Chapter 1

They say the eyes are the mirrors of the soul, revealing truths that words cannot. They expose the pain we hide, the burdens we carry.

That night, I saw two pairs of eyes. One pair was as blue as a summer sky, vibrant and boundless. The other was dark as the ocean under the night sky, deep and impenetrable.

Regret lingered in both gazes, raw and unspoken. There are many kinds of regrets: words left unsaid, mistakes made, wounds inflicted, and fateful meetings that should never have occurred.

“It’s a pity we met tonight,” the girl whispered, her voice trembling with sorrow as she cast away the memories that haunted her.

Their eyes met one last time before they lunged into battle. This fight would decide everything—one victory to end it all, one death to liberate two souls.

"If only we hadn’t met that day," Harabi muttered under her breath.

Two years earlier

The fireplace crackled, its warmth battling the relentless howl of the wind outside. Tree branches scraped against the window panes, and shadows danced across the walls of the small room.

The fire consumed a book, its pages blackened and curling in the heat. The thick cover, however, resisted the flames, standing stubborn against the destruction.

A girl sat on a worn armchair, rubbing her red, swollen eyes, heavy with exhaustion. Her long black hair fell in disarray around her shoulders, her nightgown wrinkled and her snow-white skin marred with faint irritation.

Harabi Kurosaki, the youngest daughter of the esteemed Kurosaki family, rose from her chair. Bare feet touched the cold floor as she walked to the window and pressed her fingers against the frosted glass.

“So cold... The cold has come early this year,” she murmured.

A sharp knock at the door startled her.

“Who’s there?” Harabi asked, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“It’s me, Miss Kurosaki,” the maid called from the other side. “I’ve brought a letter from the academy.”

“The door isn’t locked. Come in.”

The door creaked open, and the maid entered, carrying a sealed envelope.

“You’re awake at this hour again,” the maid said softly. “Another sleepless night?”

“Insomnia,” Harabi replied dismissively. “What about the letter? It’s arrived, hasn’t it?”

“Yes,” the maid confirmed, holding it out. “It came just now. I thought to deliver it in the morning, but I saw the light in your room.”

Harabi reached out with trembling fingers, her eyes fixed on the envelope as though it held her destiny. She hesitated for a moment before tearing it open. Her gaze flitted across the words, her breath quickening with every line.

“Dear Kurosaki Harabi... We are pleased to inform you... Your test results were among the highest... We look forward to welcoming you to Eden Chronicles Academy...”

“I passed,” Harabi whispered, the realization dawning slowly. “I really passed!”

The maid smiled gently. “Congratulations, Miss. I knew you would.”

“I did it! Look, I did it!” Harabi exclaimed, her joy spilling over.

“Not so loud, Miss,” the maid warned. “You’ll wake the others. If your mother hears...”

Harabi lowered her voice but could not suppress her excitement. “I’ll finally be able to leave these walls. For the next few years, I’ll be free. My life—”

“Miss,” the maid interrupted gently, “there is still much to prepare. You’ll have to wait another month, but for now, you need rest. If your mother sees those tired eyes, it won’t end well for either of us.”

Harabi nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. She’ll be furious if she sees me like this.”

The maid guided her back to bed, tucking the blanket snugly around her. “Sleep now, Miss. I’ll take care of the fire.”

As she approached the fireplace, the maid’s gaze fell on the charred remnants of a book. Its blackened cover stood out among the ash.

“You burned another of Meruka’s diaries,” she said softly. “Don’t you feel any regret?”

“They were just gathering dust on the shelves,” Harabi replied, her voice cold. “There’s nothing important in them anyway.”

The maid sighed. “If I were you, I’d keep them. Your sister—”

“They bring sadness to this place,” Harabi interrupted.

The maid smiled faintly, her expression tinged with melancholy. “Meruka was the golden child. I still remember baking cookies with her. She adored you, always making your favorites. She would have been so proud of you.”

“I know,” Harabi murmured, her voice barely audible.

The maid extinguished the fire, gathered the charred remains, and left the room quietly. Harabi stared at the window one last time before closing her eyes, a small, hopeful smile gracing her lips.

“I’ll see everyone again,” she whispered as sleep finally claimed her.

A Month Later

The city of Nox was a gem nestled in the northern reaches of Misty Island. Renowned for its exquisite textiles and beloved national dishes, it offered residents a rare sense of peace. Towering mountain peaks stood like vigilant guardians around the city, shielding it from harm. Here, life was serene—if one could overlook the biting cold and frequent snowfalls.

Harabi stood by the frosted window, watching the sun pierce through the cloudy sky.

“I can’t believe it’s sunny today,” she said, a rare smile lighting up her face.

“It’s a rare gift in Nox,” replied Laura, her maid, folding the last piece of clothing into a suitcase. “Perhaps the weather is celebrating your departure, Miss.”

Harabi smirked. “Of course, it is. Everything today is in my honor.” She glanced at the packed luggage. “Well, the suitcases are ready.”

“Are you sure two suitcases will be enough for you?” Laura asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why would I need more? I’ll come back for the holidays anyway.”

The maid hesitated before speaking again. “Are you absolutely certain you don’t want me to come with you?”

“No need to worry,” Harabi said with a casual wave of her hand. “I’m almost sixteen. I can take care of myself. Besides, my magic has improved.”

To demonstrate, she flicked her wrist, summoning a book from the windowsill. It floated through the air, but just as it reached her hands, it tumbled to the floor with a loud thud.

“Um... I meant for that to happen,” Harabi muttered, cheeks turning pink.

Laura shook her head, a mix of fondness and concern in her expression. “It’s not your magic that worries me, Miss. It’s your health.”

Harabi scoffed lightly. “I’ll be fine. The Academy is outside of Nox, which means the climate will be much warmer. I’m as healthy as a wolf!”

“I still can’t believe Madam Nemura allowed you to go,” Laura said, her voice laced with disbelief.

“Don’t fret,” Harabi replied. “I’ll be careful. And anyway, it’s time for you to enjoy your vacation. You deserve it.” She smiled warmly at the maid. “I’ll carry my own suitcases, don’t worry.”

“Wait,” Laura said suddenly, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a small amulet in the shape of the crescent moon and placed it in Harabi’s hands.

“This is for you,” Laura said softly. “I cast a blessing spell on it. It’s my gift to you for getting into the Academy.”

Harabi stared at the amulet, touched by the gesture. “Laura... Thank you. For this and for everything.” She clasped it tightly, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ll see you in winter.”

Laura smiled, though her eyes betrayed the sadness of parting. “Take care of yourself, Miss.”

With a wave of her hand, Harabi sent the two suitcases floating behind her as she made her way downstairs. In the grand hall, three figures awaited her: Kurosaki Norio, her father and head of the Kurosaki family; Kurosaki Nemura, her elegant mother; and the family butler, who stood ready to assist.

“Harabi, my lovely daughter,” Nemura greeted, opening her arms.

“Mother, thank you for letting me go,” Harabi said, embracing her. She turned to her father. “And Father, thank you for the recommendation letter. It helped me so much.”

Norio nodded, his expression a mix of pride and sternness. “The butler will load your belongings into the carriage. If you don’t leave soon, you’ll miss your train.” He sighed. “I wish Ryu were here to see you off. He would have been so proud.”

“And Meruka,” Nemura added, her voice tinged with melancholy. “My children have grown so quickly. She would have been so happy for you.”

“I’ll make our family proud,” Harabi said firmly. “Don’t worry about me—I’ll take care of myself. And who knows? Maybe I’ll meet Ryu at the Academy. I hope he’s still there.”

“Your older brother could at least visit for a week,” Norio grumbled.

“Not his style,” Harabi replied with a small chuckle.

Nemura placed a gentle hand on Harabi’s cheek. “At least he’s there to look after you.”

Norio checked his watch. “It’s time, Harabi. The train won’t wait.”

Harabi gave them one last smile. “Goodbye, Mother. Father. I’ll see you soon.”

As she climbed into the waiting carriage, Norio called out, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “Harabi, just remember... we love you.”

Nemura added, “Take care, my dear.”

Harabi waved as the carriage began to move, her gaze lingering on the family home. For the first time in her life, she was leaving Nox. The thought both thrilled and terrified her.

As the snowy peaks of the city faded into the distance, she took a deep breath and let a smile curve her lips. A new chapter awaited her, full of possibilities.

An hour later, she arrived at the train station. Standing beside the butler, she clutched the amulet in her hand, her heart pounding with anticipation.

The station was bustling, filled with the noise of departing trains and the chatter of travelers. Harabi Kurosaki stood amidst the chaos, her gaze scanning the crowd. Her dark eyes betrayed a mix of nervousness and determination, though she carried herself with practiced poise.

A sudden voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Kurosaki, Mr. Norio informed me that you'll be accompanied by the eldest son of the Morgan family and the daughter of the Lawrence family," her butler stated matter-of-factly.

Harabi frowned. "And no one thought to tell me sooner? I didn't know father wrote the recommendation letters to other families too. So, where could they be now?"

Before butler could respond, a deep voice cut through the air from behind her.

"We've been waiting for you for quite some time."

Turning sharply, Harabi was met by a striking figure—a young man with fiery red hair leaning nonchalantly against the wall. His sly smile and piercing gaze immediately set her on edge.

"Morgan Gray," he introduced himself, his voice carrying an air of arrogance. "Surely you've heard of me. Our families have been... allies for years."

Harabi remained silent, her expression unreadable.

Morgan's smirk deepened as he continued, "It’s rare to see you out in the open. Rumor had it that you were... well, no longer among the living. Much like your sister."

The words struck like a whip. Harabi's hand clenched into a fist.

"Enough!" Butler's voice rang with authority. "Mr. Gray, I suggest you choose your words carefully. The Kurosaki family leads the city of Nox. Insulting its youngest heir is not a matter to take lightly."

Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender. "No offense intended. Just thought Miss Kurosaki should know what’s being said in her absence."

Harabi refused to let him see how deeply his words had cut. She turned sharply on her heel. "We’re leaving."

"As you wish, madam."

Morgan’s voice followed her. "Until we meet again, Miss Kurosaki."

She did not look back.

Butler looked at the girl. He sighed, wanting to day something, that could make her smile. But Harabi spoke first.

"The train will be here soon. I am so worriedly. My legs are shaking, I hope everything goes well. "

The butler smiled and chukled: " You seem scared"

"Who? Me? Of course not." - Harabi answered looking back at the butler, - "i have waited so Ling for this moment. Just wait. When I graduate, I will be a great magician, just like my father."

The announcement of the train’s arrival filled the air as Harabi approached the platform. The sight of the massive, foreboding train sent a shiver down her spine. Unlike the elegant carriages her parents used for travel, this train radiated power and mystery.

The doors slid open with a hiss, and a stream of young men and women in matching crimson uniforms stepped out. Each bore the academy’s emblem, a hexagonal star, proudly displayed on their jackets. Behind them, armored knights stood in silent vigilance.

From the group, a figure emerged—a girl with dark violet hair, a turquoise strand falling across her sharp amber eyes. Her presence commanded attention.

"Adena Redheart," Harabi murmured. "The Queen’s daughter and the academy’s student council president."

Adena’s voice was calm yet authoritative as she addressed the crowd. "Welcome to the academy’s transport station. I am Adena Redheart, and I will oversee the boarding process. Before entry, all magical artifacts must be declared and left behind. Our guards will ensure their safe return to your homes."

She scanned the crowd, her gaze unwavering. "We will begin with those at the top of the list. Harabi Kurosaki, step forward."

Harabi’s heart pounded as all eyes turned to her. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. Her moment had arrived. With a determined step, she approached the train, ready to face the path ahead.

Chapter 2

The small windows lining the train's corridors were sealed tightly, muting any sound from the outside world. Harabi Kurosaki walked briskly, her steps echoing softly against the metal floor as she scanned the cabin numbers, searching for 304C. At last, she found it. A small plaque on the door bore the names: Tatsuki Shirakawa & Harabi Kurosaki.

A smile tugged at her lips as she reached for the handle. The door creaked open, and a faint, sweet aroma wafted out to greet her. Cherries. Tatsuki’s favorite perfume lingered in the air like a signature.

“I thought you’d never come in,” Tatsuki’s familiar voice chimed, a trace of amusement in her tone.

“I got lost,” Harabi admitted with a sheepish grin. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“A month, hardly that long,” Tatsuki replied, though her smile betrayed her own delight. “Still, I’m glad to see you.”

“It felt like the longest month,” Harabi said with a chuckle, stepping inside.

“Well, we’ll be seeing much more of each other now,” Tatsuki assured her, smoothing the hem of her uniform. “Congratulations on your admission, by the way. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ve been at the academy longer, and I’m on a higher course than you, so…”

Harabi raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye. “That doesn’t necessarily mean you’re smarter.”

Tatsuki smirked. “Who knows?”

They both laughed, the easy camaraderie of old friends filling the cabin.

“So,” Harabi asked after a moment, “when will we get there?”

“Tomorrow evening, most likely,” Tatsuki replied. “There are still cities to visit, more students to pick up.”

“What’s the next stop?”

“Soleil.”

At the mention of the city, Harabi fell silent. Her expression turned pensive, her gaze distant.

“What is it?” Tatsuki asked, leaning forward. “You went quiet all of a sudden.”

“When you say Soleil,” Harabi murmured, “there’s only one person that comes to mind.”

“Rumiya Sudzukawa,” Tatsuki guessed, her voice dropping slightly.

The city of Soleil sweltered under a relentless sun, its golden rays scorching the bare skin of anyone caught outside. A hot wind swept through the bustling streets, rustling the fabric of umbrellas held tightly by the city’s residents as they sought refuge from the heat. Unlike Nox, Soleil was a city of dry, searing summers and rare, cherished rains. Life here never paused, even under the oppressive sun.

Among the throng of hurried passersby was a girl with striking light blue eyes. She sat on a suitcase at the station, clutching a guitar case in one hand and shading her face with the other. Her lips parted in a heavy sigh.

“So hot,” she whispered, her gaze drifting skyward.

The townspeople, rushing about their errands, cast wary glances at her as they passed, whispering amongst themselves. Everyone in Soleil knew her.

Rumiya Sudzukawa—the youngest daughter of the Sudzukawa family. Her father had died nine years ago, her elder sister was presumed missing, and her mother had fled the city, leaving her behind at the tender age of eight. The elders had seized the opportunity to turn her into a puppet, molding her into the family’s unwilling heir. Yet even as the sole representative of the Sudzukawa name, the people of Soleil could not accept her. To them, she was the cursed daughter of a cursed lineage, a burden on their city.

Rumiya shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, pulling herself further into the shadows. Her fingers tightened around the guitar case as she murmured, “I wish the train would come already…”

Finally, a distant whistle signaled its arrival. The gleaming train pulled into the station with a rush of air. Rumiya stood, adjusting the strap of her guitar case before approaching a tall, sharp-eyed figure waiting by the platform—the president of the student council.

“Sudzukawa?” she asked, her voice crisp.

“Yes,” she answered softly, bowing her head.

“I heard thirteen students from Soleil were admitted to the academy,” Adena began, her tone laced with disapproval. “The limit is ten. How did this happen?”

“Thirteen?” Rumiya echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion.

The president crossed her arms. “The academy confirmed their admission, but only because of their recommendations. All of them were endorsed by the elders, except for you. You’re the only one admitted with a recommendation from the Sudzukawa family.”

Her heart sank at his words. She bit her lower lip, struggling to suppress the knot of anxiety rising within her.

“Does this mean you had no knowledge of these students?” Adena pressed.

“I didn’t,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The elders… they don’t consult me about these matters.”

Redheart studied her for a moment, she chukled. “I see. The elders have taken control over you.”

Rumiya’s silence was her only response.

“Regardless,” The president said, stepping aside, “board the train. Your cabin is 407B.”

With a slight nod, she clutched her belongings and stepped forward, disappearing into the train’s cool interior.

....

Rumiya entered the train, glancing nervously at her surroundings. She tightened her grip on the guitar case slung over her shoulder, her other hand clutching her hood as she pulled it further over her head. While her luggage had been taken by staff, she refused to let anyone touch the guitar case—it was far too precious to her.

Walking down the narrow corridor, she paused at the cabin door, marked with the number she had been given. After a deep breath, she knocked three times. The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a striking young woman with vivid red hair cascading down her back. Her deep crimson eyes seemed to flicker like flames as they locked onto Rumiya’s pale blue ones.

“Who are you?” the girl asked sharply, her voice sharp and commanding. “I don’t recall calling for a servant.”

Rumiya took a step back, startled. “Wait, I’m not—”

“Ah,” the girl interrupted with a smirk, her tone softening slightly. “You must be my cabin mate.”

“Yes... that’s right,” Rumiya replied hesitantly, her voice barely audible.

The girl’s expression shifted as she offered a small bow. “Florence Eiles, from Teikos. You can call me Eiles. Welcome to our cabin.”

Eiles stepped aside, allowing Rumiya to enter. The cabin was modest but cozy, with two small beds placed opposite each other and matching bedside tables between them.

“My bed is on the left, yours is on the right,” Eiles said nonchalantly. “So, what’s your name again?”

“Rumiya... Rumiya Sudzukawa,” she replied.

“Sudzukawa?” Eiles repeated, her eyebrows raising slightly. “That name sounds familiar... Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hmm... Sudzukawa... Aren’t you from Soleil?”

“Yes, Soleil is my hometown.”

Eiles’ eyes lit up as recognition dawned on her. “Oh, now I remember. The Sudzukawa family! You’re that mysterious daughter everyone talks about. Some people even say you’re cursed—”

Rumiya flinched but quickly masked her discomfort. “Oh, I see...”

Eiles’ cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she hurriedly backtracked. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to say that! I have a bad habit of saying things without thinking. Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Rumiya said softly, forcing a small smile. “I’m used to it.”

Eager to change the subject, Eiles leaned closer, studying Rumiya’s face intently. “You know, I’ve heard good things too. Like how the Sudzukawa's daughter is known for her beautiful sapphire eyes. People say they look like precious jewels sparkling in the sunlight.”

Rumiya chuckled nervously, shifting uncomfortably under Eiles’ gaze. “My eyes are a little lighter than that,” she explained, stepping closer to the light streaming through the small window. Her pale blue eyes shimmered faintly, catching the sunlight, though they lacked the deep intensity. “You must be thinking of my older sister.”

“Your older sister?”

“Mire Sudzukawa,” Rumiya said quietly.

Eiles’ jaw dropped in shock. “Wait a second... Mire Sudzukawa? Isn’t she the one who killed Kurosaki Meruka? And then disappeared mysteriously? Oh my gosh, and you’re her younger sister?”

Rumiya stiffened, taking a step back, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, her face betrayed her emotions, but she quickly forced herself to smile. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bring that up!” Eiles exclaimed, groaning in frustration. “Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?”

“It’s alright,” Rumiya replied with a small laugh. “You’re just... honest. I appreciate that.”

Eiles glanced at the guitar case lying on Rumiya’s bed. “Is that a guitar?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You play, don’t you?”

“Yes, it’s my hobby.”

Eiles grinned. “Play something for me! Something to lighten the mood.”

Rumiya raised an eyebrow, amused. “You really say whatever comes to your mind, don’t you?”

“I guess so. Is that a good thing?”

“Maybe,” Rumiya replied, opening her guitar case. She sat down and adjusted the instrument. “Any requests?”

“Play your favorite song,” Eiles suggested, leaning forward eagerly.

Rumiya nodded, her fingers moving deftly over the strings as a soft, melancholic melody filled the cabin. Her voice followed, light and filled with emotion:

“Why do we have to say goodbye,

When my destiny is to make you mine?

I have lost the day we met,

In my memory, and it’s hard

To say that I have to go...”

When she finished, Eiles clapped softly, her face alight with admiration. “That was beautiful. Did you write it yourself?”

“No,” Rumiya said, shaking her head. “My mother wrote it. She had a beautiful voice.”

“Had?” Eiles asked hesitantly. “Oh no... Did she—”

“No, no,” Rumiya interrupted quickly. “She just... left the city when I was about eight.”

Eiles let out a sigh of relief. “I see. So, who takes care of Soleil now?”

“The elders... and me,” Rumiya replied softly.

Eiles opened her mouth to ask another question, but Rumiya raised a hand to stop her. “I’m sorry, Eiles. I’m really tired. Do you mind if I take a nap?”

“Of course,” Eiles said, stepping back with an apologetic smile. “No more questions. Rest well.” Before leaving the cabin, she gently patted Rumiya’s head. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Rumiya murmured, her eyes fluttering shut.

Chapter 3

How would you describe fear?

Some say fear is like a sticky residue clinging to your skin, an invisible weight that lingers long after the moment passes. Others describe it as an icy chill, so deep it seeps into your bones and renders your body immobile.

No matter how it’s described, fear has one universal truth—it’s a raw, suffocating force that takes hold and refuses to let go.

Harabi rarely remembered her dreams. When she woke, they were always fragmented, like scattered leaves on a windblown path—untraceable and fleeting. Most days, she could dismiss the hollow emptiness that followed, the strange tears she couldn’t explain, or the nameless fear that would settle in her chest like a heavy stone.

But today was different.

She woke in a cold sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if she had just surfaced from drowning. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, erratic and deafening. A cold, suffocating weight had lodged itself in her ribs, spreading out like frost encasing her lungs.

Usually, she could calm herself with slow, deep breaths, but not this time. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and an eerie ringing filled her ears. Just beneath that sound, faint whispers seemed to echo, their source indiscernible.

Her vision blurred, the dim room around her melting into swirls of shadow. When she tried to focus, her head spun, and a sickening nausea rolled through her. Trembling fingers pressed against her temples in a futile attempt to steady herself, but her thoughts were scattered, untethered.

And then the pain came.

A sudden, searing jolt coursed through her body, sharp as lightning and twice as unforgiving. Her chest felt as though it were aflame, yet her limbs were icy and heavy, like anchors pulling her down.

Her voice caught in her throat. She tried to scream, to cry out for help, but all that escaped was a strained wheeze. Harabi’s gaze drifted upward, fixing on the ceiling above her, but her vision swam. Her body refused to respond, her muscles frozen in place.

Then came the unmistakable sensation that she wasn’t alone.

Someone—or something—was watching her.

A chill crawled down her spine, and her heart seemed to stop entirely. She wanted to turn her head, to confirm or dispel her fear, but the effort was impossible.

“Harabi!”

The sound of her name shattered the silence like a beacon of light piercing a dark abyss. Suddenly, she could move. Her limbs twitched, her lungs expanded, and the suffocating pressure in her chest vanished as quickly as it had come.

Blinking through the haze, she turned her head and saw wide, worried brown eyes staring back at her. Tatsuki’s face was pale, her usual composure replaced by frantic concern.

“Harabi, can you hear me? What’s wrong?” Tatsuki’s voice trembled, though she tried to steady it. She thrust a glass of water into Harabi’s shaking hands.

“W...water,” Harabi croaked, her voice barely a whisper.

Tatsuki guided the glass to her lips, her hand steady despite the panic visible in her eyes. The cold water slid down Harabi’s throat, soothing the dryness that had made breathing so unbearable.

“What happened?” Tatsuki asked again, her tone softer now.

Harabi closed her eyes, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She took a moment to focus on her breathing before answering, her voice fragile. “I don’t know... It felt like a nightmare, but it was different. So much worse.”

Tatsuki’s brows furrowed, her concern deepening. “Different how?”

Harabi hesitated, searching for the right words. “It felt like... I was drowning in a bottomless ocean, and someone was holding me down, refusing to let me surface.”

Tatsuki’s expression darkened. Without a word, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around Harabi and holding her tightly.

“And now?” Tatsuki asked after a moment.

“I’m... cold and hot at the same time. My body feels strange. It’s hard to describe.” Harabi shivered against her friend’s embrace.

“You need to see a doctor,” Tatsuki said firmly, pulling back to look Harabi in the eyes.

“No, I’m fine,” Harabi protested weakly. “It’s late... I just need to sit for a while.”

“Harabi,” Tatsuki’s tone left no room for argument, “this isn’t normal. There are doctors on this train specifically for emergencies like this. I’ve already called one.”

Harabi opened her mouth to protest again but stopped. The exhaustion in her bones weighed her down, making resistance futile.

The doctor arrived moments later, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes that missed nothing. He approached Harabi with a calm, measured demeanor.

“Miss Kurosaki,” he began, glancing at a clipboard. “Your heart rate is elevated, and your reaction time is unusually slow. Can you tell me what happened?”

“It was just a nightmare,” Harabi mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Nightmares don’t typically cause such severe symptoms. What did you dream about?”

“I... don’t remember,” Harabi admitted, her voice barely audible.

“What did you feel, then?”

“Fear,” she answered after a long pause. “Just... fear. But when I woke up, I couldn’t breathe. My chest hurt, and I couldn’t move.”

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. “Were you aware of your surroundings?”

“It didn’t feel like I was asleep at all. It started suddenly and... just disappeared. But it left me terrified.”

The doctor exchanged a look with Tatsuki. “Can I speak with you outside for a moment?”

In the corridor, the doctor’s expression softened.

“She experienced a panic attack during sleep,” he explained. “These episodes are often mistaken for nightmares, but the physical symptoms are distinct. Has she ever experienced anything like this before?”

Tatsuki frowned. “She doesn’t sleep well at night. Could that have triggered it?”

“Possibly. Sleep deprivation can increase the frequency of panic attacks. But based on her symptoms, this may be linked to past trauma.”

“Trauma?” Tatsuki’s voice sharpened.

The doctor nodded. “Be patient with her. Surround her with care and support. That’s the first step. I also recommend seeking therapy—professional help can make a significant difference.”

Tatsuki’s expression hardened. “We’ve tried therapy before. It didn’t help.”

The doctor sighed. “Sometimes it takes time and the right approach. But she’ll need support, especially from someone she trusts.”

“Thank you,” Tatsuki said curtly. “I’ll take care of her.”

Harabi glanced at her friend. “What did he say?” she asked with a small smile.

Tatsuki sighed, crossing her arms. “Like all the other doctors. They suggest going to a psychotherapist and offer no real treatment.”

“All doctors are the same,” Harabi muttered, shaking her head. “Listen, I already have my own course of treatment. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I wouldn’t worry if you cared more about your health,” Tatsuki countered, her tone firm.

Harabi let out a soft laugh, glancing at the clock. “Tatsuki, it’s midnight. I think we’d better try to get some sleep.”

“You won’t fall asleep,” Tatsuki said knowingly. “I know you too well.”

Tatsuki slowly walked up to her friend and sat down beside her. Closing her eyes, she listened quietly to Harabi’s breathing before speaking again. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” Harabi asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Nightmares. Aren’t you scared?” Tatsuki pressed gently.

“I’m not scared,” Harabi replied after a pause. “Just…” She sighed, her words trailing off. “I don’t know…”

She glanced at her friend with a soft smile, then got up from the bed and wandered to the window. Pulling back the curtain, she gazed out at the darkened mountains. The train sped forward, making the peaks seem as though they were chasing after them, only to fall away into the distance. Only the endless night sky seemed to keep pace.

“Could you turn off the lights, please?” Harabi asked, her gaze still fixed on the window.

As the lights dimmed, Tatsuki joined her by the window. “There are so many stars tonight,” she said softly. “The nights in Nox are always beautiful. When the clouds vanish, you can see every kind of star. Our city sits high in the mountains, so it feels like we’re closer to them.”

She paused, her eyes gleaming with a wistful light. “Sometimes, I used to think I could reach out and touch them. But now… now we’re far from Nox, and the stars feel so distant.” She turned to Harabi. “But I want you to see it.”

“See what?” Harabi asked, a curious smile tugging at her lips.

Harabi pointed out the window. At that moment, a shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving a shimmering trail behind. Tatsuki gasped, her eyes lighting up with wonder.

“A shooting star,” Tatsuki murmured, her smile bright and childlike as she kept her gaze fixed on the heavens, hoping to see another.

“In Nox,” Harabi began softly, “we call them Tears of the Sky. They don’t fall often, but they’re not rare either.”

Tatsuki glanced at her friend. “How did you know there would be one tonight?”

Harabi hesitated, her voice quieter now. “August 30th… Today is August 30th.”

Tatsuki froze, realization dawning on her. “Wait… isn’t that…”

“Tomorrow,” Harabi whispered, her tone heavy, “it will be twelve years since my sister’s death.”

“Harabi…” Tatsuki said, her voice full of unspoken sorrow.

Harabi turned her gaze back to the stars. “There’s a legend in Nox…”

Once upon a time, a child was born into the world—a stillborn child. The mother, unable to accept the death of her firstborn, prayed to the Sun, begging for her child to be given a soul.

But the Sun refused.

Desperate, the mother turned to the Ocean, pleading for help, but the Ocean also denied her. Undeterred, she sought the Spirit of the Forests, the Protector of the Mountains, and countless other sacred beings. Each gave her the same answer: no.

The day slipped away unnoticed as the woman’s search for help consumed her. She cradled her lifeless child in her arms, her hope slowly unraveling. As the sun set and the world fell into slumber, the woman found herself standing on the edge of a cliff. She lifted her eyes to the sky.

The Moon had risen.

In those days, there were no stars—only the Moon, a solitary watcher in the night. It surveyed the sleeping world, its familiar landscape of shadowed forests and howling wolves below. Yet, something caught its attention: a lone woman standing on the cliff, clutching a bundle.

The Moon hesitated. People in such positions often ignored It, leaping into the abyss without a word. Yet this woman surprised It. She spoke.

“Please,” the woman said, her voice trembling. “Mighty Moon, you are my last hope. I beg you, save my child.”

She knelt and unwrapped the bundle, revealing the lifeless form of her child.

“I’ve asked everyone else,” she sobbed. “The Sun, the Ocean, the spirits—they all turned me away. But you... Please, I’ll do anything. Just give my child a soul. I cannot live without her.”

The Moon gazed down at the woman and her stillborn child. It spoke at last, its voice distant and calm.

“What happened to your child?”

“I gave birth to her lifeless,” the woman replied, tears streaking her face. “I failed to protect her.”

“And if I refuse?” the Moon asked.

“Then I’ll die too,” the woman answered. Her voice broke as she continued. “I have no one left. My parents are gone, my friends abandoned me, and my husband ran away, leaving me with this child. She was all I had left to live for. I don’t want to lose her. Please, Mighty Moon, I beg you.”

Her knees buckled, and she clutched her child tightly, her tears falling in torrents as she cried out in despair. The Moon observed her in silence before finally speaking.

“I will help you,” It said, “but only on one condition. Your child will live as an ordinary person—healthy, happy, and free of trouble. But...”

“Anything!” the woman cried, hope rekindling in her eyes. “I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Your soul,” the Moon replied, “and her soul, too, when the time comes.”

The woman’s breath hitched. “What do you mean?”

“When your life ends, your soul will stay with me in the sky,” the Moon explained. “And when your child’s time comes, her soul and her family’s will follow.”

The woman hesitated, trembling. “After death, you will take my soul?”

“Yes,” the Moon said solemnly. “But I promise your child will live a good life.”

Tears streamed down the woman’s face. “Yes,” she whispered. “I agree. Just please, save my child.”

At her words, the lifeless child stirred. A tiny cry broke the silence, and the woman wept anew, clutching her daughter close in joy and gratitude. She bowed deeply, thanking the Moon over and over.

From that day on, the woman and her daughter lived happily, untouched by misfortune. The girl grew up, married, and started her own family, while her mother lived long enough to see her grandchildren. When the woman passed away, a star appeared in the sky for the first time.

The girl believed the star was her mother, watching over her.

The Moon, now accompanied by the light of stars, made a new rule: every soul it claimed would form a star in the night sky. And when a person’s life came to an end, their star would fall, reborn as a new life on Earth.

So, whenever a shooting star streaks across the heavens, it is said that a life has ended, and another has begun.

Tatsuki smiled softly. “What a beautiful legend.”

Harabi nodded, her gaze distant. “My mother used to tell me that when someone you love dies, they don’t truly leave. Every year, on the day of their passing, they send a sign, drifting across the sky.”

Tatsuki glanced at her friend. “So... you think that star—?”

Harabi’s voice was quiet but steady. “I believe it’s Meruka. She’s giving us a sign.”