Two days had passed since Akira's world came crashing down.
Akira simply lay in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind a maelstrom of grief and anger.
Physical pain from his injuries did little to impress him compared to the turmoil racking his mind.
His door creaked open, and a woman entered.
She was in her early thirties, commanding presence, and an aura of authority and strength that stirred the air around her.
Her eyes were red from crying, and her face a mask of sorrow and resolve.
"I am Eri," - She introduced herself.
"Akira Shoto?"
Eri asked gently as she approached his bed.
Her voice was soft, but there was firmness to it that demanded attention.
Akira turned his head slowly, his eyes meeting hers.
"Yes, that's me."
"Who're you?"
"I'm Eri."
"I was a good friend of your father,"
She answered with a slight shake in her voice.
"I'm also a high-ranking A-rank STAR."
Akira's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his father.
"I came here because...because I want to help you avenge him."
The word vengeance flared something inside Akira.
Forced by his mind, he tugged himself up a bit higher.
"Why would you help me?"
She took a deep breath and steadied herself, tears in her eyes as she spoke.
"Your father and I were close enough to consider each other friends."
"He was more than a friend he is like a mentor to me."
"When I heard what happened I couldn't just stand by."
"I want to see justice done for him and I believe you can help."
Akira cast his gaze aside, his mind racing with thoughts.
"What am I supposed to do?"
"I am just a weakling i have nothing to offer."
Eri shook her head with a stern expression.
"You are not just a weakling."
"I got news"
"That the fortune of your father has been left to you."
"That fortune comes in handy."
"The devices he created to trace Nightfall-the ones behind everything-it's still under your possession."
"That technology is what we need to track down and bring those guilty before us."
Akira stared into her face as the meaning of her words slowly dawned on him.
"So you're telling me that I can also make a difference without superpowers?"
Eri nodded, her face a mask of determination.
"Right."
"With your resources and access to your father's technology, we'll be able to track Nightfall and get the intel we need."
"And you have my word I will do everything in my power to ensure we bring them to justice."
"Of course this is only can happen if you only agree."
Akira exhaled a deep breath and spoke words of consideration.
Working with her had been intimidating, but it provided a way out-a means to convert his anger and sorrow into something constructive.
"Alright"
He said at last, his voice level but firm.
"I'll do it."
"I'll take care of everything we may need"
A glimmer of relief danced across Eri's face as she leaned forward and grasped his hand.
"Thank you Akira."
"I know this is a lot to ask, but we must move fast, really fast."
"Your father was an incredible man, and his death cannot remain unpunished."
Akira nodded a fire grew in his eyes.
Still in shock due to the traumatizing event, this chance for acting, seeking justice about his parents, gave him some sense.
"Let's do this."
Eri squeezed his hand softly; her eyes showed deep sadness and hope.
"We will, together."
"I promise."
"And i have something else to speak with you."
"We need to talk about the funeral."
Akira's expression darkened.
"I'm going," he said flatly. "I don't care what anyone says."
Eri sighed and slouched forward slightly.
"I know you wish very much to be there to bid her a proper goodbye."
"But something more than grief is at stake, Akira."
"You will have no time to mourn if you go."
"Everyone will be watching you."
Her words hung suspended.
Akira regarded her, furrowed his brows.
"What do you mean?"
Eri was talking quietly, but with a watchful caution.
"Your father was not an ordinary man, Akira. He was a force of new ideas, of strength and of power a pillar. People will approach you—not to mourn, but with requests, petitions, and proposals. Those who have something to gain in his business will gather around you, looking for weaknesses through which to strike. They will attempt to guide you toward making choices that will benefit them, not you."
Akira made his fists tight and his jaw stiff.
"I'm not afraid of them."
"I know you're not,"
Eri said, her voice calm, but her eyes showed real worry.
"But sorrow is like a storm."
"You are open to being hurt at the moment, even if you refuse to acknowledge it."
"And these individuals—" she stopped, her tone becoming resolute— "they will exploit that.
"If you want to remember your father without hurting too much, it is better to keep at a distance and look on from afar. You can remain there in spirit, but without putting yourself in diffciul situation."
Akira stared at her for a long moment, his mind torn between his pride and the wisdom in her words.
"So you're telling me not to go at all?"
Eri shook her head.
"Not exactly."
"I'll take you where you can see everything without being seen."
"You'll be able to watch the ceremony, the folks, and hear what they have to say in his memory.
"But you won't have to endure the people trying to get something from his estate."
Akira's enthusiasm was extinguished by doubt now.
"What if I don't go?"
"Then I'll be with you," Eri declared firmly.
"But you'll know exactly what I mean when the questions start pouring in and the pressure mounts."
"I don't want that for you, Akira. Not today. Let today be about him, not the world trying to claw at you."
Akira let out a deep breath, easing a bit in his shoulders. He didn't want to hide or not stand up when he should. But he knew Eri was right deep within. "Okay," he grumbled, his tone showing he didn't want to agree. "Take me to that place."
Eri smiled faintly, a glimmer of relief breaking through her sorrow.
"Thank you, Akira."
"You're making the right choice." She stood, her presence commanding yet kind.
"I'll prepare everything." - Then Eri left the room.
The sun was low in the sky, its orange light extending long shadows across the hills. Akira stood motionless alongside Eri on a distant ridge, his body rigid and immovable. Below, the funeral ceremony went on like a dismal drama on an open stage.
The throng was massive. Individuals from all walks of society had turned out to pay their respects to Shiro Shoto, the individual whose brilliance had touched so many. Akira's eyes identified dignitaries, corporate executives, and STARS of all grades. They blended with somber faces, offering flowers and tributes that rang hollow from afar.
At the very center was his father's funeral pyre—a towering, intricately carved structure covered in white lilies and golden ribbons, its beauty belied by the sorrow it symbolized. And seeing it struck Akira like a knife to the heart.
"He deserved better than this," Akira whispered, his voice heavy with emotions.
Eri stayed beside him, arms folded, her presence still but reassuring.
"He deserved peace," - She said softly.
"Not the conflict that ripped him from you."
Akira's fists were clenched tightly against his sides, his nails digging into the flesh of his palms. He was barely able to breathe as the fire was ignited, its orange flames reaching down to caress the base of the pyre. The blaze spread quickly, its boisterous voice claiming the stillness, as well as his father.
Akira observed as the fire consumed the body of the man who was everything to him. This depressed and infuriated him. His eyes welled up with tears, but he would not shed them. His chest rose and fell as he steeled himself to hold strong, his eyes on the flames.
"I should be down there," - He said through gritted teeth.
"I should be standing by his side, sending him off like a son should."
"Instead, I'm up here...hiding."
"You're not hiding,"
Eri whispered, yet her tone was resolute.
"You're protecting yourself."
"You're giving yourself an opportunity to retaliate another day."
Your father would never want you to buckle beneath the vultures and opportunists.
"He'd want you to live."
Akira's head shook, and his tone turned bitter.
"Strong?"
"I'm not strong, Eri."
"I'm weak."
"I couldn't keep him safe."
"I couldn't prevent any of this from occurring."
"Now all I can do is stand here and let them burn him like."
His voice cracked, but he forced himself to swallow hard.
"Like he was just another victim."
Eri placed her hand on his shoulder.
Her hand was firm, but soft.
"You could not have prevented it, Akira."
"But you can ensure that it not to end here."
"You can ensure that they pay."
Her words resonated in him, turning his rage into a raging fire.
Akira's eyes hardened as he looked at the flames consuming the remaining pieces of his father's body. His grief turned into something harder and more precise—a resolve made from pain and wrath.
"I promise," - He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper and trembling with strong emotions,
"I will bring them down."
"All of them who had a hand in this."
Eri nodded, her expression one of tranquil comprehension.
"Then hold onto that resolve, Akira."
"Let it guide you, but not control your life."
"Your father would not wish for you to lose yourself."
Akira did not utter a single word.
He stared into the fire, his heart pounding due to his vow. When the fire engulfed the last vestiges of his father's existence, Akira sensed something within him shift—a shift from grief to unyielding determination.
He had a plan, a way to avenge his family, and a trusted ally to help him through the perils that lay ahead.
Akira stared at his mother through the glass window of her hospital room.
The soft, steady beep of the heart monitor was the only indication of life-a painful reminder of the silence that now dominated what once was a vibrant presence.
He clenched his fists, silently