The cold air hung heavy between them, thick with unspoken tension. Aiko kept her stance firm, her heart pounding against her ribs as the silver-haired woman took another step forward. The Watchers claimed to be the keepers of balance, but something about them made the fire in Aiko’s blood coil in warning.

“What do you want from me?” Aiko’s voice was steady, though her fingers twitched at her sides, aching to summon the foxfire she barely understood.

The woman’s storm-colored eyes held no malice, but neither did they offer comfort. “You carry power that was never meant to awaken in this world,” she said. “The Ninth Tail has been sealed for centuries. You have shattered that seal. And now, the consequences will come.”

Ryou shifted beside Aiko, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “She didn’t ask for this power.”

“And yet, she wields it.”

Aiko felt the weight of their gazes pressing against her, demanding something she wasn’t sure she could give. Control? Understanding? A willingness to surrender? She clenched her fists. “If you think I’ll just hand myself over, you’re mistaken.”

The woman’s lips curled slightly, almost like she had expected the defiance. “It is not a choice, child. The balance of this world has been fractured. Forces older than you can comprehend will move now, drawn to your unleashed power. If you cannot control it, you will become a danger to everything you love.”

Aiko’s breath hitched. Everything she loved.

A hand brushed against hers, warm and grounding. Ryou. He didn’t speak, but the weight of his presence was enough. He wasn’t leaving her to face this alone.

Mei, who had been standing just behind them, scoffed. “And let me guess. You Watchers are the only ones who can help her?”

The woman regarded Mei coolly. “We are the only ones who have kept beings like her from unraveling existence itself.”

Aiko’s heart pounded. Was that what they saw her as? Not a person, not a protector—but a threat?

She turned to Ryou, looking for something, anything, in his expression that might steady her. He met her gaze, and for the first time, she saw past the calm mask he always wore. Concern. Fear—not of her, but for her.

“I won’t let them take you,” Ryou said, voice barely above a whisper, meant only for her ears. “Not like this.”

Aiko swallowed hard. “Ryou—”

“You don’t have to say it.” His fingers curled briefly around hers before he pulled away. “Just don’t let them make you forget who you are.”

Her chest ached at the loss of his warmth, but there was no time to dwell on it. The Watchers weren’t here to negotiate. They were here to decide what to do with her.

The wind howled through the mountains, and Aiko squared her shoulders, fire stirring just beneath her skin. If the Watchers thought she would submit, they didn’t understand the fire that burned within her.

She was the last of the Kyūbi. She would not break.