The memory of battle still lingered in Kai Hitari's mind—the clash of blades, the roar of monsters, and the weight of Tenrai, his family's ancient sword. But the world moved on, and so did he.
The next day began like any other, but with one difference—Kai returned to school.
News of his heroic stand against a horde of over 100 zombies had spread across the city like wildfire. Images of him, sword in hand, were posted all over social media. His quiet life had been shattered by attention he never asked for.
Students gathered in whispers as he walked through the school gates, their eyes wide with awe and curiosity. Some stared in fear, others in admiration. But Kai ignored them all, his gaze forward, his expression unreadable.
Among the crowd stood Herin Rai, her eyes fixed on him with growing interest.
She wasn't just another student. Herin had a sharp mind, a love for stories, and an obsession with uncovering the truth behind mysterious people. And Kai Hitari… was the most mysterious of them all.
As the class settled, Herin sat only a few rows behind him, notebook in hand. She watched him closely—how he moved, how he never spoke unless spoken to, how he seemed detached from everything around him. Every small detail, she wrote down.
But it wasn't just curiosity. Something about his presence stirred something deeper in her—a desire to understand him, not just as a warrior, but as a person.
Over the next few days, Herin made subtle efforts to grow closer. She asked small questions, shared her own interests, and even offered help with assignments, just to open a door between them. She wanted to know about his past—his family, his powers, his sword. And deep down, she dreamed of writing a novel about his life. A real story of mystery, pain, and strength.
But Kai remained guarded. He answered politely, but never personally.
Frustrated yet determined, Herin decided to take another path.
She approached Rekha Hitari, Kai's close friend and distant relative. Rekha, sharp-eyed and fiercely loyal, wasn't easily fooled.
"You're Herin, right?" Rekha asked, arms crossed. "I've heard you've been getting... curious."
"I just want to understand him," Herin said honestly. "He saved lives. He's important."
Rekha narrowed her eyes. "Or maybe you just want a story. His past isn't yours to steal."
"I'm not stealing," Herin insisted. "I care."
Rekha didn't answer immediately. Then she said, "Listen. Kai's been through more than you can imagine. If you truly care, don't dig where you're not invited."
Later that evening, Rekha found Kai training alone behind the school, slicing through the air with Tenrai in precise, silent motions.
"She's trying to learn about you," Rekha warned. "Herin Rai. Be careful."
Kai paused, sword still raised. "I know."
"You do?"
"She's not the first. And she won't be the last."
Rekha looked at him, worried. "What will you do?"
Kai sheathed his sword and turned to the horizon, where the setting sun painted the sky in blood and gold. "Nothing... unless she crosses the line."
But deep inside, a part of him wondered—why did her eyes remind him of the past he'd locked away?