The chains arrived before Kato had finished processing that the masked remnant had moved.
Not like projectiles — like extensions, like something that belonged to the space between the two of them and was simply claiming it. Kato moved to the right with the speed of someone who has been doing this for decades, and the chains passed where his left shoulder had been with a whistle that was not the sound of metal but of something denser cutting through the air.
Fast, registered Kato. Too fast for that body.
He responded with the reddish mana in his right fist — not everything he had, just enough to measure — and the strike that landed on the masked remnant's torso made the creature step back half a pace.
Solid too.
The chains came back from the left side this time. Kato dodged by moving forward, closing the distance, and responded with his elbow to the creature's shoulder. The masked remnant absorbed the impact by turning with it — not with the clumsiness of something receiving a blow but with the fluidity of something that has decided it can afford to absorb it because it has enough to give in return.
The next burst of chains came from three simultaneous angles.
Kato jumped back.
From the side of the street, the remnant that had spoken first was watching with its arms crossed and something in its posture that was between assessment and anticipated satisfaction.
"This one," said the arms-crossed remnant, in that tone thinking remnants had when they wanted something to land with weight, "is one of the strongest remnants there is. There aren't many hunters who can match his brute force. And his speed is even harder to anticipate."
Kato dodged two more chains without stopping looking at the masked remnant.
"Are you telling me this to frighten me?" he said.
"I'm telling you this so you know what you're facing."
"I appreciate the consideration," said Kato. "But if he's as strong as you say, I'm not going to be far behind either."
He moved away from the masked remnant — two steps, three — gaining the distance he needed for what was coming next.
The wind changed.
Not in direction — in nature. It became heavier, more present, with that specific quality of something responding to something beyond meteorology. Kato opened his eyes after a second of concentration that did not look like concentration because it lacked the usual gestures of concentration — he simply closed them and opened them, and between those two moments something changed in the space around him.
Combat mode: the ability that activates a state where speed and force are multiplied using mana as pure fuel. No special elements, no striking visual effects — just the body taken beyond what it should be able to do while the mana lasts as fuel. It can be used alone, without draining anyone. The limit is simple: when the mana runs out, the state ceases. But while it lasts, the result is another thing entirely.
"Zanshō." The masked remnant turned — the distant remnant had called out to it. Zanshō charged again.
The chains came from four angles.
Kato did not dodge backwards.
He advanced.
He moved between the chains with a speed that did not correspond to the Kato who had been dodging thirty seconds ago — faster, with the kind of movements that have no advance signal because the body is already in the next position before the decision has finished forming. The chains passed behind, to the sides, through where he had been and was no longer, and Kato reached the remnant's body with the mana fully active in his right fist.
The strike to the torso sounded different from the previous one.
Zanshō stepped back two paces. Not half a step — two.
The other remnant, from the side, stopped having its arms crossed.
"What—"
"You said there aren't many hunters who can match him," said Kato, repositioning with that usual calm that now had a visible speed behind it that had not been perceptible before. "You mentioned force and speed." He paused. "Both of those are my specialities too."
Zanshō looked at him from behind the mask.
The chains tensed again.
What followed was different from what it had been before combat mode — not in structure but in scale, in the way the two of them moved in the Machida street with the parked cars as obstacles and the street lamps projecting shadows that multiplied with every change of position.
Zanshō was strong. There was no doubt about that — every time a chain connected with something that was not Kato's body it left a mark that ordinary chains did not leave, and the speed with which they repositioned and arrived from different angles had a coordination that went beyond instinct.
But Kato's combat mode changed the equation in a way that the speaking remnant had clearly not calculated.
Kato struck Zanshō's right flank with his elbow — the remnant absorbed the impact, but took longer to recover than before. It responded with the chains from its left arm — Kato deflected them with his right forearm and counterattacked with his left fist to the shoulder.
Zanshō stepped back another pace.
"What remarkable strength," said Kato, without stopping moving. "I'd love to continue with this." He concentrated the mana in his right fist with the precision of someone who has been calculating the exact moment since the beginning. "But I have to finish this."
The other remnant, from the side, had gone from satisfied assessment to something that more resembled the discomfort of someone who has presented something as a demonstration of strength and is watching the demonstration not going as expected.
It arrived from the darkness at the far end of the street, in that way it had of appearing — without sound, without advance signal, simply present where it had not been a moment before.
"Akuryō, I wasn't expecting you," said the remnant.
"Shizuku," said Akuryō, addressing the remnant watching the fight, in that voice of its that had even less correspondence with the language. "It's time to go. We're expected."
"If the leader ordered it, we'd better do as he says," said Shizuku.
"Zanshō, we're leaving," Shizuku called out.
Zanshō did not move immediately. It looked at Kato with those eyes partially visible behind the mask — with the attention of something that was in the middle of something and has not finished.
"Let us finish," said Kato.
"Perhaps it would be better to let them finish the fight, for the experiment to be a success," said Shizuku.
"It's no longer necessary," said Akuryō. "Mukuro already fought a great hunter on his mission. We have enough information."
"What a shame," said Shizuku. "Just when Zanshō was about to use its full strength."
It turned towards Zanshō.
"It's over," it said. "We're leaving."
Zanshō looked at both of them. Then at Kato. Then it turned around.
Kato lowered his fist.
"What a shame they have you as a slave," he said, looking at Zanshō with something that was not mockery but something closer to the genuine recognition of someone who has just fought against something that deserved more. "I would have liked to continue."
Three thinking remnants, he thought, looking at all three without it being apparent that he was assessing them. All three in the same place. Fighting all three of them in this state doesn't end well — not because I can't handle one of them, but because three at that level simultaneously would destroy the entire street before I got halfway.
Shizuku looked at him.
"Next time it won't end like this," it said, in that tone that dropped in register when it spoke of something it considered a fact rather than a threat. "We'll use all our power to kill every hunter."
"Is that your goal?" said Kato.
"It's not a simple goal," said Shizuku. "It's a fact that will occur." It paused, and in its expression there was something that was not only a threat but something closer to a conviction. "We are remnants. Beings who lost the life we had — taken, interrupted, ended before its time by a world that did not ask whether we wanted to leave. And now we exist in this form. This existence that nobody chose but that is the only one left to us." The white pupil-less eyes found Kato's. "And you, the hunters, are the ones who come to take even that from us. To tell us when we can exist and when we cannot. To decide that our second chance is not worth what the first chance of any human is worth." It paused. "A world without hunters is a world where remnants can exist without anyone coming to end the only thing we had left. It's not cruelty. It's justice."
The silence that followed lasted as long as it took Kato to process that.
"I've heard that before," he said at last, in a tone that was not that of someone dismissing it but of someone who has genuinely thought about it. "And I lived through it." He paused. "And I can guarantee it doesn't end well for the ones who try."
Shizuku looked at him.
"That's what you say now," it said. "Simple hunter."
Akuryō extended his hand.
The darkness responded — not the darkness of the environment but something specific, denser, which took shape in the space in front of him in a way that had no physical explanation but whose result was completely clear: a portal, circular, the kind of black that reflects nothing.
The three remnants entered.
The portal closed.
The Machida side street fell silent.
Kato lowered his arms. He looked at the empty space where the three had been. Then at the car with the leak. Then at the asphalt.
"If I could create portals," he said aloud, to nobody, "I would have taken myself home half an hour ago."
He took out his phone.
He called a breakdown service.
While he waited leaning against the broken-down car, on the Machida street at night, he thought about what Shizuku had said with that conviction that was not the conviction of something repeating a message but of something that believed it.
A world without hunters.
They're not just intelligent remnants that speak, he thought. They're an organisation. With an ideology. With a leadership.
At least he now knew what they were after.
The following day, the Tokyo headquarters compound looked the same as always — the corridors, the garden, the morning light coming through the windows with the specific normality of a place that remains what it is regardless of what happens outside.
Kagami Ryo and Yūta Amane arrived through the main entrance with their bags over their shoulders and the shared look of people who have been away long enough for coming back to carry a particular weight.
"Right then, Amane, now that it's over, you're free," said Kagami.
"Yes!" said Yūta.
"Kagami, I wanted to thank you for the fight and everything."
"Amane... don't worry about it, you're improving quite a lot already. Better go and see your companions."
"The others! That's right! Goodbye, Kagami."
"Right." Kagami raised his hand in farewell.
Better go and find Kato, thought Kagami.
The two of them went their separate ways.
The corridor leading to the first-year students' rooms had the quiet of the morning — not the silence of an empty place but of a place where people are doing things in their own spaces without needing to be in the corridor.
Yūta was walking through it with his bag still over his shoulder when a figure appeared at the far end.
Ishida Taro walked with his hands in his pockets and his usual expression — neutral, direct, the kind that does not change much regardless of the situation.
They stopped in the middle of the corridor.
"How was everything here while I was away?" said Yūta.
Ishida looked at him.
"Did you go somewhere?" he said.
Yūta blinked.
"I was on a mission," he said. "Several days. With Kagami."
"Ah," said Ishida. "That explains why it was quieter around here."
Yūta processed that for a second.
"Does that mean you missed me?"
"It means it was quieter," said Ishida, and kept walking.
Yūta watched him go.
"Kato also left," said Ishida, without turning round. "While you were away."
"I think Kagami went to find him — he wanted to tell him about the mission," said Yūta.
"Then maybe he's already back."
"Later, if you want, I'll tell you what happened on the mission." Ishida turned the corner and disappeared, without Amane noticing.
"It was incredible, I even improved my abiliti... He's gone already."
Yūta stood in the corridor for a moment.
"Well, never mind, I've got things to do."
Then he smiled — not the smile for difficult situations but the genuine one, the usual one — and kept walking.
Kagami was leaning against the wall beside the door to Kato's classroom with the cigarette between his fingers and the expression of someone who has been waiting a while and does not mind, but is not going to deny it either.
Kato Ginjiro appeared along the corridor with his hands in his pockets and his usual smile.
Kagami looked at his watch.
"Late," he said. "As always."
"I was late because something strange happened to me yesterday," said Kato, arriving at the door.
"You were up watching a series until four in the morning?" said Kagami. "That's not strange, that's every day."
Kato laughed.
Then the smile changed — it did not disappear completely, but lost its light component and something more serious remained underneath.
"Yesterday some remnants attacked me on the way back to Tokyo," he said.
Kagami stubbed out the cigarette.
"Were they strong?"
"I only fought one," said Kato. "The other seemed weaker, it only spoke. Then a third appeared and all three of them left."
"Names?"
Kato opened the classroom door and went in. Kagami followed.
"I don't remember them — I was focused on the fight," said Kato, sitting on the edge of the table with his usual informality. "What I do remember is what they said. They want to kill all hunters. To create a world without us where remnants can do as they please."
Kagami looked at him.
"That brings back bad memories," he said.
"For me too," said Kato.
The silence that followed was the kind shared by two people who have a reference in common that does not need explaining.
"How did it go with Sota and Amane?" said Kato.
Kagami told him — Misato, the green remnant, the gymnasium, the fight, those who died, the way it ended. He told it with his usual brevity, without embellishment, in the order it had happened.
"The remnants were called Mukuro and Akuryō," he said at last.
Kato looked at him.
"One of those names sounds familiar," he said.
Kato raised his right hand with his index finger extended — the gesture of someone remembering.
"Akuryō," he said. "That was the one who appeared at the end and took the others away."
The two looked at each other.
"The same one who appeared with the ones that attacked me," said Kagami, slowly.
"Yes," said Kato.
Kagami looked at the floor for a moment.
"This is more than intelligent remnants that speak," he said. "It's an organisation. With a structure. With someone giving orders." He paused. "And with an ideology they're prepared to defend."
"What they said in Misato fits too," Kagami continued. "Mukuro was receiving orders. Akuryō arrived to pull him out once the objective had been completed. They don't act alone."
"Better tell Kana everything," said Kagami. "She needs to know this."
Kato nodded.
"I'm leaving the city for a while," said Kagami.
Kato looked at him.
"Why?"
"I've done what I needed to do," said Kagami. "I helped Amane with his powers. The work here is finished."
"Speaking of Amane," said Kato.
Kagami exhaled.
"He no longer needs thirty seconds to use the mana," he said, in the tone of someone giving a report, even though what he was giving was more than that. "He brings it out again and again during a fight. His movements are more precise. His sensitivity to the mana seems greater than most at this level." He paused. "I hate to admit it, but it seems you were right about the boy."
Kato smiled.
"Obviously," he said. "I'm a genius."
"Indeed," said Kagami, in the tone he used when he agreed with something but preferred not to show it too much.
He stood.
"Good luck with Kana," he said, walking towards the door.
"Thank you," said Kato. "Although luck doesn't do much good with her."
Kagami reached the door.
"Kagami," said Kato.
He stopped without turning.
"Thank you," said Kato. "For Amane. And for everything else."
Kagami did not respond immediately.
"The boxes of cigarettes," he said at last.
"I didn't forget," said Kato, tossing him a box of cigarettes.
"Hope to see you again soon."
Kagami caught it, then left.
"I don't."
Kagami walked out.
Kato was left alone in the classroom with the morning outside and the conversation still in the air.
An organisation, he thought. With ideology. With structure. With the same Akuryō appearing in Misato and in Machida.
He stood. He straightened his jacket. He looked at the door.
It appeared the hardest work was still his.
Going to talk to Kana.
Kato Ginjiro arrived at the upper floor corridor with his hands in his pockets and the expression of someone who would have preferred to be anywhere else, which was probably true.
In front of the door to Kana's room stood Tatsu, in his usual composed posture.
"Kato! What a surprise!" he said, seeing him approach.
"Tatsu," replied Kato, raising a hand in greeting.
Tatsu looked at him with mild curiosity.
"I heard you were in Machida. How was the stay?"
Kato stopped in front of the door.
"That's exactly what I wanted to speak with Kana about," he said.
Tatsu's expression shifted slightly. Not much, but enough.
"She's inside."
"Perfect."
Tatsu opened the door and stepped aside to let him through.
Kato went in.
When the door closed behind him, Tatsu stood looking at the wood for a moment.
It was the first time he could remember Kato coming of his own accord to speak with Kana because he had something to tell her. Normally it was Kana who sent for him. Normally it was Kato who avoided those conversations as much as he could.
That, thought Tatsu, was not a good sign.
On the other side of the door, Kana looked up from the documents on her desk.
"What a surprise to see you here, Kato."
Kato smiled his usual smile, though this time it did not quite reach his eyes.
"I love seeing you too."
Kana set the document on the table.
"That sounded terrible even coming from you."
"I have information for you," said Kato.
Kana's smile disappeared just enough.
"About what?"
Kato looked around the room.
"Before that, is Yuna here?"
"I sent her to get something. She's not here right now."
Kato let out a brief sigh.
"What a shame. She might have found it interesting."
Kana kept looking at him. The temperature of the room seemed to drop slightly, not because anything had actually changed, but because the way Kana looked had that capacity.
"What is it about, Kato?"
Kato stopped smiling.
Then he told her.
Machida. Kasumi. The remnant with the mask and chains. Shizuku. Akuryō. The portal. The words about a world without hunters.
Then he told her about Misato.
Mukuro. The gymnasium. Kagami. Yūta. The children turned into remnants. Akuryō appearing again to withdraw his own.
Kana did not interrupt.
That was the first thing that told Kato she was taking it with exactly the seriousness it deserved.
When he finished, the room fell silent.
Kana rested her fingers on the table.
"The remnant called Akuryō appeared in both places?" she said.
"Yes."
"Mukuro was receiving orders? Shizuku too?"
"It appears so."
"And all of them spoke of a structure. A leader. An objective."
Kato nodded.
Kana closed her eyes for a second.
When she opened them, something was tighter in her expression. Not fear. Kana was not someone who showed fear easily. But calculation. And concern.
"What do you think?" she asked.
Kato put his hands in his pockets and looked to the side.
For a moment he did not answer.
He thought about the remnants Kato had named, Zanshō and its chains, Shizuku talking about justice, Akuryō opening a portal as though the space belonged to him, and Mukuro wanting to know what happened when a hunter died.
Then he looked at Kana again.
"If you're asking me," he said, "we should end this before they get any more organised."
Kana let out a low exhale.
"I knew you were going to say something like that."
"You know me too well."
"I know you well enough." Kana paused. "And you? How are you with what they said?"
Kato raised an eyebrow.
"Is that concern?"
"It's a question."
"I'm fine," said Kato.
Kana looked at him as though that answer had not passed any credibility filter.
"Kato."
He held her gaze for one more second. Then he smiled, but this time the smile was smaller.
"Don't worry about that. I'm fine."
Kana did not press. Not because she entirely believed him, but because she understood she was not going to get more in that moment.
She stood from her chair.
"I'm going to contact not only the Tokyo hunters but the other bases too," she said. "Everyone must be on alert. I want reports of any remnant that speaks, reasons, or shows anomalous abilities. Nobody investigates alone. Nobody underestimates anything."
"Sounds right to me," said Kato.
Kana walked to the window. From there she could see part of the headquarters compound, the low buildings, the garden, the students moving without yet knowing what had just changed.
"If this is an organisation," said Kana, "then Misato and Machida were not isolated incidents."
Kato did not respond.
It did not need to be said.
Kana turned her head slightly.
"Thank you for coming to tell me."
Kato smiled.
"Don't get used to it."
Kana looked at him.
"I wasn't planning to."
For the first time in the entire conversation, the silence that followed had nothing of humour in it.
Kato turned towards the door.
Before he left, Kana spoke again.
"Kato."
He stopped.
"If they appear again," she said, "don't improvise."
Kato looked back over his shoulder.
"Improvising is my speciality."
"That's why I'm saying it."
Kato did not respond. He simply raised a hand in farewell and went out.
The door closed.
Kana was left alone in the room for a few seconds. Then she took the phone from the table.
She dialled a number.
She waited.
When they answered, her voice came out steady.
"Activate the hunters' alert protocol. I want every available hunter informed before midnight."
A pause.
Kana looked out of the window.
The afternoon was falling over the headquarters with a tranquillity that, for the first time in a long time, felt false.
"And one more thing," she said. "Find everything we have on thinking remnants."
Something was said on the other end.
Kana did not look away from the garden.
"Yes," she said. "Everything."
The line was silent for a few seconds.
Then Kana added:
"It's going to happen again."
Author's Note
And with this, the first season of The Eternal Remnants comes to an end.
First of all, I want to thank everyone who made it this far. Thank you for reading Yūta's story, for following him from Nagoya to Misato, for getting to know the hunters, the remnants, and this world that is only just beginning to show everything it hides.
This first part was only the beginning. Yūta still has much to learn, many answers to find, and many things to face. The remnants are no longer simple creatures that appear without reason. They now have names, objectives, and a will of their own.
The second season will begin in 14 days.
Thank you truly for reading.
See you soon.