Mitsuki turned with a sly smirk.

"You ready to see what the future holds for you?"

She tilted her head, then took a slow step back.

Konnie squinted. "You’re asking if I'm ready?"

"Yep," Mitsuki said casually. "Once you know your fate, there’s no turning back. Whether it’s the best possible ending or... the worst kind of death."

Konnie hesitated, her feet shifting back. She’d come this far—there was no point in backing out now. This wasn’t just for her.

This was for Jade.

"I... Yes. I'm ready."

Grinning, Mitsuki opened the door.

Beyond it was nothing. Just a pitch-black abyss.

Konnie stepped forward slowly, trying to peer into the darkness. She leaned in, looking high and low, squinting.

“Hey, uhh… Enoki, is thi—”

Before she could finish, Mitsuki shoved her.

Konnie yelped as she fell, her scream short-lived.

She hit nothing. She was standing, somehow, inside the abyss. She spun around—

The door was gone.

A sharp click echoed.

In the distance, a single spotlight flickered on, illuminating a small table.

A hooded figure sat silently at its center.

Konnie approached, one arm wrapped around the other, anxiety clawing at her throat.

As she neared the figure, she whispered, barely audible:

"...Enoki?"

No answer.

The figure calmly extended its hands toward her.

Konnie stood frozen. She turned, looked behind—

Nothing.

No doors.

No exit.

No light but the one overhead.

After a moment of paralyzed silence, she sat across from the figure.

Her fingers met its hands.

In an instant, its grip tightened around her wrists.

The darkness cracked. The world around her fractured like glass, glowing shards spinning into view.

Sounds—fragments of voices, laughter, rage, sorrow—poured into her mind like a flood.

Memories? Dreams? Futures?

It was too much. Too loud. Too fast.

"No—No no no no—!"

She pulled against the grip, trying to free herself.

Laughter. Screaming. Crying. All of it collided into one overwhelming noise.

“L-LET GO!”

With a surge of fear and strength, she broke free, tumbling backward.

She opened her eyes.

A ruin stretched out before her—a crumbled cathedral? A castle? Vines and moss overtook the stone, shafts of light cutting through broken windows.

At the far end of the grand hall stood a mound of dirt.

A staff was planted into it.

Wrapped around it: a familiar scarf.

Konnie stepped forward slowly, dread seizing her chest.

“…This is… Jade’s staff. Her scarf. This…”

She looked around.

“This isn’t my fate.”

Everything beyond the ruin’s walls was pure white, blinding and empty.

Then—

A shadow appeared behind her.

She turned quickly, but the light was too harsh. She couldn’t make out the figure.

“Wait—!”

It turned and walked away.

Konnie chased after it.

But the floor beneath her vanished.

She fell.

Faster and faster—

Yet… she wasn’t scared.

It felt familiar, like falling into a dream.

A new shape emerged in the endless white:

A colossal being, neither beast nor god. Its violet eyes stared down at her.

Its tail stretched endlessly, like a road vanishing into infinity.

Her breath caught. Her thoughts stilled.

Her eyes faded—

The same vibrant violet overtook them.

The being smiled.

And suddenly—

Konnie gasped.

She flailed, reaching for something—anything—as if drowning in light.

She fell, fast, too fast—

SLAM.

The door burst open and Konnie shot out, crashing into the dirt, sliding right to Mitsuki’s feet.

Mitsuki blinked, still roasting a mushroom on a stick.

“...Welcome back?”

She gave a nervous smile.

"You okay there?"

Konnie gasped for air, then scrambled to her feet, bolting back toward the door—

Only to find it slammed shut.

“HEY! LET ME BACK IN!”

She banged on the door with both fists, throwing herself against it.

Mitsuki dropped her half-eaten mushroom, standing with both hands raised in caution.

“Whoa, whoa—this here’s a one-time thing! Once ya leave, I can’t put you back in!”

Konnie stopped. Slowly turned.

Her hair cast shadows across her face.

Her eye, barely visible beneath it, glowed with a deep violet light.

Mitsuki took a step back.

Her hand trembled.

“Y-ya okay there…?” she asked with a weak laugh.

Then, even more softly:

“…Mind tellin’ me what you saw?”

Konnie turns to the door, her forehead resting against the wood as her eyes sink to the ground.

“Jade… I saw… Jade,” she says softly. Her fists tighten at her sides. “I didn’t see myself—I saw Jade.”

Mitsuki blinks, her smirk fading into confusion.

“You saw Jade? Now hold on… that can’t be right. You’re s’posed to see yourself. Ain’t no one ever seen someone else.”

Konnie looks back at her, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t just Jade. Near the end, I felt like I was falling—and there was this massive figure. It had a tail, and its eyes were glowing—violet. Like…”

She stops mid-sentence. A chill runs down her spine. The sensation is eerily familiar—like she’s lived it before.

She spins toward Mitsuki.

Mitsuki’s face goes pale. Her eyes widen. Hands tremble just slightly. Her lips part, as if the words are stuck.

“You…” she whispers, voice shaky. “You ain’t got a fate.”

Konnie stares, blood running cold.

“Wh-What does that mean?”

Mitsuki steps closer, slow and careful—like Konnie might break or bolt.

“Do you… remember anything? Before ya ended up here?”

Konnie’s breath hitches. Mitsuki’s tone—so cautious—makes her hesitate. She looks away, digging through her thoughts. Anything, just a scrap.

“I… I remember darkness. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Nothing. Just… waking up under that tree.”

Mitsuki goes quiet, watching her close. Then under her breath, almost like a prayer,

“This might actually work…”

She chuckles and closes her eyes.

“Konnie, in all my years, I've never met anybody without a fate. Not once.” Her smile is softer now—not mischievous, but near reverent. “Don’t rightly know what it means for the others. But you? You might just be the key. The one who can shake off fate for good.”

Konnie’s expression falters.

“With dark magic…” she mutters. Her hand trembles as she grips her arm. “I don’t think I can do it again.”

“That’s the best part,” Mitsuki says, spinning with a little clap. “You ain’t gotta. Not ‘less you got no other choice. Right now? You can help folks just by bein’ who you are.”

She turns back to Konnie with a grin.

“You can save Jade. All you need to do is confront Black Rose yourse—”

Konnie’s knees suddenly buckle. Her vision blurs. A sharp sting blooms behind her back. Her eyes roll back.

She collapses with a thud.

“…Konnie?”

Jade’s ears twitch as she’s brought back to reality. Her gaze drifts to the window, then down to her hands. “Konnie…” she whispers.

Her fingers curl slightly, brushing against the hem of her sleeve—but otherwise, she doesn’t move.

Across the room, Shuzuka watches her for a moment. Then, silently, he lowers his eyes to the table and presses his lips together—tight, unreadable.

He rises, collecting the two empty cups. At the pantry, he begins checking jars one by one. No tea bags. A quiet breath escapes him—more a sigh than frustration.

His eyes shift to the window. Outside, the wind stirs the roses, their petals swaying like dancers.

He opens the window. Without hesitation, he reaches out and gathers a handful of petals.

Back at the counter, he conjures a small bag and drops the petals inside. As the water steeps, the liquid begins to bloom into a soft red.

Shuzuka’s lower eyelid twitches.

He rubs his fingers together—slowly, absentmindedly—until a faint static flickers between them, his magic thinning like smoke. His breath hitches. He shuts his eyes.

For a moment, the room stills.

He inhales, steady but slow—like a man pulling himself back from a place too familiar.

When his eyes open again, the pale red has deepened—sharpened—vibrant once more.

He sets the teacups down with care, as if they might break under the weight of his thoughts.

Shuzuka carefully stepped out of the kitchen, holding two cups of tea. He moved slowly, mindful not to spill, and approached Jade, who sat lost in thought.

“Here,” he said, holding out the rose-scented tea.

Jade blinked, snapping back to reality. Her eyes flicked between Shuzuka and the teacup.

“Oh—th-thanks, hah...” she let out an awkward chuckle, forcing a smile as she took the cup and sipped.

Shuzuka conjured a chair with a flick of his hand and sat across from her.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

Jade’s smile faltered. “What?”

“I know you’re worried about her. Don’t be. She’ll be fine.”

“It’s not that, just…” She sighed audibly. “Do you know what your fate holds?”

Shuzuka held his teacup by the rim, pausing for a moment. “No. I don’t have one.”

Jade blinked, then laughed softly. “Everyone has one, silly. Without one… what’s your purpose?”

Her smile faded quickly as her gaze dropped to her tea.

Shuzuka watched her carefully—her ears lowered, her posture quiet. He looked down at his cup and thought for a moment before speaking again.

“To be free,” he said.

Jade slowly looked up at him, surprised. Her lips curled into a small, genuine smile. “Never thought of it like that” after a beat, she let out a soft chuckle.

“…Guess you’re not so bad after all,” she whispered, almost to herself.

Shuzuka’s eyes shifted slightly. He snickered under his breath and took a sip of his tea.

Jade’s ears twitched. She turned to look at him—Shuzuka was now staring toward the stranger with a slight grin. She smiled too, her expression softening.

“You know… Akane’s not gonna like that you picked the rose petals from the garden.”

Shuzuka spat out his tea.

“What—!” He stared at her, eyes wide, mouth agape in horror.

Jade laughed, nearly spilling her tea. “Hahaha—ha… But thanks. I needed this.” She smiled and looked down into her cup.

“I know,” Shuzuka murmured.

He glancing over his shoulder toward the stranger lying unconscious. Something was growing beneath the chair. Narrowing his eyes, he raised a finger to Jade—quiet.

Shuzuka lowered himself to the ground, steady on all fours like a wolf stalking its prey. Every movement was deliberate. Every breath controlled. Across from him, Jade watched with wide eyes, gripping her staff tightly. She barely dared to breathe, the tension so thick it pressed on her chest.

As he crept closer, Shuzuka paused. His eyes darted, scanning for signs. Nothing—except for the slow, rhythmic movement of thorned vines, crawling up the stranger’s arm.

Then, a low voice broke the silence. Flat. Unfeeling.

“Rose isn’t gonna like this.”

Shuzuka froze. The world seemed to mute around him, as if the two of them had slipped into a separate, still reality.

“I know,” he answered, eyes locked onto the stranger, watching for even the slightest twitch.

The stranger let out a slow, humorless chuckle. It grew into laughter.

“Still trying to play hero, are we? Still chasing that fantasy—changing fate? You’ve been running in circles ever since that day. Always so desperate to escape what you are.”

His grin widened.

“But here’s the secret: fate doesn’t care. We always win, Shuzuka. Whether you fight it or follow it... in the end, you're just a piece on the board.”

Shuzuka stayed silent. It felt like a one-sided battle… as if he were the one held captive.

The stranger’s voice dropped again, more cutting now.

“What… she doesn’t know?”

Shuzuka’s gaze flicked to Jade, just for a moment.

“She has no idea who you are, does she? She doesn’t know you’re one of us.”

Jade blinked.

“What…?”

The stranger sneered.

“You were always a loose cannon. Never followed the plan.”

He turned to Jade with a cruel smile.

“You’re no different. I should’ve known from the way you tremble—Valentine blood runs soft.”

Her eyes widened. Her ears twitched, lowering slightly. She clutched her staff tighter, trembling.

“H-how do you know my name—?”

The stranger raised his arm. Vines curled up over his shoulder, wrapping around his body, glowing faintly red. His silhouette pulsed in the dim light.

Her heart raced. A shiver ran through her—something ancient, something familiar.  

She stumbled back.  

The staff fell from her hands.  

She dropped to her knees.  

Tears streamed freely. “N-no…”

“You’ve grown,” the stranger said softly, “since the day you turned your back on him.”

“I-I didn’t abandon—”

Jade's voice cracked under the weight of panic. Her body trembled as if the cold had sunk beneath her skin.

“I… I tried to help… I didn’t mean—”

Her words fell apart. She could no longer speak. Just breathe—sharp, shallow gasps.

Shuzuka’s eyes flashed to her. For a second, he saw someone breaking. Then his jaw set, tight. Without warning, he lunged. The chair smashed beneath the force as he tackled the stranger, pinning him down, a conjured spear pressed against his throat.

“That’s enough, Itona.”

The stranger didn’t struggle. Instead, he smiled—slow, assured, vines creeping over his body, binding everything but his neck and head.

“What are you gonna do? Kill me?”

His voice was mocking. Calm.

“You know my time isn’t up.”

“You sound confident,” Shuzuka’s voice was low, trembling with controlled rage. “But I only need to push this an inch.” 

Itona grinned. Taunting. He didn’t flinch. He wanted him to do it.

Itona's smirk deepened, eyes glinting. “DO IT. Show her what you really are.”

That broke something. The spear shattered beneath the weight of his rage. Shuzuka struck a punch. Then another. His fists landed heavy and raw. Each strike landed with a brutal grunt. Itona’s laughter echoed, growing fainter with each hit.

With a final shout, Shuzuka drove his fist down—

Vines snapped shut, swallowing Itona whole. The last punch smashed through the empty vines, cracking into the wooden floor beneath.

Still breathing hard, Shuzuka sat in the silence, blood dripping from his knuckles.

He didn’t feel like he’d won. Not even close.

All he could feel... was that another piece had been removed. And this time, he wasn’t sure whose.