The moon was high, spilling cold silver over the earth. Inside the carriage, the only sound was the creak of wood and the muffled thud of hooves on ground. Izumi looked out of the window, back straight, shoulders still — his usual impenetrable calm surrounding him like a second skin.
But Miharu saw it. The tension. The silence that was not silence. He was still furious.
She shifted awkwardly in her seat, watching him from the corner of her eye.
"Hey… Izumi?"
He didn't look at her. "Mhm, Kobaya—"
"Call me Miharu."
This time he turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge her. "What's wrong then, Miharu?"
She bit her lip. The words fought her, but eventually, she blurted it out.
"I'm sorry."
Izumi blinked once, eyes still unreadable. ".For what?"
"You seriously forgot?" she asked, half-exasperated, half-stunned.
A pause. Then he faced out the window again, voice barely above a whisper. "Oh… that whole Virasat thing."
He shrugged slightly. "It's okay. I just… lashed out for no reason."
Miharu blinked, then scowled. "You're really calm to the point it pisses me off, asshole."
"Hey, wait wh—"
"How far are we from Raethelia? A day or two?"
A deafening silence hit the room, "A month. Not counting stops."
"A month?!?" Miharu's eyes nearly popped out. "W-what?! No, no. I'm not going anymore. I figured this was some sort of overnight thing—"
"Nope. You already committed to going. Not my problem you're terrible at maps."
"I should've slit your throat off when I had the chance."
"Wouldn't work."
The carriage lurched to a stop. They both sat up straight. Through the stillness outside, they could hear slow, shuffling footsteps on gravel.
Izumi leaned forward and looked out the window. A man — or something that looked like one — staggered down the road. Rags for clothing. Bare feet. His face hung slack, his eyes milky white and expressionless.
"Wait… is he drunk, or som—" Miharu began.
Izumi raised a hand, serene. "Hell's Cloak."
Yin coiled around him in a ghostly embrace, and the man outside burst into fire in an instant — no warning, no hesitation.
Miharu threw himself forward and grabbed Izumi's wrist, eyes wide. "What the hell are you doing?! That's a person!"
" Nope. That's a Ren," Izumi said, coldly, not even flinching.
"A what?"
"A weapon that turns human when its Sin-bearer dies. Usually soulless. Violent. Drawn to people marked with sin like myself."
The figure burning on the ground dropped to its knees, screamed once — a scream too piercing and moist to be human — and dissolved into ash.
Miharu stared in horror. "That… that thing was human once?"
Izumi's eyes darkened. "No. Not really. Just the leftover will of a weapon. It forgets what it was the moment it takes form. Think of it like… a ghost that doesn't know it's dead."
".That's the creepiest thing you've ever said."
"Give it a week. The road gets worse."
Miharu flopped back into the seat, frowning. ".I really should've stayed in Yamato."
"Too late for that too."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Miharu sat up, remembering something. ".Hey. Back then. When we fought Nymrathis. He stabbed you in your soul conduit, didn't he?"
Izumi replied, voice still flat "Mhm, you asked it before too."
"You didn't even scream. Or cry. You just got back up and kept going. That was where your Soul Conduit is, right?"
He slowly turned his head. "Yeah."
".That's insane," Miharu said, actually surprised. "You just… took it?"
Izumi leaned back, arms crossed, voice still even. "I was eight when someone first tried to break my Soul Conduit. My father wanted to see if I was strong enough to live through it."
Miharu's jaw dropped. "What?! That's—are you kidding me?!"
Izumi didn't answer. His silence was confirmation enough.
"And you didn't cry?"
"I don't cry," Izumi said matter-of-factly. "Crying doesn't do anything."
Miharu sat in stunned silence, her earlier irritation silently evaporating.
".Still. That's kind of amazing."
Izumi blinked once. ".Thanks."
"Hey," she said, her voice softening for a second, ".about that Virasat thing—"
Izumi's tone dropped cold. "I don't go by Virasat."
The mood shifted instantly. Miharu froze.
".Right. Sorry."
The wind whispered quietly.
Inside the carriage, Miharu stared at him blankly, as she thought to herself.
".Why the hell is he always so damn complicated?".
And the road to Raethelia continued — dark, cold, and unforgiving.