Kyo made his way toward the city's southern artery, skirting the edge of an abandoned construction zone where a flood-control project lay bare, unfinished. Rusted scaffolding loomed over like the skeleton of a barebones cathedral.
He stepped over fractured tiles and toppled orange cones. Drone paths barely covered this zone. Gaps in surveillance made it perfect for him. Perfect for the Wanderer.
The Wanderer.
He was amused the first time he heard it. On the news. It wasn't his idea, but it had fit him too well to shake off.
He broke through the alleyways and emerged into the heart of the beast. The city was louder, more connected—not in sounds, but in memory.
Neon lights rippled in still puddles across the asphalt. The smell of copper wiring and burned grease filled the air. Somewhere, an AUROR@ chorus was on loop—Lisa's voice, digitally altered:
We burn so bright / the dark forgets its real…
He turned down a narrower, quieter road. A back lane with a co-op pharmacy and a laundromat with half of its signage lights blown out. He looked up—sure enough, there it was. The company dorms.
Lisa had sent him a selfie near this place. Her first week shuttling back and forth from Osaka to Seoul for her trainee sessions. Her first day as a trainee.
The photo was blurry, taken in a mirror. Stage make-up still partly on. She looked exhausted, but thrilled, flashing a peace sign. Her message had read:
"Guess who didn't fall of the stage today."
He stared at that photo for hours. Zoomed in and out. Memorized the smudge on her cheeks. The crooked eyeliner that was probably self-applied.
She looked like someone who had fallen from the sky and landed on her feet.
That was before her eighteenth birthday.
Before everything changed.
Before he vanished from her life.
He never replied to her message. Kyo wished he could look at that photo again. He didn't carry a phone anymore.
He'd carried a few burner phones early on, but eventually gave them up—too risky, too traceable. That photo now existed only in his memory, burned there by years of quiet longing.
His boots scraped the edge of the gutter. For a second there, the silence stretched into something like her laugh—that tiny, lopsided one she made when she was about to say something dumb, but honest.
Just like that, the memory shifted.
Older. Brighter.
Osaka, Japan. 2007.
A schoolyard at midday. Chalk dust in the wind.
Ten-year-old Lisa stood beneath a cherry tree. Her first day as a transfer student. Her badge crooked on her chest. Her uniform half-a-size too big. She blinked through oversized bangs and looked like she was bracing for an attack that never came.
He watched her from the perimeter.
She navigated the tables and hesitated to sit with the other kids: noisy, boisterous, chaotic. She finally decided to sit by herself.
He sat beside her and said nothing. Lisa said nothing back.
They finished lunch without a word.
The next day, she sat beside him again.
That was a lifetime ago. The cherry blossoms were long gone.
Seoul, South Korea. 2025.
Kyo exhaled.
He had been daydreaming again.
The air was thicker now. His lungs full of static.
Another billboard. Caught him off guard.
It took up the entire side of a rural bank building. Not just Lisa this time, but AUROR@. A new promo for their upcoming single. Lisa stood center, surrounded by her four co-members. Her expression was familiar to Kyo.
Not the smile nor the make-up.
The tilt of the head.
The exact same tilt she used to give him when he said something idiotic—and she didn't want to admit it was funny.
The Constant surged, coiling tight in his chest like a muscle about to snap. He grit his teeth.
Not now. Not here.
Vision blurred. The air shimmered, a low hum crackling in his ears. His balance faltered—just slightly.
A gravitational ripple pulsed from him, warping the space around his body with a breath of distortion.
He ground his heel into the concrete. Hard.
Stabilize. Count to three. Ride the breath. Inhale two seconds. Exhale six seconds.
The vibration receded. No visible pulse. No alert.
Too close.
He didn't look up again.
He turned the nearest alley and disappeared into shadow.