Months slipped by quietly—so quietly that it almost felt unnatural.
Japan had been peaceful. Too peaceful.
No sudden disturbances. No cursed outbreaks. No whispers of monsters lurking in the shadows. Just ordinary days stacking neatly atop one another, as if the world itself had decided to take a deep breath and pretend nothing had ever gone wrong.
Spring was almost here.
And with it, the end of the school year.
Just one more day.
Shoto Kazami stepped out of the school building as the doors slid shut behind him with a soft mechanical hiss. He didn't rush. For once, there was nowhere he needed to be. He tilted his head back, eyes drifting toward the vast, cloudless blue sky above.
Cherry blossoms fluttered gently through the air, petals catching the sunlight as they spiraled downward. One brushed his shoulder. Another landed briefly in his dark hair before the breeze carried it away.
"…Spring already," Shoto muttered.
The campus buzzed with life—students laughing, arguing over finals, complaining about teachers, dreaming aloud about summer plans. It all felt distant, muffled, like background noise in a world he only half belonged to.
Hands in his pockets, Shoto headed toward the front gate.
That was when he saw him.
Perched casually atop the metal railings near the school entrance was Neko.
The cat lounged shamelessly, fur gleaming in the afternoon sun, tail flicking lazily as golden eyes scanned the passing students with smug amusement. He looked completely at home, as if the school grounds were his personal territory.
When Neko noticed Shoto, a wide, toothy grin spread across his face.
"Well look who finally decided to stop brooding," Neko said, hopping down from the railing with exaggerated grace. "I was beginning to think you'd fused with the classroom desk."
Shoto sighed. "You could've just waited like a normal cat."
"Normal?" Neko scoffed. "I don't think that's how pets wait for their owners."
"You're not a pet."
"And yet here you are."
Shoto shook his head. The two walked together for a few steps—Shoto relaxed, Neko padding beside him—when suddenly, Neko stopped.
His ears twitched.
His grin vanished.
From behind the railing, a small silver-furred pup emerged.
It was about the size of a fox cub, its fur shimmering faintly, as though moonlight clung to it regardless of the bright afternoon sun. Its eyes were sharp—far too intelligent for any ordinary animal—and when they locked onto Neko, the air itself seemed to tighten.
The pup took a few deliberate steps forward.
Then it spoke.
"Niamzish."
The single word cut through the calm like a blade.
Neko froze.
His golden eye twitched—just once.
"…Tch."
Shoto noticed immediately. His posture stiffened. "Neko?"
Shoto looked between them, tension crawling up his spine. Then—without another word—he turned and began walking away.
Neko's eyes widened. "H-Hey—where are you going!?"
Shoto raised a hand in a casual wave, not even looking back.
"I'm heading somewhere. And from the looks of it…" he paused, glancing over his shoulder, "…you two have some catching up to do. I'll see you when I'm home."
And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.
The silver pup stepped closer, its presence suddenly heavier—darker—casting a shadow that stretched unnaturally long across the pavement.
"We don't have time for introductions again," it said calmly. "Just follow me."
Neko clicked his tongue. "…You're still bossy."
Yet he followed.
They moved through the city, weaving through side streets until the noise faded and the buildings pressed closer together. Eventually, they slipped into a narrow, forgotten alley—hidden from cameras, hidden from people, hidden from the world.
Waiting there were others.
A black raven perched atop a rusted fire escape, watching silently.
A green-scaled lizard clung to the brick wall, eyes half-lidded and amused.
A white-furred cat sat calmly near the ground, tail wrapped neatly around its paws.
Neko shifted.
Light shimmered around him as his form stretched and reshaped. Fur receded. Limbs lengthened. In seconds, he leaned back against the alley wall in human form.
Thick, messy brown hair fell around his face, two braids hanging at either side. Sharp green eyes studied the group with quiet authority. A thin scar ran from his left eyebrow down to his cheek. His long tail—very much not human—wrapped around his waist like a belt as he cracked his neck.
Niamzish glanced at the animals.
"Nobody comes here," he said evenly. "You can change back."
The raven leapt first.
Midair, black feathers unraveled into shadow, reforming into a slender woman with flowing dark hair. She landed lightly, boots scraping against concrete, dressed in a black tank top and tight black jeans.
The lizard followed—scales rippling as bone and flesh shifted into a lean man with sharp eyes and a wicked grin, dressed neatly in a slim tuxedo.
The white cat shimmered softly, rising into a pale-haired woman with calm, watchful eyes.
Niamzish watched them all.
"…Looks like the whole cursed team is here," he muttered.
"So," Niamzish said flatly, tail flicking once in irritation, "why are we here, mutt?"
The silver pup was already gone.
In its place stood a massive, muscular man, wolf fur draped over his body like a mantle. A great wolf's head rested over his own like a ceremonial helm, fangs bared in a perpetual snarl. He bent slightly, rubbing the back of the fur with a satisfied groan.
"Ahhh—man, it's stiff back here…"
He straightened and grinned. "First of all, say my name properly. It's Ragna."
Niamzish clicked his tongue. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Ragna-the-mutt."
Ragna ignored him, eyes lighting up. "More importantly—was that kid just now… the reincarnation of the king you kept yapping about from your era?"
Niamzish didn't answer immediately. He stared at Ragna for a long moment—then looked away.
"…Yeah."
A beat.
Then—
"HELL YEAH!"
Ragna pumped his fist into the air, wolf fur shifting wildly. "That means we can finally turn back to normal with the Rune Gate, right?! No more fur! No more disgusting fur! We're finally gonna be human again!"
"Ragna," Niamzish said flatly, "don't be dense."
The raven-woman crossed her arms. Feathers of shadow flickered briefly at her shoulders.
Her refined British accent cut clean through the excitement.
"We can't even return to full human forms with the gate," she said. "Even if we wanted to. Seeing it at all is nearly impossible."
Ragna deflated instantly. "…Oh."
Across the alley, the lizard-man leaned against the wall, sharp-toothed grin widening.
"Well," he drawled, "Rune Gate or not—I've finally got a plan for myself."
Niamzish slowly turned to him.
Paused.
Then looked away.
"…Yeah," he said dryly. "Sure you do."
The lizard hissed with laughter.
Niamzish exhaled through his nose, scanning the group.
"Great," he muttered. "A wolf idiot, a sarcastic bird, a scheming lizard, and a half-asleep prophet. This is already giving me a headache."
None of them argued.
Slyth—the lizard—snapped his fingers. "We should have a contest! See who's the best Leader and Co-Leader. A little fight."
Ragna's grin turned feral. "A contest, huh? Sounds fun. You up for it, Niamzish?"
Niamzish frowned, staring at the ground. "I'm not too sure about thi—"
"Perfect!" Slyth cut in. "Two weeks from now. Best of two matches. Ragna's team versus the reincarnated king's team—your team."
Before Niamzish could respond, Slyth reverted to his lizard form and slithered away.
"…What about you?" Niamzish called.
No answer.
Ragna laughed, standing and patting Niamzish's head.
"I'll see you in two weeks. I'm sure it'll be fun!"
He transformed back into a silver pup and dashed off.
Morrígan turned into a raven and took to the sky.
The white-haired cat, Azul, lingered, watching Niamzish quietly.
"Be safe," she said softly.
Then she too reverted and walked away.
Niamzish transformed back into a cat, staring down at the concrete.
He sighed.
"…'Be fun,' they said."
The river flowed quietly.
Sunlight shimmered across its surface, bending and breaking as the current carried petals, leaves, and the unspoken weight of passing time downstream. The city felt distant here—muted, softened—like the world itself had chosen this narrow stretch of water as a place to slow down and breathe.
Shoto Kazami stood at the edge of the riverbank, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes fixed on the steady movement of the current.
He had been waiting.
Not impatiently—just… thinking.
The breeze brushed through his hair, cool against his skin, carrying with it the faint scent of spring. Somewhere behind him, footsteps approached.
Soft. Familiar.
A finger tapped his shoulder.
"Hey, Shoto!"
He turned, a smile already forming before he fully faced her.
Yumiko stood there, sunlight catching in her hair, her expression bright and warm in a way that made his chest tighten. Before he could say anything, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his, hugging it tightly for a moment before letting go and placing her hands behind her back.
"Hey, Yumiko…" Shoto said softly.
She leaned toward the river, rocking slightly on her heels. "Thanks for inviting me out here." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, smiling knowingly. "Just to talk? Or were you planning on asking me something?"
Shoto swallowed.
"W-We've been dating for a while now…" he began, his voice quieter than he intended. He rubbed the back of his head, eyes drifting anywhere except her face. "…And, um… there's something I wanted to ask you."
Yumiko's smile softened. She turned her gaze back to the river, hands still tucked behind her back.
"Mhm," she hummed.
The sound alone nearly made him lose his nerve.
Shoto took a breath.
"With everything that's been going on," he continued carefully, "we haven't really… gone on a proper date yet. So I thought maybe—"
She turned to face him.
"So?" she asked gently.
"S-So maybe I could take you out on a da—"
A sudden mechanical whirring tore through the moment.
A small white robot rolled out from behind a nearby tree, its body smooth and rounded, eyes glowing an unsettling shade of blue. It stopped directly in front of them and snapped to attention.
Both Shoto and Yumiko froze.
The robot tilted its head upward.
"SHOTO KAZAMI."
Its voice was loud, cheerful, and completely tone-deaf to the situation.
"YOU AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND HAVE BEEN FORMALLY INVITED INTO SPACE."
Silence.
The river continued to flow.
Cherry blossom petals drifted by.
Shoto blinked.
Yumiko blinked.
"…H-huh?" they said in unison.
Shoto slowly pointed at the robot, his hand trembling slightly. "S-Space… as in… outer space?"
"AFFIRMATIVE." The robot raised a tiny metallic arm. "TRANSPORT WILL BE PROVIDED. PREPARATION TIME: MINIMAL. EXCITEMENT LEVEL: RECOMMENDED."
Yumiko stared at it for a long moment.
Then she turned to Shoto.
"…Is this part of the date?" she asked.
Shoto opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"…I was just gonna say dinner," he muttered.
The robot beeped happily.
Shoto stared at it like it might suddenly apologize and roll away.
It didn't.
Instead, it projected a hologram between its hands—stars, orbiting rings, and a massive glowing structure floating in the void.
"DESTINATION: ORBITAL FACILITY — ASTRAL GATEWAY ONE."
Yumiko leaned closer, eyes wide. "…That's… actually really pretty."
Shoto snapped his head toward her. "You're not seriously considering this."
She tilted her head, smiling. "Well, you did say you wanted to take me out."
"…Not off the land," he replied weakly.
Yumiko laughed softly, the sound light and genuine. She stepped closer, her shoulder brushing his arm. "Hey," she said gently, "it's okay. Weird things kind of… follow you around, remember?"
"That's not a good thing."
"But it's your thing," she replied, meeting his eyes. "And you didn't lie. You are taking me somewhere special."
Shoto hesitated.
The river shimmered beside them. The city hummed faintly behind them. This quiet moment—this was what he had planned. Something normal. Something simple.
And yet…
He looked at Yumiko.
Calm. Trusting. Smiling at him like the universe hadn't just invited them into orbit.
"…You're really okay with this?" he asked.
She nodded without hesitation. "As long as I'm with you."
That settled it.
Shoto exhaled slowly and turned toward the robot. "…Alright. What exactly are we being invited for?"
The robot's eyes flashed.
"AYATO KAZAMI. YOUR FATHER WISHES TO SPEAK WITH YOU."
Shoto stiffened. "…Dad?"
The robot tilted its head, briefly tapping the top of its own chassis as if recalibrating.
Then—
Light folded inward.
The air shimmered violently as Shoto, Yumiko, and the robot vanished mid-breath.
They reappeared inside a massive white orbital chamber.
A long, elegant bridge stretched forward into the distance, surrounded by curved walls of glass that revealed the endless cosmos beyond. The Moon loomed beneath them, pale and silent, while stars glittered endlessly above.
Shoto stumbled forward, catching himself as gravity settled. He rushed to the window, eyes wide.
"…No way…"
Yumiko burst into laughter, spinning once before jumping up and down in excitement. "We're in space!" she exclaimed, running a short circle before stopping beside him. "Can you believe it, Shoto?!"
He barely heard her.
His gaze remained fixed on the stars.
"…What would Dad be doing in a place like this…?" he murmured.
The small robot began rolling forward across the pristine white floor.
"FOLLOW."
Yumiko smiled and stepped after it without hesitation.
Shoto lingered for a moment longer—then turned, following the robot and Yumiko into the unknown.
Shoto drifted toward another window as they walked, his steps slowing.
Outside the glass, the Moon stretched endlessly beneath them—silent, pale, and scarred with ancient craters. But it wasn't the surface that held his attention.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of small machines moved in precise, synchronized patterns above it.
Robots.
They flew in tight formations, metallic bodies glinting under distant starlight, carrying massive segmented panels, glowing frameworks, and unfamiliar components that slowly locked together in orbit. Some welded. Others scanned. A few hovered, projecting holographic schematics that pulsed with unreadable symbols.
They weren't repairing anything.
They were building.
Something enormous.
Something that very clearly should not be there.
Shoto's chest tightened.
"…What are they making?" he muttered.
The question went unanswered.
Instead, another thought pressed heavier against his mind.
Why is my dad in space?
The robot continued to guide them down the pristine corridor until the walls shifted from smooth white glass to reinforced metal. Thick doors slid open with a low hum.
LABORATORY — RESTRICTED ACCESS
They stepped inside.
The room was vast and sterile, filled with floating holograms, suspended machinery, and towering pillars of light that stretched from floor to ceiling. At the center stood a single man.
He wore a long black coat that brushed the floor, its edges faintly rippling as if charged with static. His black hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and even from behind, his presence was unmistakable.
He was waiting.
Before Shoto could speak, the man turned.
Sharp eyes locked instantly onto Shoto and Yumiko—then softened.
A smile crossed his face.
"You're here, my son."
Shoto stopped walking.
For a moment, all the questions—the robots, the Moon, the impossible lab—fell away.
"…Hey, Dad," Shoto said quietly.