The morning after Haruto, Lady Takeda, and Sora had left was quieter than any of the siblings had expected. The familiar hum of activity in the castle felt distant, as if the castle itself had absorbed the absence of its ruling family. The usual bustle of servants preparing meals, guards making their rounds, and the subtle murmur of the court seemed muted, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath.
Kaito woke up to a sense of unease. The bed he lay in, surrounded by the familiar tapestries and polished wood of the room, felt smaller. Less secure. The air, once thick with the presence of his father's authority, now seemed emptier. The weight of expectation pressed on his chest, and though his body yearned for rest, his mind spun with thoughts of the future. His father's words still lingered in the air, and the prophecy that seemed to haunt him was no closer to being understood.
Beside him, Raiko stirred, groaning softly before stretching out his arms with a yawn.
"Do we really have to wake up this early?" Raiko muttered, his voice groggy. "Feels like the whole castle's still asleep."
Kaito pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. "It's not that early. But yeah, I guess it feels quiet."
"I'd say it feels weird," Raiko added, looking around the room. "Everyone's gone, and it's just the five of us."
Kaito nodded, his stomach heavy with the same unease. There had been a certain comfort in knowing his father's shadow loomed over the family, guiding their every move. But now, the looming absence left the castle more like a hollow shell, one that would soon be filled with uncertainty.
Keiko's voice interrupted the silence from outside their room. "Are you two awake yet? Breakfast will be ready soon."
Keiko, the third oldest, had always been the one who kept everyone on schedule. Though she wasn't the oldest by age, her calm demeanor and quiet leadership had always made her the glue holding them all together. She wasn't the most outspoken, but Kaito always trusted her when it came to decision-making. As she had grown older, Keiko had become more attuned to the ebb and flow of the castle, sensing when things were off-balance long before anyone else noticed.
"We're up," Kaito called back. He dressed quickly and stepped out into the hall, his mind still tangled in the thought of what lay ahead.
Raiko followed suit, pulling on his shirt with a lack of urgency. "What's the deal with breakfast anyway? Why are we all acting like it's some kind of ceremonial event?"
Kaito offered him a half-smile, but it faded quickly. Their parents had left so suddenly. Even Sora, with her calm, collected nature, seemed unusually withdrawn in the face of this change. No one had spoken about it outright, but it was clear to Kaito that Sora's departure weighed on everyone—her leaving felt like the first domino in a series of events they weren't ready for.
As the siblings gathered in the dining hall, the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filled the air. The table was set as usual, though a noticeable space was left at the head of the table, where their father had always sat. That empty space seemed to stretch larger with each passing second, its significance growing with the silence that filled the room.
The meal passed without much conversation, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Keiko, sitting at the far end of the table, was the first to break the silence.
"I'm sure you all know that things are going to be a little different while they're away," she began, her voice steady, though her eyes flickered between them all. "But I'll be here to help you through it. We'll manage just fine."
Keiko's presence was always reassuring, but Kaito couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Even her calm, practiced demeanor didn't quite ease the tension in the air.
"Things feel off," Raiko said, echoing Kaito's thoughts. "I mean, it's just not the same without Dad."
Kaito felt a strange pang in his chest as he glanced at his younger brother. Raiko had always been the carefree one, but this moment of vulnerability gave Kaito a deeper understanding of his brother. Raiko, too, felt the loss, even if he wasn't as quick to admit it.
Just then, the large wooden doors to the dining hall swung open, and a familiar yet unexpected presence entered the room. It was Aunt Mai—Haruto's sister—who, though not as often seen as their parents, had always held a place of respect in the family.
Her sharp eyes scanned the room, her gaze lingering on Kaito for a moment longer than the others before she greeted them with a thin smile.
"Good morning, my dears," Aunt Mai said, her voice smooth and calculated, as always. She was a woman of refined elegance, her long black hair pinned into a tight bun at the back of her head. Her movements were graceful, but there was something about the way she carried herself that always made Kaito feel like she was observing him rather than simply interacting with him.
"Keiko," Raiko said, his voice slightly surprised. "I thought you were coming tomorrow"
"I wasn't planning on coming today, but coming a day early isn't that big of a deal right?" Aunt Mai replied, her tone far too calm given the situation. She moved to take a seat, her eyes scanning the room. "I trust everything has been…manageable so far?"
"We're managing," Keiko said, offering a polite but somewhat guarded response.
Aunt Mai's sharp eyes flickered toward Kaito, and he could feel the weight of her gaze on him. There was something calculating in her expression, something he couldn't quite place. Her smile, though thin, seemed genuine enough. But there was a layer beneath it that Kaito was beginning to recognize.
"So, Kaito," Aunt Mai began, her voice turning more interested. "I hear you've been… training with your abilities? Your 'demon powers,' was it?"
Kaito froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He glanced around the room, but no one seemed to react. Raiko and Keiko continued eating, oblivious to the tension building in Kaito's chest. The topic of Kaito's abilities had always been something of an unspoken subject among the siblings.
He didn't even have any demons yet—not truly. The power inside him was dormant, an ancient force that lay buried deep within, waiting for the right moment to awaken. But what Aunt Mai didn't understand, or perhaps didn't care to understand, was that Kaito hadn't even begun to access his true potential. He was still just a boy with potential—a potential he hadn't yet learned how to control. His father had always warned him that the time for his powers to surface was approaching, but it hadn't happened yet.
Kaito felt a sharp pang in his chest as Aunt Mai's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. There was something in her gaze, something that flickered for just a moment—a cold, silent envy. He could sense it, even though it wasn't obvious to anyone else. Kaito wasn't sure what it was about his powers that had caused her to react this way, but her sudden interest in him made him uncomfortable.
"You've started using them, though, right?" Aunt Mai pressed, her voice turning more probing. "The powers inside you—how are you managing them?"
Kaito felt his stomach churn. He wanted to say something—tell her that his powers hadn't manifested yet, that it was still all just speculation—but he didn't. Instead, he swallowed hard, looking away.
"I'm still... working on it," Kaito said quietly, his voice low. "There's nothing to manage yet."
Aunt Mai tilted her head, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her expression. For a moment, her eyes locked onto Kaito's, and he could almost feel the weight of her unspoken thoughts pressing against him. It was almost as though she had expected more from him—a sudden outburst of power, or a sign of his abilities waking.
"I see," Aunt Mai said, her voice now cold and composed. "I suppose it takes time for such things to take root."
Kaito kept his gaze steady, but inside, he felt a growing sense of unease. Her jealousy was subtle, but it was there. It simmered beneath the surface, barely masked by her controlled demeanor. The way she had framed her question—so full of expectation—made Kaito feel like he had somehow disappointed her, though he had no idea why.
"I'm sure your powers will come in time," she added, her voice returning to its previous, almost clinical calm. "In the meantime, it's good to know you're surrounded by family."
The others seemed oblivious to the tension that hung in the air. Keiko continued her meal with a neutral expression, and Raiko, ever the carefree one, laughed at something else he had said, as though nothing unusual had transpired.
Kaito, however, couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him. There was something about Aunt Mai's presence—her pointed words, the slight edge to her smile—that left him with a sense of foreboding.
Aunt Mai's gaze lingered on Kaito for a few more moments, and as if sensing that she had made her point, she turned to the others, shifting the conversation to something more casual. But Kaito couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. The room, once warm and familiar, now felt cold and distant, as if Aunt Mai's visit had introduced a subtle shift in the family dynamic.
And Kaito couldn't help but wonder if he had just become part of something bigger—something he wasn't yet prepared for.