Kai stood frozen for several breaths after Kiyomono vanished into the pale evening light. The place where the fox spirit had stood still shimmered faintly, as though moonlight clung to the air in the shape of a fading memory. His arms felt cold—Kiyomono's warmth still lingering in them like a ghost refusing to leave.
The river beside him murmured softly, as if trying to fill the hollow space left behind.
Kai slowly looked down at his palm.
The pearl lay there, small and iridescent, glowing faintly with a soft hue like a sleeping star. A warmth pulsed from within it—steady, alive, and heartbreakingly familiar.
He clutched it to his chest.
"Kiyomono…" he whispered, voice trembling. "Why does saying goodbye hurt like this…?"
He didn't know how long he stood there.
Minutes.
Or maybe hours.
Time felt thin, stretched out, trembling with emotion like the surface of the river.
Footsteps rustled behind him.
"Kai?"
Ren's voice.
Kai didn't turn immediately—not because he didn't want to, but because he feared he would cry the moment Ren saw his face. And he wasn't sure why the emotion was so complicated. Why the goodbye of someone he had only truly met yesterday felt like losing a piece of the sky.
Ren approached quietly, almost cautiously.
He stopped beside Kai, looking at the empty stone where Kiyomono once sat.
"…He's really gone?"
Kai nodded slowly.
Ren exhaled softly. "I searched everywhere. House. Garden. Forest path. Even Grandpa Shun and Haruto went into the fields to search. The whole family almost formed a rescue team." A small, helpless laugh. "Mom was ready to call the police for a missing fox."
That made Kai smile faintly, but only faintly.
Ren's gaze dropped to Kai's clenched fist.
"What did he give you?" Ren asked gently.
Kai hesitated—then opened his palm.
The pearl glowed softly in the growing dusk, as if responding to their presence.
Ren's breath hitched.
"That… that light—" His voice trembled. "It's the same glow I saw around Auren in the dream…"
Kai swallowed hard. "Kiyomono said… the memories from our second life are inside this."
Ren's eyes widened. "Our memories?"
Kai nodded.
Ren reached out, fingertips brushing the edge of the pearl—but he didn't touch it fully. He stopped, as if afraid his touch would break something sacred.
"Kai… do you want to see it now?" Ren asked, voice soft.
Kai looked at the sky—colors of dying sunlight reflected in the river, blending gold into lavender. A wind passed through the reeds, carrying a faint sense of longing.
"…Not here," Kai whispered. "Kiyomono said this is his gift. Something that carries everything we forgot… and everything we suffered. I want to see it where we're safe. Together."
Ren nodded slowly. "Then let's go home."
Kai finally turned to him.
Ren's expression was gentle—concern written in every line of his face, in every flick of his lashes, in every tiny tremor of his fingers. It was strange, Kai thought.
Just two months ago, they were strangers in a classroom and a small manga studio.
And now…
They were walking through lifetimes together.
Ren reached out, quietly intertwining their fingers.
"Come," he murmured. "Everyone is worried. And… I was worried too."
Kai tightened his grip slightly. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize." Ren looked straight at him. "If you're hurting, you can tell me. Even if it's something you think is silly or impossible. Even if it's from another world. I'll listen."
It was Ren's casual honesty that always hit the deepest.
Kai inhaled shakily, then nodded.
Together, they walked back along the river path, shadows stretching beside them like ancient memories following silently.
The sky deepened to violet by the time they reached the house. Lanterns were lit across the front porch, glowing warm gold. The smell of hot tea drifted from the kitchen, and voices murmured from inside—Ren's large, chaotic family still restless from the morning's frantic search.
As soon as they entered, Mika darted toward them. "Kai! Ren! Where were you? Do you know how long we've been—"
She froze when she saw Kai's red-rimmed eyes. Her face softened immediately.
"…You found him, didn't you?"
Kai nodded.
Ren squeezed Kai's hand subtly. "We'll explain later. Kiyomono's safe. He just… needed some time."
Grandpa Shun, sitting cross-legged near the low table, frowned deeply. "Hmph. Spirits come and go as they please. Foxes are like wind—they vanish when you try to hold them, and appear when you least expect."
"But we love him already!" Mika protested, puffing her cheeks. "He can't run away!"
Grandpa Shun chuckled. "Foxes love being loved. He'll return."
Kai lowered his gaze.
He wasn't so sure.
Kiyomono didn't look back once.
Ren noticed the shift in Kai's expression but didn't comment. Instead, he tugged lightly on Kai's hand.
"Come to my room," Ren murmured. "Let's… open the pearl together."
They slipped away amid the noise.
Ren's room was quiet.
Dim.
Window half-open to the night air.
They sat on the tatami floor facing each other, knees nearly touching.
The pearl pulsed softly in Kai's palm.
Ren reached out, taking Kai's hands into his. "Are you ready?"
Kai inhaled. "I think so."
Together, they held the pearl between them.
A warm light spread from it—gentle but overwhelmingly intimate. It was nothing like the sharp dreams or terrifying visions they had earlier. This light felt like a memory returning home.
The pearl glowed brighter—then dissolved.
Like mist.
Like dissolving moonlight.
And the room vanished.
Kai gasped as a wave of cold wind hit him—no, not wind.
A memory.