Kill Sector: Tokyo

On the way back, Shiro bought a burger set. Spotting an empty lot—once a park—she suggested eating there.

Miyuki hadn't eaten since morning, only realizing when Shiro pointed it out. His appetite was gone.

He sat silently. Shiro, wordless, stayed by his side.

"I… didn't even like my house or school," Miyuki said suddenly.

Shiro's face fell. "You hated home?"

"Not exactly. I just… thought I wouldn't care if they were gone. I figured I'd never return to school after graduating, or home for years. I had no attachment—or thought I didn't. Seeing them gone… it's such a shock. I didn't know…"

His voice broke. Tears spilled, unstoppable. He wiped them frantically, but they kept coming.

"Sorry… I…" he choked.

Shiro smiled gently, stroking Miyuki's back. He crouched, sobbing uncontrollably.

When he calmed, Shiro spoke. "I don't have a home. Never went to school."

Miyuki stared, stunned. "No home? Your parents… are they gone?"

"No, not that." Shiro's eyes dropped. "I never had them. From the start."

Miyuki froze, gaping. "What… does that mean?"

Shiro only smiled faintly, looking lonely. "So, I'm a bit jealous of you."

Never had them. The words gnawed at Miyuki, but he held back. Shiro's silence hinted at a delicate wound, just as she hadn't pried about his Uroboros tattoo. He shouldn't dig either.

"Sorry for dragging you into this," he said.

Shiro shook her head. "It's okay."

The park was empty, weeds rampant. Yet cherry trees bloomed vibrantly, birds chirped beyond, as if the world didn't need humans.

They listened, Shiro's hand holding Miyuki's tightly.

By the time they returned to the agency, the sun was high.

The mansion was silent—no sounds at the entrance. The guest room and kitchen were still.

"No one's here…" Miyuki muttered.

Shiro's ears twitched. "This way!" she said, darting off.

Miyuki followed. At the hallway, Akagami peeked from the second-floor stairs.

"You're back. Come up," he beckoned.

Miyuki and Shiro climbed, but Akagami's voice called from higher. "To the roof."

Miyuki glanced at Shiro, who tilted her head, clueless. With no answers standing still, they ascended.

The roof was vast, like a gym. Akagami stood at its center, waiting.

At the edge, the crew watched—Naraku the mercenary, Olivier the priest, Shenran in his cheongsam—leaning on the railing, urging Miyuki forward. Olivier's clouded expression tipped him off.

"What's this about?" he asked Akagami, face stiff.

"You'll see. Relax, we're not gonna eat you. Just play along," Akagami said, shrugging, stretching his wrists.

(*He's joking, right!?) Miyuki paled. Ghost clashes meant Animus—and could spiral beyond "playing." Did Akagami grasp that? His serious stance said yes.

Miyuki hated fighting Ghosts, especially using Animus. He stepped back. Shiro peered at him.

"Scared? Wanna stop?"

Her eyes, like those calming a frightened kitten, steadied him. Fearful? Yes. Avoid this? Absolutely. But admitting fear to a girl his age, saying "yes" to "scared?"—he wasn't that cowardly.

Besides, Akagami's offer yesterday felt loaded. He likely suspected Miyuki's explosion was Animus. He wanted confirmation. Hiding further was pointless.

"…Fine. I'll play," he nodded.

Akagami grinned. "Nice. Quick on the uptake. This is my Animus—Legion."

His pupils glowed red. Black mist surged, forming a vague, over-two-meter pillar.

The mist solidified—a figure in black clothes, gloves, military boots, face hidden by a hooded gas mask. Taller than Akagami by half a meter, it swayed, approaching Miyuki silently, like a shadow.

"Not here to kill each other. Think of it as light exercise," Akagami said breezily, a feral glint in his eyes.

"Let's go."

Legion drew two survival knives, spinning them deftly, crossing them at chest level.

It lunged, soundless.

Miyuki twisted, dodging. A knife grazed his right cheek, cutting skin. Blood sprayed.

(Legion… a phantom army?) Not phantom in damage. He retreated, seeking distance. Legion pursued, its blade arcing precisely.

Despite its size, Legion was agile. Its knives' sharp sounds echoed. Miyuki dodged narrowly, repeatedly.

Unfazed, Legion cornered him methodically. He backstepped, ducked, but a blade clipped his hair, strands scattering.

(I'll get cut down!)

He had to fight back. His hand, in his pocket, felt the marbles from his home's lot, with colorful feather patterns.

Without thinking, he acted.

Grabbing five marbles, he scattered them at Legion's feet.

Crack! An explosion like firecrackers roared.

The marbles detonated, upheaving the concrete, sending up thin smoke. The rest exploded in sequence, loud and fierce.

Akagami whispered, grinning. "Here we go."

Legion's left lower body shattered, blown apart. It stumbled, kneeling, eerily calm.

Akagami raised a hand; the soldier dissolved into mist. "Yup, explosion-type Animus."

Miyuki hesitated, then spoke. "…It's Landmine."

"Landmine? Like a mine, right?" Akagami said.

He nodded. Landmine let him detonate touched objects within five minutes. Beyond that, the effect faded unless retouched. He'd kept the blasts small but could level buildings. Only solids worked—liquids didn't.

He gripped the remaining marbles, glad he'd kept them.

"Looks fun. Round two," Akagami said, smirking, summoning two new Legions—black-clad, gas-masked, one with brass knuckles, the other a curved dao sword.

"Go," he whispered.

Both charged.

(*Two at once!?) Miyuki stepped back. The dao's longer reach slashed down.

He leapt aside. The blade gouged the concrete with a clang. Unfazed, Legion attacked again.

The dao arced repeatedly, glinting. Miyuki dodged desperately, no time to admire it.

After evading, he lost balance, slamming his right hand onto the concrete.

Rolling to dodge, he regained footing, but the knuckle Legion's fist aimed for his face.

He blocked with his left palm. The impact jarred, heavy. Despite bracing, the size difference overwhelmed him. He was flung back.

Retreating, he braced for the dao's follow-up, but both Legions stood still, arms limp, as if waiting.

Their "just playing" vibe irked him. He didn't want to kill, but being spared wasn't fun either. Akagami was testing his Animus, not serious, underestimating him.

Legion's damage didn't affect Akagami—his calm face after the explosion proved it.

Miyuki could push back.

Gripping three marbles in each hand, he stood.

The knuckle Legion took a boxer's stance, closing in. Its fists grazed him, chilling his spine. A direct hit could be fatal. He stayed out of range, watching for an opening.

His senses sharpened, reading Legion's moves. After jabs, it threw a heavy right straight.

(Now!)

Miyuki dodged, striking first. He slammed his right fist, clutching marbles, into Legion's side. The punch lacked power, but the surprise staggered it. He detonated the marbles, pulling back.

A sharp crack echoed. A small explosion tore a half-moon hole in Legion's side. Miyuki took no damage.

He circled, slamming his left fist into its other side, detonating again. The second explosion shredded Legion, dissolving it into mist.

Akagami shrugged playfully. "Oof, got me. Finally getting serious?"

His tone was light, but his eyes burned with aggression.

The crew shifted. Naraku and Shenran, initially bored, watched intently. Shiro waved. "Yuki, you got this!"

Miyuki nodded briefly, focus snapping back as Legion's fist flew again.

Shenran muttered, "Moves better than I thought."

He smirked, unimpressed. Olivier said, "Impressive, beating Ryusei's Legion."

"Amateur. Not trained," Naraku said, dropping cigarette ash.

Olivier frowned. "Still, no damage to himself in that explosion. He's mastered his Animus. An amateur couldn't do that, right?"

Silence. Miyuki's movements were clumsy, but his Animus control was precise—minimal blasts, maximum damage.

"It's about guts and will," Naraku said, cigarette to lips, eyes narrowing. "Can he kill?"