The battlefield was chaos, but all Aiko could feel was him—the warmth of Ryou’s presence at her back, the brush of his arm as they moved in tandem, an unspoken rhythm between them.

“Stay with me,” Ryou murmured, his voice barely audible over the roar of flames and steel.

It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t a plea. It was something raw, something she hadn’t had the time to name.

Aiko turned, her heart hammering against her ribs. For just a moment, the battle faded. His gaze was dark, intense, filled with something that sent a shiver through her. Not fear. No hesitation, but a promise.

She almost reached for him. Almost.

Then, a cold voice shattered the moment.

"You were meant to stand beside me. Not against me."

Aiko barely had time to react before she was ripped away from Ryou, her foxfire clashing with the masked warrior’s shadows. Their battle pulled her deeper into the ruins, away from the others—away from him.

In that moment, as the masked warrior’s face was revealed, Aiko realized that fate had just played its cruelest hand.

Her breath caught. The warrior before her was no stranger.

“T-Takeshi?” she gasped.

Golden eyes, so much like hers, stared back at her. Aiko's lost brother, thought to be dead, now stood before her as her enemy.

“I tried to protect you,” he whispered, anguish twisting his features. “But I was too weak.”

Memories crashed into Aiko’s mind. Flashes of childhood, a brother’s laughter, a family torn apart by war. Takeshi had been taken by the Onibane, forged into their weapon. And now, he stood against her, bound by their dark will.

“You don’t have to fight me,” Aiko pleaded.

“I do,” Takeshi said, raising his blade. “Because if I don’t, she will destroy us both.”

Behind him, Lady Hisako chanted an incantation, dark power coalescing around her. The ground split apart, revealing an ancient seal beneath the ruins. A seal meant to bind the Kyūbi’s power—or unleash it.

“We end this now,” Hisako declared, the magic surging toward Aiko.