Ken woke up at the sunrise. There was no mother calling him, no warm bed surrounding his small body. Only the rough wooden floor, the smell of the sea, and the sound of the waves. He opened his eyes slowly, and then he remembered. He remembered everything.
He stayed lying there motionless, staring at the gray sky. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but something inside him had already broken. His chest trembled silently, then finally his tears burst out. He tried to hide his crying voice, but he couldn't.
Randy woke up first, followed by Yoko. They exchanged a quick glance, then Randy came closer and knelt beside him, wrapping his arms around him without a single word. There was nothing to say.
He whispered softly, holding him gently:
"It's okay… we'll arrive in an hour."
Ken didn't answer. He just closed his eyes while he's still in his arms. And after a while, a land began to show in the shore.
Ken asked in a whispering voice:
"Is that… Orakano?"
"Yes…"
Randy answered, his eyes were fixed on the shore.
"We've arrived."
Yoko asked:
"Is it big?"
Randy replied while staring at the horizon:
"It's not a city, but it's bigger than it looks. Its population is close to one and a half million."
They thought that land would be salvation, but it looked like another piece of a shattered reality. They stepped out of the boat, their clothes were torn, their skins were cracked from salt and sun, and their eyes were lifeless.
A man in an official uniform approached, gave them a quick look, then said:
"Where did you come from?"
Randy replied firmly:
"From Ruby Kingdom. We escaped after… everyone's died."
The man pointed towards the other side of the shore:
"There is a camp for survivors. You might find someone you know."
There was a crowd under the tents. Many people with a broken eyes. Suddenly, Randy froze in place. His eyes widened, and he screamed:
"Aunt!! Uncle!!!"
He ran like a madman and threw himself into the arms of a man and woman. The scene was painful and comforting at the same time.
Ken stopped, then muttered while watching them:
"I wish I could find someone… anyone."
Yoko didn't answer. She just held his hand quietly. But suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the noise:
"Yoko?! Yoko!!!"
She raised her head quickly.
"Aunt?"
She ran and fell into her arms crying:
"They all died… all of them…"
Her aunt held her tight as if she would never let her go again.
"I thought I lost you… but you came back. That's enough for me."
Yoko raised her head, wiped her tears, then pointed behind her:
"And this is Ken… my friend. He lost his family just like me."
But her aunt looked at Ken differently. Cold and sharp. She said slowly:
"I'm sorry, I can't take care of strangers' children. I already have enough to deal with."
Yoko took a step forward and begged:
"But he's alone… completely alone."
Her aunt replied with indifference:
"That's not my concern."
She grabbed Yoko's hand and pulled her away by force.
"Ken!!"
Yoko screamed.
"Wait, Aunt! I just want to say goodbye to him!"
But her aunt didn't look back. She ignored her screams like they didn't exist. And Ken stood frozen in place, watching her getting dragged away from him. His only friend was taken from him.
He cried out with a broken voice:
"Goodbye… Yoko… we will meet again, I promise…"
No one answered him. He stood alone in the crowd. No one beside him. No mother. No father. No Dan. No Emily. No Yoko. But his eyes didn't extinguish. He was still alive, and that only was enough.
Hours passed like ages. Ken sat alone on the worn wooden chair at the edge of the beach, his head lowered, staring at the ground like someone who lost everything. The voices faded, the crowds scattered, and nothing remained around him except a few footprints on the sand. Everyone here found someone to hold them, or at least… someone to call their name. But him, no one called his name.
The sun began to set when his body started trembling from the inside. Not from cold, but from emptiness. He wrapped his arms around his chest and shrank as if he's returning to a womb that no longer existed. He breathed slowly, closed his eyes… and the pain returned.
His shoulder throbbed again, as if the bullet that pierced him was reminding him he was still alive despite everything. He placed his hand on it and gasped silently. His tears weren't loud this time, but more like an inner collapse.
Suddenly, he heard a footsteps approaching through the sand. He lifted his eyes slowly and saw an old man walking calmly. His face was carved with wrinkles, but in his blue eyes there was something familiar… not pity, but understanding.
The man spoke in a warm low voice:
"Son… have you been sitting here alone since morning?"
Ken replied while wiping his face quickly:
"I don't know… I don't know the time anymore… nor where I'm supposed to go."
The old man came closer and sat beside him silently. Then he took out a small handkerchief from his coat and handed it to him. After a moment, he said:
"Your accent isn't from here… are you from Ruby?"
Ken nodded slowly, then whispered with a hoarse voice:
"Yes… my city was burned. My mother and father died… my brother… my sister… and the twins inside my mother… no one is left."
The old man didn't respond immediately. He stared ahead at the sea, then placed his hand gently on Ken's shoulder.
"I'm sorry son… my name is Laud. You can call me grandpa."
Ken looked at him and said with a broken voice:
"My name is Ken…"
Laud smiled and said:
"Nice to meet you, Ken… are you looking for someone? Relatives? Friends?"
Ken replied sadly:
"No one… no one is waiting for me."
Laud sighed, then turned toward him and said firmly:
"In that case, come with me. I don't have much, but I have a warm roof… and some bread. You can stay as long as you want."
Ken raised his eyes slowly. Exhaustion in them deeper than his age. He whispered:
"Why?"
Laud smiled a smile that wasn't pity… but something else. As if he knew this feeling well.
"Because I lost my family long ago… and maybe it's time to find a new one."
Ken didn't say anything. He just stared at him for long seconds, then stood up silently and followed him. He didn't feel salvation, but he felt that this step might save him from collapsing.
Three years passed.
Ken became eleven. He was no longer that completely lost boy. He woke up to the sound of dishes in the kitchen, hearing Laud humming old songs while baking, and they would eat together in comfortable silence. In the evening, Laud would tell him stories of his youth, his battles, women he loved, and distant places Ken only saw in his imagination.
He taught him how to chop wood, and how to bandage a wound. Sometimes, when Ken felt pain from training, Laud would rub him with special oil and tell him with a smile:
"Good scars don't heal fast… because they remind you that you survived."
But in one winter morning, the house was quieter than usual. There was no sound of dishes and no footsteps. Ken sat alone at the table, staring at the empty plate. He waited, but no one came.
And on that day… Ken knew that Laud would never wake him again. His eyes were empty. Inside him, he remembered that first encounter with Cirrus. It happened shortly after he arrived at Orakano Island.
In one of the island parks overlooking the sea, with the wind brushing through the trees, Cirrus appeared.
He had no guards around him. He looked like someone who didn't need anyone. He was in his early thirties then, with thick red hair swaying with the wind, and gray eyes that looked exactly like Ken's. On his left cheek, an X-shaped scar sliced through his skin.
His steps were calm and arogant. He didn't walk, he imposed existence. He was wearing a royal embroidered clothes, and when people noticed him, their voices rose:
"It's Cirrus!"
"The tyrant! The killer!"
But Cirrus didn't turn. He didn't care. He didn't even look.
Ken was walking with Laud at that moment. He stopped and lifted his head.
"Grandpa… I heard them saying the name Cirrus."
Laud replied in disbelief:
"That's… impossible."
But the impossible was right there, only a few meters away. People started throwing stones at him, their screams were rising, but he didn't move. He avoided every stone as if the wind itself shifted around him. Ken didn't see a person… he saw a disaster walking on two legs. That face… those eyes… he didn't need to hear his name. He looked more like him than his father ever did.
Ken pushed through the crowd, coming closer until only a few steps remained. His face was still, then began to twist.
"You bastard… you killed my mother. My father. Dan. Emily… even my unborn siblings. You destroyed me."
He launched a fireball from his palm with the rage of a child who didn't understand the scale of the monster before him. But the flames disappeared before they reached Cirrus, like the air itself betrayed their owner. Cirrus returned it with the simplest motion, as if it were nothing. Then he raised his eyebrow mockingly… and smiled.
Laud screamed from behind the crowd, there was a fear in his voice:
"Ken! Stop immediately!"
Cirrus fixed his gaze on the boy and stepped closer, his voice came out cold:
"What a coincidence… I never expected to meet one of Akako's sons here."
Whispers spread among the crowd:
"Who is this little boy?"
"He has Fire Vakin!"
"Is he fighting… Cirrus?"
"Impossible… he'll be killed!"
But Ken didn't care and didn't fear. He stared at Cirrus like a child staring at his nightmare, and said with a voice hoarse and filled with hatred:
"Don't say my father's name with your filthy mouth… I will end you with my own hands."
Cirrus laughed a laugh that carved itself into Ken's heart.
"A small child threatening the greatest man on earth? Amusing. Do you think you can survive, and fight me?"
Ken's eyes burned.
"I will kill you… even if I died first… I will kill you!!"
He charged with everything he had, but he never reached him. Cirrus extended his hand, grabbed Ken by the neck as if picking up a feather. He lifted him into the air. His hands flailed, his feet searched for ground. No air. No resistance.
Cirrus spoke with sharp calm tone:
"I like your hatred, nephew. So I won't kill you today. What's your name?"
Ken, despite his trembling voice, didn't avert his eyes while he answered:
"My name… is Yukaji Ken. And I will be the one… to cut off your head."
Cirrus struck him once without a reply, sending him crashing to the ground. Blood dripped from the corner of Ken's mouth. Cirrus approached and leaned slightly.
"I'll be waiting then, Yukaji Ken. If you grow up. If you don't die before that. By the way, no one has ever injured me… except one man."
Ken forced himself to lift his head, staring at the scar slicing Cirrus's cheek… Silence settled. Until footsteps broke it.
Laud was running toward him through the crowd without hesitation.
"Ken! We are leaving now, immediately!"