The Tokyo safehouse was a stark contrast to Kael Draven's opulent mansion, a cramped apartment tucked above a ramen shop in a narrow alley. The air smelled of soy sauce and cigarette smoke, the walls paper-thin, letting the city's hum seep through—honking cars, drunken laughter, the distant wail of a siren. Haruaki sat on a sagging couch, the Gatekey a heavy warmth in his pocket, its pulse a constant reminder of the rift he'd sealed hours ago. His body ached, his skin tighter than it should be at seventeen, his hands trembling with the faint lines of age he couldn't ignore. The fracture had taken more from him—years, maybe—and the memory of that shadow, its formless malice reaching through the rift, made his stomach churn.
Rina leaned against the wall, her staff propped beside her, its runes dim but restless. Her red-streaked hair was disheveled, her fire-red eyes scanning a map of Tokyo's Veil, marked with fracture points Taro's contact had provided. Yumi sat on the floor, her knees drawn up, her dark hair falling over her face like a curtain. She'd barely spoken since the attack at Kael's mansion, her silence a weight that pressed on Haruaki's already frayed nerves. Kuro perched on a windowsill, his golden eyes glinting in the neon glow filtering through the blinds, muttering about "secrets and fools" under his breath.
Haruaki's gaze kept drifting to Yumi, her guarded expression stirring fragments of memory—a playground, her laugh, a life before the Lower District's grind. But every time he reached for those memories, they slipped away, leaving only questions. She knew more than she was saying—about the Veil, the elite, the shadows—and her refusal to share was starting to burn. "You need to talk," he said finally, his voice rough but steady. "You keep dropping hints about the Veil, about what's coming. If we're in this together, I need the truth, Yumi."
Her eyes flicked up, sharp and wary, but she didn't respond. Rina snorted, not looking up from her map. "She's got a point, rookie. You're not exactly an open book either, but she's hiding something big. Spill, Yumi, or I'm locking you out of this."
Yumi's jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists. "I'm trying to protect him," she said, her voice low but fierce. "You don't know what's out there, Rina. You think Varyn's bad? He's nothing compared to what's waking in the deep Veil."
Haruaki's chest tightened, the Gatekey pulsing in sync with his rising frustration. "Protect me? By keeping me in the dark? You knew me before, Yumi. You know about the keys, the shadows, maybe even why I'm Fractureborn. Stop treating me like a kid and tell me what's going on."
Yumi stood, her movements sharp, her eyes flashing with something like pain. "You think I want to keep secrets? I'm trying to keep you alive, Haruaki. You don't remember, but I do. We were friends—more than friends—before your parents disappeared. Before the Veil took you."
The words hit like a punch, stirring that same vague memory—a girl's laugh, a warm hand in his, a life that felt like a dream. "Then why don't I remember?" he demanded, standing to face her. "What happened to me? To my family?"
Yumi's lips parted, but she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I… I can't tell you everything. Not yet. It's too dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Haruaki's voice rose, his hands shaking. "I'm already dying, Yumi! Every time I use this damn power, I feel my life slipping away. I deserve to know why!"
Kuro cawed, his wings flaring. "Kid's got a point, girl. Secrets won't help him when the elite come knocking—or worse, those shadows you keep yapping about."
Rina set her map down, her eyes narrowing. "Enough. Yumi, you either trust us or you don't. We're in Tokyo, hunting a Gatekey, with Varyn and who-knows-what-else breathing down our necks. If you're holding out, you're not just risking Haruaki—you're risking all of us."
Yumi's shoulders slumped, her voice barely a whisper. "I was in the Veil when you disappeared, Haruaki. I saw what took your parents. It wasn't just a fracture—it was deliberate. Someone wanted them gone, and they wanted you… marked."
"Marked?" Haruaki's hand went to the Gatekey, its warmth suddenly scalding. "What does that mean?"
Before Yumi could answer, the apartment shook, a low rumble that sent dust cascading from the ceiling. The neon outside flickered, the Veil's pulse surging through the real world. Rina grabbed her staff, flames licking at its tip. "Fracture," she hissed. "Close one."
Kuro swooped to Haruaki's shoulder, his claws digging in. "Here we go again, kid. You ready to bleed for it?"
Haruaki's heart pounded as he stood, the Gatekey burning in his pocket. The apartment's walls shimmered, a rift tearing open in the corner, its edges pulsing with gold. Wraiths slithered through, their green eyes glowing, but they weren't alone. A figure stood in the rift's center—a woman in a silver robe, her hair a cascade of black, her eyes glowing with the same sickly light as the wraiths. She carried a staff, its runes pulsing with power, and her smile was cold, predatory, like Varyn's but sharper.
"Lady Seris," Rina spat, her flames flaring. "Varyn's enforcer."
Seris's gaze locked onto Haruaki, her voice smooth as ice. "The Fractureborn. And the time key. Lord Varyn sends his regards." She raised her staff, and the wraiths surged forward, their forms flickering like static.
Rina's flames roared, incinerating the nearest wraith, but more poured through the rift. Yumi grabbed Haruaki's arm, pulling him toward the door. "We can't fight her here!" she shouted. "She's too strong!"
Haruaki's chest burned, the Veil's pulse overwhelming. He reached for it, the familiar pain igniting as he slowed time, the wraiths' movements freezing mid-lunge. Seris's smile didn't waver, her staff glowing brighter, unaffected by his power. "Foolish boy," she said, her voice cutting through the slowed world. "You can't outrun the elite."
The pain was blinding, his body aging, his breath shallow. He pulled at the rift, trying to seal it, but Seris's power pushed back, her staff's runes flaring. Yumi's voice broke through, desperate. "Haruaki, stop! She's baiting you!"
He didn't listen, couldn't. The rift was his fault—his power, his key. He pushed harder, the pain searing through his bones, his vision blurring as years slipped away. The rift began to close, the wraiths dissolving, but Seris stepped through, her staff aimed at him. Rina's flames hit her, forcing her back, and Haruaki sealed the rift with a final, agonizing pull.
He collapsed, Yumi catching him, his hands shaking, his face lined with new wrinkles. Seris was gone, the rift closed, but her words echoed in his mind. You can't outrun the elite. Rina knelt beside him, her face grim. "You're gonna kill yourself if you keep this up, rookie."
Kuro cawed, landing nearby. "Told you, kid. The elite don't play fair. And that one? She's just the start."
Yumi's grip tightened, her eyes fierce with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Haruaki. I should've told you more. Your parents—they were Fractureborn, too. They were hunting the keys, trying to stop the elite. That's why they were taken."
Haruaki's breath hitched, the weight of her words crushing. His parents, Fractureborn. Marked. Hunted. The Gatekey pulsed, its warmth no longer comforting but accusing. The elite—Varyn, Seris, Kael—they were all part of a game he didn't understand, and Yumi's secrets were only the beginning.
"We need to move," Rina said, standing. "Seris'll be back, and she won't be alone. The shrine's our next stop. We find the twin key before they do."
Haruaki forced himself to stand, his body screaming in protest. Yumi's hand lingered on his arm, her eyes pleading. "I'll tell you everything," she whispered. "I promise. But we have to survive first."
He nodded, though trust was a fragile thing now. The race for the Gatekeys was a war, and the elite's schemes were closing in. He was Fractureborn, caught between worlds, and the truth—about Yumi, his parents, the Veil—was a blade waiting to cut.