February 24th, A Hotel somewhere in London
Shiki stood upon the balcony of his hotel room, the cool night air tousling his hair as he gazed out over the sprawling city of London, its lights shimmering like distant stars. His thoughts, however, were far from serene. In his hand, his phone felt like a lifeline, a tether to the world he feared he might lose. With a furrowed brow and a sense of unease gnawing at his chest, he dialed Nashimi's number, his worry manifesting as a tremor in his voice.
"Nashimi… I cannot help but worry about you being separated from me. What if something befalls you?" His words carried a protective urgency, the very idea of her being in danger stirring an unfamiliar vulnerability within him.
From the other end of the line, Nashimi's voice came through clear and steady, laced with an unmistakable calmness. "I appreciate your concern, brother, but I assure you, I am not so fragile as you believe." There was a certain resolve in her tone, a reassurance that seemed to seep through the phone and into Shiki's anxious heart.
Relief, though fleeting, washed over Shiki as he exhaled deeply, his grip on the phone loosening ever so slightly. "Promise me you shall call me upon your safe arrival?" he implored, the request barely a whisper, but carrying all the weight of his deepest concern.
"Of course," came Nashimi's reassuring reply, tempered with her characteristic determination.
The call ended, and Shiki remained standing at the balcony's edge, staring out at the night, his thoughts a swirling storm of concern. As he stood there, lost in his own musings, a sudden gust of wind blew through the open space, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Then, cutting through the stillness like a blade, a voice echoed in the air, carrying with it a faint amusement.
"Seems like even the 'proclaimed strongest' has his own set of troubles…"
Shiki's gaze snapped toward the voice, his body tensing with immediate suspicion. A figure materialized from the shadows, appearing out of thin air with a grace that betrayed familiarity. The stranger's presence was as sudden as it was unnerving, and Shiki's irritation flared as he regarded them, confusion creeping into his furrowed brow.
"Excuse me, but this is my hotel room. You cannot simply barge in uninvited," Shiki said, his voice growing colder, tempered with a sharp edge of frustration.
The stranger, standing just a few paces away, regarded him with a knowing look, their eyes laced with disappointment. "Don't you remember me, Shiki?"
A sense of disquiet stirred within Shiki as his mind scrambled, searching his memories for any clue of this individual's identity. But nothing came to the forefront, only an unsettling emptiness. "I have never met you in my life," he replied, his voice laced with confusion and a hint of unease.
The stranger's eyes widened in disbelief, their face contorting with frustration. "Wait, you truly do not remember?"
Shiki shook his head, his heart quickening as the unfamiliarity of the situation gnawed at him. "No… I do not."
For a moment, the stranger stood silent, their face a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. Then, with a swift motion, they raised the hilt of a katana and lightly tapped Shiki atop his head. The unexpected strike sent a jolt of pain through his skull, and he yelped in surprise.
"OW! What in the world was that for? I don't even know you!" Shiki exclaimed, rubbing his sore head as he glared at the stranger.
The individual exhaled sharply, clearly unamused. "It's me, Nine," they revealed, their tone laced with a mix of impatience and a touch of exasperation.
Recognition flickered in Shiki's eyes as fragmented memories began to resurface, slowly knitting together in his mind. The realization hit him like a tide, and with it came the unsettling truth. "Nine…" he murmured, his voice tinged with confusion as the fog of his forgotten past began to lift.
The stranger—Nine—waited a moment, allowing Shiki the time to collect himself, before speaking again, their voice laced with an undercurrent of expectation. "Now that you remember, you understand why I am here, do you not?"
Shiki's expression hardened, and a resolute determination settled in his features. "I will not do that," he declared firmly, his voice unwavering as he stood his ground.
Nine's expression shifted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why? Do you truly intend to defy fate? This is the destiny of all things, and still, you refuse?"
Shiki's eyes narrowed, his resolve only strengthening with the weight of the decision before him. "I will not kill my sister, Nine. After all we've been through, after all the memories we've shared, there must be another way. You know this."
Nine's gaze darkened, his voice laced with urgency as he stepped closer. "Then you must choose. You must choose between your sister's life… or that of the light bearer. The decision is yours."
Shiki's face remained impassive, the depth of his conviction unshakable. "I will kill the light bearer, if that is what must be done. It is no problem."
A flicker of relief passed through Nine's eyes, though it was fleeting. "At least you have made a decision," he muttered. Then, his expression turned sly, an air of practicality taking over. "Well then, why not protect me? The light bearer is targeting me, and if you wish to eliminate them, you might as well start with me."
Shiki's eyes hardened, but there was a flicker of understanding in them as he nodded. With their paths now irrevocably intertwined, they knew they would face challenges that would test their very limits, their choices forcing them to confront truths they may not be ready to face.
But neither of them were aware of just how far their journey would take them, nor the secrets that would soon be revealed, secrets that threatened to unravel the very foundation of their existence. Yet, despite the unknowns, they stood firm, their resolve unwavering.
And so, their story unfolded, a tale of fate and choice, of bonds tested and destinies forged.
In the heart of London, the game had begun.