The sun began to set over Brooklyn, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. From the roof of the Brooklyn House, the city seemed distant, almost irrelevant, as Carter Kane analyzed an ancient papyrus on the stone table. He moved his fingers over the hieroglyphs with precision, his sharp eyes absorbing every detail.
Ikki stood beside him, half-reclined in a chair, looking bored.
Carter sighed as he finished jotting something down in the notebook beside him.
"Are you going to keep staring at me like I'm some kind of zoo animal, or are you going to tell me what you're thinking?"
Ikki shrugged.
"I'm waiting for you to admit you have no idea what this papyrus means."
Carter snorted.
"I know exactly what it means."
Ikki raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Are you sure? Because you've been sitting there for ten minutes just staring and sighing dramatically."
Carter shot him an irritated look before slamming the notebook shut.
"Fine. Maybe I was thinking about something else..."
Ikki remained silent, waiting. And, of course, Carter eventually gave in.
He dropped the papyrus and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
"You really are leaving."
Ikki didn't seem surprised.
"That's not news to anyone."
"Yeah, I know. But now that it's close..." Carter looked away towards the horizon. "It seems more real..."
Ikki didn't answer immediately. He just watched the sunset-tinged clouds, as if trying to absorb the moment.
Carter drummed his fingers on the table.
"Zia…"
Ikki sighed.
"I knew this was coming."
Carter frowned at him.
"How?"
Ikki gave a half-smile.
"Carter, you have the emotional subtlety of a hippopotamus."
Carter let out a short laugh, shaking his head.
"And you have the tact of a sphinx."
He knew Zia wouldn't openly show anything, but Ikki's absence would affect her. She had allowed herself to lower her guard with him in a way she never had with anyone else.
And Sadie… well, Sadie had always been hard to read. But Carter wasn't stupid. He saw the looks, the small moments of hesitation when Ikki's name came up.
His sister never said anything, never admitted anything. And Carter never asked.
But now, with Ikki leaving, he wondered what would happen to her too.
Being near Ikki, he thought about it, and consequently couldn't focus on what he was reading….
Carter sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"You know she cares about you, right?"
Ikki turned to face him, his expression unreadable.
"I know…"
Carter nodded slowly, pressing his fingers against the edge of the table.
"I… cared about her too."
The confession came out before he could reconsider, but he didn't regret it. He wasn't saying it out of jealousy or resentment. He just wanted Ikki to understand.
"I know…" Ikki said, without mockery or pity. Just a simple acknowledgment, he already knew about Carter's feelings for Zia, and he blamed himself for this 'change'…
Carter let out a low chuckle.
"And you know what's funny? I thought I'd never get over it. That there would always be this… shadow between us…"
Ikki remained quiet, listening.
"But I did get over it," Carter continued. "And when I realized that, it wasn't because she didn't mean anything to me. It was because I understood that what truly mattered was her happiness."
Ikki looked away.
"You're a better man than I am, Carter…"
Carter let out a short laugh.
"I doubt it. But… I learned to accept."
The silence stretched between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Just laden with things that didn't need to be said.
Carter sighed.
"Just promise me one thing…"
Ikki looked at him, waiting.
"Take care of her."
Ikki was silent for a moment before nodding.
"I promise."
Carter relaxed a little, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Good. Because if you mess this up, I swear I'll come back from the dead to curse you…"
Ikki joked.
"Oh, sure. The great Carter Kane casting spells from beyond the grave. Should I be worried?"
Carter rolled his eyes, but a small smile appeared on his face.
"Maybe."
They stayed there for a few more minutes, watching the sky darken.
Later, after Carter returned to his room, Ikki walked alone through the streets, hands in his pockets, his mind restless.
The night's chill nipped at his skin, but he barely felt it. Compared to the turmoil of thoughts in his head, the cold breeze was insignificant.
He told Carter he had something important to do.
The problem was, he didn't know exactly what it was.
Without a destination in mind, he decided to visit the Other Side, his figure vanishing and reappearing in a mirror dimension added as a hidden layer to the world.
He walked alone.
The Other Side stretched before him like an endless sea of crystalline towers, cut by shadows and bathed in a spectral blue light. The wind howled between the sharp structures, carrying distant echoes, whispers of lost memories. The sky was heavy, covered in dense, dark clouds, as if the universe itself were holding its breath.
He took a step forward and the ground lit up beneath his feet. Small points of light ignited where he stepped, as if the Other Side were reacting to his presence. It was no surprise. This place existed because he had created it.
Ikki raised his eyes to the horizon. In the center of that labyrinth of towers, a structure rose higher than all the others, a solitary pillar that seemed to defy the heavens.
At the top, a motionless figure watched everything, like an eternal guardian.
Leaving aside the 'Familiar' he had created to manage the Other Side. With a snap of his fingers, a white gate appeared before him, floating in the air as if it had always been there. Its arch glowed softly, a stark contrast to the cold, metallic world around it.
Ikki took a deep breath and walked through.
The air changed.
The heavy, stormy sky of the Other Side gave way to a deep, endless blue. The metallic smell of the mist disappeared, replaced by the soft scent of damp earth and wildflowers. The wind no longer howled gloomily between crystalline towers—instead, it blew light and warm, swaying the tall grass like gentle waves in a green ocean.
The laughter of children echoed across the open field.
Julius Kane was sitting in the grass, his back against a sturdy tree with golden leaves, as if he belonged to a world where autumn and spring existed at the same time. He held his wife's hand, their fingers intertwined so naturally that it seemed they had never been apart. Ruby Kane leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she listened to her husband's voice.
They were telling stories.
Julius gestured with his free hand, drawing pictures in the air as he spoke. The words transformed into golden sparks, which took on fleeting shapes—a boat sailing down the Nile, a star shining in the sky, a young Sadie trying to steal a cookie without being caught.
Ruby chuckled softly.
"You exaggerate," she said, though her smile said otherwise.
"Exaggerate?" Julius placed a hand on his chest, feigning indignation. "My dear, all these events were documented by respectable historians."
"Uh-huh…" Ruby rolled her eyes, patting his leg.
Further ahead, two figures ran across the hill, their voices full of youthful energy.
Sadie and Carter.
But not as Ikki knew them.
They were younger, perhaps eight and ten years old. Sadie wore a light blue dress and ran barefoot through the grass, holding the string of a red kite that danced in the sky. Carter, in shorts and a loose shirt, ran beside her, holding his own kite, blue and gold, trying to make it rise with the wind.
"You're doing it wrong!" Sadie shouted, looking back.
"I'm doing it exactly like you!" Carter retorted.
"Then why is yours falling?"
"Because the wind is against me!"
Sadie stopped and put her hands on her hips, looking at her brother with an expression that clearly said are you serious? Then, without warning, she pulled the string of her own kite and ran towards him, circling around him.
"What are you doing?" Carter tried to break free, but it was too late.
Sadie gave a final tug and the string of her kite tangled with his, trapping them together in the air.
Carter's eyes widened.
"Oh, no…"
The two kites twirled and, suddenly, were launched upwards by the wind, rising in perfect synchrony.
Sadie gave a triumphant smile.
"Now neither of them falls."
Carter looked up, then at his sister, and snorted.
"That doesn't even make sense."
But a small smile formed on his face nonetheless.
Ikki stood at the entrance, watching everything.
He knew this wasn't the past. It wasn't a trick of the mind.
It was something in between.
The memory of a life they could never live this way.
The wind blew gently and Julius looked up, meeting Ikki's eyes.
He didn't seem surprised. Nor confused. He just smiled, as if he had expected to see him there.
Ikki hesitated for a moment, then just nodded.
Julius didn't say anything. He simply turned his attention back to Ruby, intertwining his fingers with hers as if they would never let go.
Ikki stayed there for a few more seconds.
Then, without making a sound, he turned and walked back through the white gate.
The blue sky dissolved into heavy clouds, the warmth disappeared, and the spectral cold returned to envelop his skin.
The gate vanished behind him.
Before him, the dark corridor stretched out, full of doors waiting to be opened.
But Ikki was no longer interested.
He sighed and looked wistfully at the world he had created before appearing on the streets of Brooklyn as if he had never left in the first place.
The Brooklyn night air seemed denser when Ikki reappeared on the sidewalk. The orange glow of the streetlights cast jagged shadows on the cracked asphalt, and the distant murmur of the city mixed with the rustling of leaves blown by the wind. The familiar smell of smoke, motor oil, and hot asphalt brought him back to reality. But something inside him was still trapped in the Other Side.
He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and began to wander aimlessly, his footsteps muffled by the rhythm of a distant club's beat.
Ikki passed through a narrow alley and plunged into darkness for a moment before emerging on the other side, where a group of boys were playing dice on the curb. One of them glanced at him, but Ikki moved on without exchanging a word.
Then he stopped.
Ahead of him, a small, cozy coffee shop was still open, the yellow light illuminating the faded sign above the door. Without thinking much, he pushed the entrance, and a bell tinkled softly.
The smell of coffee and cinnamon enveloped him. A few people occupied the tables—a couple talking in whispers, a student typing frantically on a laptop, and an elderly gentleman leafing through a newspaper as if time was in no hurry for him.
Ikki walked up to the counter.
The barista, a young woman with curly hair tied in a loose bun, looked at him with a practiced smile.
"The usual?"
Ikki blinked, slightly surprised.
He didn't know he *had* a "usual."
But, for some reason, he nodded.
She prepared the drink with automatic movements, as if she had known the order for a long time. When she handed him the cup, he noticed something scribbled on the cardboard side:
"You seem lost. Are you okay?"
Ikki gripped the cup between his fingers, feeling the warmth of the coffee radiate through the thin layer of cardboard. The steam rose in fragile spirals, disappearing into the air like the echoes of a memory he tried, but couldn't erase.
He slumped into one of the seats by the window, watching the city unfold outside the glass. Cars passed in slow cadence, headlights blinking between the raindrops that were beginning to accumulate on the asphalt. People walked hurriedly, coats pulled up to their chins, lives moving on without ever knowing the silent change he had imposed on the world.
It was strange. He hadn't done anything wrong. No moral line had been crossed. No curse cast, no innocent soul sacrificed. But the truth, raw and relentless, was that Ikki had changed the lives of countless people because of his 'too logical' act. And now, the weight of that grew inside him like a tight knot in his chest.
He just wanted his mother back.
Was that so wrong?
Ikki didn't care about the consequences when he started this journey. He didn't care who he had to face. He was willing to burn everything, to cross any barrier, if it meant he could see her again.
But now… now that everything was done, something inside him ached in a way it shouldn't.
Because the world hadn't simply bent to his will and moved on. He had twisted it, molded it, altered it. And every decision, every step, had left its mark on others, on his friends, on strangers, on everything….
He brought the cup to his lips, but the coffee had already gone cold.
The rain outside was getting heavier, drops drumming against the glass. The drops ran in irregular patterns, blurring the city lights into distorted reflections.
Just like him.
He was a blur between right and wrong. Between the boy who just wanted his mother back and the warrior who had meddled with the impossible to achieve it. Between the one who believed he had done what was necessary and the one who, deep down, wondered if he should have accepted his pain and moved on, his kind nature was the biggest motivator of his suffering.
Ikki closed his eyes, pressing his fingers against his temples. There were no easy answers. Maybe there never would be.
But, as he held that cup with the question scribbled on the side, he realized he didn't know the answer.
Was he okay?
And if he wasn't… could he handle it?
Ikki let out a long, silent sigh, feeling the weight of the cold coffee in his hands. What he had done, he had done. There was no changing it. Or rather… there was. But he didn't want to.
It wasn't regret that tormented him. Not exactly. It was just the inevitable collision between his nature and his actions. He always tried to do the right thing, to protect those around him, but this time… he chose himself. He chose what he wanted, regardless of the consequences.
Of course, there were a few other times he chose to take some selfish action, but not on this scale and certainly not in this way.
And the worst part? He didn't regret it.
He turned the cup between his fingers one last time before leaving it on the table. His expression was neutral, controlled. The tight knot in his chest was still there, but he refused to let it define who he was. If he spent the rest of his life torturing himself for what he did, it wouldn't change anything.
The past couldn't be undone. And, for the first time, he didn't want to undo it.
With a firm movement, Ikki stood up, leaving a few dollars on the table. The ambient noise of the coffee shop remained the same, low conversations, the clinking of cups, the rustling of newspaper pages. Outside, the rain was getting heavier, reflecting the city lights in blurred patterns.
He walked through the door without looking back.
The cold night air enveloped him immediately, cutting off any vestiges of hesitation that might have remained. He couldn't change what he did, but he could decide what he would do from here on out.
And he would do his best.
Because, in the end, moving on was the only choice that really mattered.