Shinkai - The Eyes That Shouldn't Exist

The tavern was tucked beneath a sloping arch of old stone, its wooden sign faded from sun and steam. Inside, the walls glowed golden from lanterns shaped like floating spirits, flickering slightly when laughter got too loud. Setsuna was right Nobody really cared about his eyes as long as he was wearing the Emblem of the Royal Guard.

The scent of grilled meat and honeybread clung to the air.

Kazuo sat at a corner table with Sora and Tetsu, arms crossed, trying not to smile.

He failed.

"This is good," he muttered, chewing slower than necessary.

"You mean the food?" Sora asked, licking sauce from her fingers.

"Obviously."

"You haven't even touched the spiced cider."

"I don't drink," Kazuo said.

Sora blinked. "Oh. You're one of those."

Tetsu, surprisingly, already had a glass in hand. His coat was off, his goggles pushed to his forehead. He looked… normal.

"Surprising," Kazuo said. "I thought you'd be hiding from contact or microbes."

"I'm not that petty." Tetsu said calmly.

Sora leaned back in her seat, tail flicking lazily behind her. "Well, if the introvert's drinking, then you have no excuse."

"I'm not—"

"I meant Kazuo."

"Still no," he said with a smirk, licking gravy off his thumb. "But I'll eat everything on this table."

He wasn't lying.

It had been days since a real meal. Maybe longer. Between training, travel, capture, and royal politics, he hadn't even realized how hungry he was. It tasted like peace.

"Setsuna hasn't told us anything," Sora said suddenly, breaking the relaxed rhythm. "About you, I mean."

Kazuo looked up.

She wasn't accusing — just observing. Her eyes weren't narrowed, but they weren't playful either.

"I get it," she said. "You don't have to explain. But I really wanna know what exactly happened that you are going to participate in the torunament."

Kazuo hesitated, the warmth in his stomach suddenly clashing with the tension in his shoulders.

Kazuo was quiet.

For a moment, it looked like he wouldn't answer.

But then he leaned back, eyes on the lanterns above, their glow dancing faintly in his green eye.

"…Alright," he said softly. "I'll tell you."

The scene faded slightly — not the sound around them, not the warmth of the tavern, but the sharpness of the moment — as if the details of what he said didn't matter as much as the fact that he chose to speak.

Time passed.

When the silence returned, it was heavier, more thoughtful.

Sora was still. Her tail wasn't swishing.

Even Tetsu had set his drink down.

"…That's why?" Sora said, voice low.

Kazuo nodded.

"No wonder Setsuna didn't say anything," Tetsu murmured, almost to himself.

Sora glanced at Kazuo again — not with pity, but something close. Something gentler.

"…Must've taken a big toll on you."

Kazuo didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

The air between them said enough.

Tetsu spoke next — tilting his head slightly.

"I wonder what you're going to wish for."

Kazuo blinked. "Wish?"

Tetsu looked genuinely puzzled. "You don't know?"

Sora turned to him slowly, ears flicking once. "…Setsuna really didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

She raised a brow. "Typical. So. The Tournament of Nobles — big shiny stage, nobles watching, all that — ends with a prize."

"What kind of prize?" Kazuo asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

"A wish," Sora said, stretching her arms behind her head. "Granted by the King himself. Anything you ask gets fulfilled."

Kazuo stared at her.

"…Anything?," he asked.

"Anything in Cedrics Power." she answered

"Why wouldn't Setsuna tell me that?"

"Maybe he thought you'd fight better without knowing," Tetsu offered, sipping from his glass. "Or maybe he knew it'd mess with your head."

Kazuo frowned.

A wish. From the King.

He could ask for answers. For Gramps's safety. For freedom. For a place to disappear.

But the idea felt strange in his chest — not comforting, not promising. Just… heavy. As if every path came with strings.

Sora's gaze softened. "Whatever you choose… just make sure it's what you want. Not what someone else pushed on you."

Still no words from him.

Just a slow breath as something shifted inside.

And then —

He heard laughter.

At first, it came from across the tavern — raw and carefree, tumbling out between gulps of ale and half-sung songs. A lute strummed somewhere near the bar. Boots thudded on old wood. Someone clapped in rhythm. The scent of grilled meat, sweat, and spiced cider hung in the air like warmth.

Not tension.Not duty.Not survival.

Just life.

Kazuo's eyes wandered — for real this time.

Sora had propped her feet on the bench beside him, curled up like a smug housecat, gnawing on meat skewers and humming quietly with the music. Tetsu was on his second drink now, drawing patterns on a napkin that probably correlated alcohol to reaction time, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Kazuo leaned back into his seat.

Still unsure.

Still guarded.

But something inside him… loosened.

His food was gone. He hadn't even remembered finishing it.

For a long moment, he just sat in the golden glow of the hanging lanterns. Watching. Breathing.

And something stirred inside him.

Again. What is this feeling?

He couldn't name it.

But it was warm. Familiar. Like the scent of wood smoke in winter.

Like old books in Gramps' study.

Like Rei shouting at him for eating all the dried meat in their market stall.

It felt like—

Home.

His throat tightened.

And when Sora turned to say something else, she froze.

"…Kazuo."

He looked up, blinking.

"Huh?"

Sora tilted her head slightly. Not mocking. Not teasing.

Her ears were still.

"Are you… crying?"

Kazuo touched his cheek. His fingertips came back wet.

"What the—?" He frowned. "Tears?"

He hadn't even noticed them fall.

Sora didn't joke. Not this time.

Her gaze softened, just slightly. She realized that he carries more then he lets on.

Kazuo looked down, trying to steady his breath.

Then, from beside him, Tetsu spoke, voice calm as ever.

"We're a team now, you know."

Kazuo blinked.

Tetsu sipped his drink. "If anything happens… you can count on us."

Silence followed — but not the heavy kind.

This one was warm.

Kazuo let it settle.

Then he smiled. Genuinely. Eyes closed, head tilted just slightly as he exhaled through his nose.

"…Thanks, guys."

When he opened his eyes again, Sora was staring at him — a little too long.

And just for a second, her ears twitched upward… and her cheeks flushed.

She looked away with a quiet "tch," suddenly very interested in her drink.

Kazuo didn't say anything but it felt… right.

Until a shadow fell across the table.

Heavy boots stopped just short of their bench.

Kazuo looked up.

A massive figure stood there — broad-shouldered, scarred, arms folded like a wall of muscle barely held together by a stained guard vest. One eye was bruised, the other sharp with the kind of look that didn't need a reason to start a fight.