Zane hadn't blinked in thirty-one seconds. The hotpot bubbled in front of him, steam rising in the air.

“You spacing out?” Kimiko teased, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

Zane blinked, sluggish. “I’m not. I’m conducting a private… uh… internal spice analysis. Mind-body harmony through capsaicin.”

Kimiko squinted at him. “…What?”

“Exactly,” he said, as if he’d just proven quantum theory.

Kimiko narrowed her eyes. “What does that even mean?”

“I need to—uh, calibrate my chakras. You know… ‘cause of the chili-based turbulence. Gonna reroute the pressure valves through the porcelain gateway.” He stood abruptly. “Restroom. I meant restroom.”

“Bro, what—” Kimiko started, but Zane was already walking off.

Kimiko swirled her drink absentmindedly, her eyes flicking toward the hallway where Zane had disappeared.

Kira’s gaze lingered in the same direction. “Interesting individual.”

Kimiko let out a soft laugh, though it was edged with worry.

Inside the restroom, Zane leaned over the sink, letting cold water run over his fingers. He looked up at his reflection—only to see a tall man, built like a steel beam. He approached quietly and took the sink beside him.

“Zane, right?” the man said casually, not looking up.

Zane stiffened. “Excuse me, do I know you?”

The man smiled faintly. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Zane’s eyes narrowed. “Right, what was your name again?”

“Forgive my bad manners; my name is Kaito,” the man said. “I would need you to come with me.”

Black lightning crackled on Zane’s fingertips.

The man turned, eyes glowing faintly beneath his lashes. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

Zane’s hand shot forward, crackling with power—

—but Kaito struck faster than sight. One clean chop to the side of the neck.

Zane crumpled like a dropped coat.

Kaito caught him, slinging him over his shoulder. “Sorry, nothing personal.”

Meanwhile, back at the table…

A beat of silence passed before she leaned forward. “Can I ask you something? Zane said you will help him with his ‘problem.’ What is it exactly?

Kira rested her hands on the table, folding them calmly. “It’s called Essence. The energy flowing through every living thing. Most people never notice it. Fewer can harness it. And even fewer still can survive the cost of wielding it.”

Kimiko raised an eyebrow. “So what, Zane’s suddenly an anime protagonist now?”

“In a way,” Kira said, amused. “But the rules here are different.”

She raised her finger, and a small orb of golden light flickered to life above it. It hovered steadily at first, then began shifting and reshaping—morphing into floating symbols.

“There are two primary Essence affinities,” Kira began. “Light-based and shadow-based. Most users fall somewhere in between, but true alignment is unique.”

She pulsed her finger, and the light solidified into a tiny glowing figure. Around it, intricate strands of energy formed wings, blades, and shields.

“Light-based users shape the world around them. They create and refine. Their power is rooted in control, order, and manifestation.”

Kimiko watched, mesmerized.

Then Kira shifted the orb. The radiant figure distorted, glitching—until it twisted into a darker shape. Jagged, flickering, unstable. It oozed violet sparks, its edges breaking apart like burnt paper.

“Shadow-based users are chaos and destruction. They corrupt and consume—tear down rather than build up. Their power is raw and unpredictable.”

Kimiko’s eyes widened. “And Zane’s shadow-based?”

“Exactly,” Kira said, her voice softer. “What he’s channeling… it shouldn’t even exist anymore.“

She brought the two figures—light and shadow—close to one another. The moment they touched, the orb pulsed, then stabilized. Balanced. Neither figure overpowered the other. They rotated slowly in harmony, a perfect sphere split by contrast—glowing gold on one side, deep violet on the other.

“They’re opposites, but they’re not enemies. They’re balance. Think of it as yin and yang,” Kira explained. “One cannot exist without the other. “There is no light without darkness and this kind of nonsense.”

Kimiko stared at the balanced orb, her voice quieter now. “So… you’re light-based.”

Kira nodded, letting the orb dissipate in a flicker of dust. “That is right.”

Kimiko sat back, eyes thoughtful but stormy. “You said true alignment is unique, right? So… does that mean only one person can use a certain power?”

“You’re definitely sharp,” Kira said, a hint of approval in her voice. “And you’re right… sort of.” She paused for a second. “Siblings and relatives usually reflect each other’s abilities, but only the main aspect of it. Think of it like a mirror.”

Kimiko tensed. Her fingers twitched around her drink.

She reached for it too quickly, the glass tipping slightly as she took a long sip—some spilling down her chin.

Kira blinked. “You okay?”

“Yeah—pepper hit wrong,” Kimiko mumbled, wiping her face. “Spice got hands.”

She paused. Her voice came slower now.

“Kira… Can I ask you something?”

But before Kira could answer, her head suddenly turned—sharp, alert. Her posture tensed.

Kimiko noticed. “Is there something wrong?”

But Kira’s eyes were fixed on someone.

“…Stay behind me,” she said quietly.

A voice, low and mocking, slithered from behind them.

“What is wrong, sister?”

Kira froze.

Akira stood just a step behind her chair, arms folded beneath that long black coat, golden eyes gleaming with cruel delight.

“Is this the way you greet me?” Akira said, stepping closer. “No hug? I’m hurt.”

Kira stood immediately, shielding Kimiko with one arm as she stepped between them.

Akira tilted her head. “How adorable.”

Kimiko, heart pounding, stood up beside Kira.

“You’re the woman that attacked Zane.”

Akira’s gaze flicked to Kimiko. “And you must be the spawn of that creature,” she said, her lip curling. “I suppose even monsters try to play house.”

She raised her hand.

A blinding column of golden light exploded forward.

Kimiko’s breath caught in her throat.

Kira moved. In a flash, she lunged sideways, shoving Kimiko out of the way—just as the beam fired.

The explosion tore through the restaurant—smashing Kira through two tables and straight out the front window in a shower of glass and landing hard on the hood of her car outside with a sickening metallic crunch.

Screams erupted.

People scattered. Plates shattered. Smoke and sparks filled the air.

Kimiko hit the ground, skidding beside an overturned chair.

She looked up through the chaos, her eyes wide with horror.

Akira strolled through the wreckage like it was a red carpet.

She stopped beside Kimiko, now trembling, heart slamming in her chest.

“Disgusting creature.” Akira said coldly. “No matter how you dress it, impurity reeks.”

The restroom door creaked open behind them.

Kaito stepped out with Zane's unconscious body over his shoulder.

He didn’t say a word.

Akira turned to him. “After you.”

Kaito nodded.

The two exited through the broken entrance without another glance.

Zane was gone. Kira wasn't moving. And Kimiko couldn't stop shaking.