side.

  Kurogane Daichi.

  Akitsu realized with a quiet jolt that he was already sitting upright, legs folded neatly beneath him, hands resting on his thighs as if this posture had been held for hours.

  Kurogane Daichi noticed the change in Akitsu’s expression at once and tilted his head, smiling faintly.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked with a light chuckle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Akitsu forced a laugh from his chest.

  “It’s nothing…”

  The words sounded convincing enough—but Ayame Hoshizaki, seated quietly to the side of the table, noticed what the others did not.

  For just a brief moment, Akitsu’s hands trembled.

  Kurogane Daichi lifted his bamboo cup, steam curling lazily upward.

  “You should drink your tea before it gets cold.”

  “Oh… yeah. I should.”

  Akitsu picked up the cup. The warmth seeped into his palms, grounding him, anchoring him to the present. He drank it in one go, barely registering the taste, then set the cup down with careful precision.

  His gaze drifted toward the open dojo doors.

  Beyond them, the night sky stretched endlessly—clear, deep, and scattered with stars so sharp they looked close enough to touch.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kurogane Daichi said quietly.

  “Yes… it is beautiful,” Akitsu replied.

  The silence that followed was not uncomfortable—but it was heavy, as if something unseen lingered just beyond perception, listening.

  “Hey, Akitsu-kun…” Kurogane Daichi spoke again.

  “Yes, Master?”

  “These past few days during training… I’ve realized something.”

  Daichi’s smile softened.

  “You’ve already mastered a martial art. There’s nothing left for me to teach you.”

  Akitsu blinked.

  “…What?”

  “You’re far ahead of me already,” Daichi continued calmly. “So I’ve decided to let you graduate.”

  Akitsu stared, confusion flickering across his face.

  “What do you mean?”

  Kurogane Daichi straightened his posture, his expression turning unusually serious.

  “Akitsu-kun…”

  He paused, as though weighing the words carefully.

  “Would you like to marry my daughter?”

  The question struck like a blunt weapon.

  Akitsu froze. His thoughts scattered, leaving his mind blank.

  “What’s wrong?” Daichi asked with a soft laugh. “You don’t want to marry my daughter?”

  “I mean…” Akitsu stammered. “If it’s okay with Hoshizaki-san… I guess I’ll do it.”

  Ayame lifted her gaze, calm and unwavering.

  “I’m fine with marrying Akitsu-kun.”

  Daichi clasped his hands together, visibly pleased.

  “Akitsu-kun, do you want to marry my daughter?”

  “…It’s alright with me,” Akitsu said, voice tight with nerves.

  “Alright!” Daichi declared cheerfully. “You two are now married!”

  “Huh?”

  The days that followed passed quietly.

  Too quietly.

  There was no ceremony. No celebration. No announcement.

  Ayame Hoshizaki and Akitsu Shouga simply became husband and wife—as though the world itself had decided this outcome was only natural.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Akitsu helped Kurogane Daichi and the villagers build a small church near the village center. He laughed with them. He worked until his hands ached. At night, he slept deeply, without dreams.

  Nothing strange happened.

  And that frightened him more than chaos ever had.

  One morning, Akitsu woke before sunrise and went for a walk.

  Roosters wandered freely along the dirt roads. The air was crisp, untouched by tension. Rice fields stretched endlessly, shimmering faintly beneath the pale morning sky.

  “This is pretty peaceful…” Akitsu whispered.

  He hesitated.

  “…Nothing strange has happened in the past few days.”

  His chest tightened.

  “I hope it doesn’t happen… I like how my life is right now.”

  A carriage approached.

  Pulled by a weary horse, it slowed beside him. A tall man leaned down from the driver’s seat.

  “Excuse me, could you help me?”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m looking for the village storage house,” the man said. “I need to deliver these fresh fruits before they rot.”

  “The storage house is in the village center,” Akitsu replied. “You’ll see it once you get there.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Akitsu watched as the carriage disappeared down the road.

  Something about the moment lingered.

  He turned back toward the dojo.

  The doors were open.

  It was quiet.

  Too quiet.

  Akitsu stepped inside—and stopped.

  Blood stained the floor.

  His breath caught in his throat.

  The door to Ayame Hoshizaki’s room stood open.

  “Ayame…?” he whispered.

  He stepped closer and pushed the door fully open.

  Inside—Ayame Hoshizaki and Kurogane Daichi hung from the ceiling, ropes biting into their necks.

  Ayame’s head was soaked in blood.

  Akitsu’s knees buckled. He collapsed onto the floor.

  “Why…?” His voice cracked. “Why?!”

  “Why does this always have to happen to me?!”

  “Why can’t I just live a peaceful life?!”

  “Why?! I didn’t even choose to be here!”

  Tears streamed down his face no matter how hard he tried to wipe them away.

  He staggered to his feet and walked outside.

  The village streets were chaos.

  Villagers ran past him, screaming, fleeing from the village center.

  Akitsu stood still, hollow and unmoving.

  Then he turned.

  Black smoke rose into the sky.

  His legs trembled. Tears fell again.

  “Damn it…” he whispered. “Why does it have to be this way?!”

  He tried to run—but someone shoved him aside.

  Akitsu fell. His head struck a rock.

  The world went dark.

  When he opened his eyes again—

  He stood upon the red island.

  Cracked crimson ground lay beneath his feet. The blood-red sakura tree loomed silently at its center, surrounded by endless black void.

  Fourteen red sakura petals drifted across the dark water now.

  Above the surface, countless red doors floated, waiting.

  “I’m back here again…” Akitsu murmured.

  He stepped toward the water—then stopped.

  Something compelled him to turn around.

  He approached the sakura tree and placed his hand against its bark. The surface felt warm. Alive.

  “Why am I the one who has a power like this?” he whispered. “It’s excruciating to die…”

  At the base of the tree, something new had grown.

  A single red spider lily.

  Akitsu stared at it for a long moment, understanding without words.

  Then he turned away.

  He stepped into the black water and walked toward a red door.

  When he opened it—

  The world fell into silence.