Chapter 23 – Fire in the Sky
The night sky was painted with colors. Reds, greens, blues — fireworks burst one after another, drawing cheers from the crowd. Children laughed, couples leaned on each other, and the air was thick with celebration.
But to Ashura… every burst wasn't light. It was fire.
His heart slammed against his ribs. His breath grew shallow. Each explosion ripped open memories he had tried to bury.
The heat. The screams. His mother's hand slipping from his.
Ashura: (muttering) "It's my fault… my fault… my fault…"
The mark on his palm flickered erratically, glowing through its bandage like a heartbeat gone mad.
Temari's eyes widened. She had been watching him the whole time. His thoughts screamed louder than the fireworks in her head — raw, broken, spiraling. "…I killed her. If I hadn't wanted to go… she'd still be alive."
Temari: (urgent whisper) "Ashura—!"
Before she could finish, his knees buckled. Ashura collapsed onto the cobblestone, clutching his head. Tears streamed freely, his body trembling as the past swallowed him whole.
The crowd gasped. Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Is he sick?"
"What's happening to him?"
"Get the guards!"
Temari dropped beside him instantly, shielding him from curious eyes. She gritted her teeth, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Temari: "Ashura! Look at me! You're here, you're safe! Snap out of it!"
But he couldn't hear her. In his mind, the festival had already become that night years ago. His mother's scream was all he heard.
The artifact flared, reacting to his broken state. A shockwave rippled from his body, rattling lanterns and knocking over stalls. People screamed as the ground trembled beneath them.
---
Elsewhere in the crowd.
Iroh's chopsticks froze midway to his mouth. His eyes narrowed as the air shifted. Fuyuko stubbed her cigar on the table, lips curling in annoyance.
Fuyuko: "That boy's losing it."
Iroh: (standing) "…Stay close."
The two veterans moved instantly, their steps sharp, presence cutting through the panic.
---
Back at the square, the chaos escalated. The tyrant's soldiers, disguised among the festival-goers, leapt into action. Spears clanged against the stone, and shouts of command cut through the confusion.
Guard Captain: "Seize the brat! Lord wants him alive!"
The crowd scattered in terror. Temari stood protectively in front of Ashura, blade drawn. Her eyes burned with defiance.
Temari: "Over my dead body."
The soldiers charged. Just as steel met steel, a sudden CRACK split the air. Iroh's sword intercepted, sparks raining as he pushed the guard back effortlessly.
Iroh: (voice like thunder) "Touch him, and you lose your hands."
Fuyuko followed, moving with terrifying calm. Her hands glowed faintly with healing energy — but her strikes landed like hammers, dropping armored men with casual precision.
Fuyuko: (grinning around her cigar) "Should've stayed home, boys."
---
Ashura writhed on the ground, the artifact surging out of control. Temari clutched his hand tight, whispering despite the chaos.
Temari: (soft, desperate) "It's not your fault… you hear me? None of it was your fault…"
Her words didn't reach him — not yet. But for the first time, her voice slipped through the storm, faint but steady.
And in that fragile moment, the
battlefield shifted.
---
To be continued....