Fourteen years, Rui fought for the only home he had. Fourteen years, he endured the whispers, the fear, the pain of a power that lets him read the memories of everything he touches—but never his own past. Then the Vermunt Society came for the ledgers, and the man who raised him sold him out without a second thought. Now Rui lies bleeding on a cold hill, the orphanage burning behind him, and the children he swore to protect scattered to the wind. But a blade doesn't choose where it's picked up—on
The Picked-Up Blade Eventually Finds Its Place - Snow Falls on the City of Ash Blades — A Reunion with the One Who Abandoned Them
The sea wind rattled the steel frames of the warehouse district.
Morning came early in the Bay Side harbor area, as always. The groan of gantry cranes, the sparks of welding, the exhaust of heavy trucks. All of it blended together to form this city's mornings.
Haiya Rui was alone in a small warehouse behind the Gant Logistics office, sharpening a knife.
The blade slid across the whetstone. Shh, shh, shh. Only the rhythmic sound echoed through the dim warehouse.
The knife was an "Unnamed" blade he'd received from Kamiya Gen. It held no special power. But to Rui, it was the first "weapon of his own" he'd ever held in this city.
"...Still dull."
Rui held the blade up to the light. His gray eyes glinted coldly.
Two weeks had passed since he joined the organization.
He was gradually getting used to the rhythm of life here. Mornings were spent training his body in the drill hall, afternoons were either missions or sparring with Aoi. At night, he returned to his small apartment and slept alone.
(Not bad.)
(It shouldn't be bad...)
Rui sheathed the knife.
Just then, the warehouse's iron door swung open with a clatter.
"So you're here again."
He turned to find Aoi standing there. His curly, near-blond brown hair was sticking up from bedhead as usual. His amber eyes held a cold light that betrayed no emotion. A tablet in his right hand, a paper cup of coffee in his left. As always, he looked utterly out of place in the harbor district morning.
"None of your damn business."
"It is my business. Your morning behavioral patterns are flagged under organizational surveillance."
"Hah? Surveillance?"
Rui's voice dropped.
"Of course. What organization lets a brat they picked up two weeks ago run around unsupervised?"
"You're the brat here. You're younger than me."
"Age and seniority in the organization are different things. In this world, you're a newborn infant."
"Yeah, sure. So what do you want with this infant?"
Aoi turned the tablet toward Rui. The screen displayed the details of today's mission.
"Patrol of the Bay Side Third Warehouse Block this afternoon. Vermunt Society's movements have been strangely quiet these past few days. There's a chance they're planning something."
"The quiet bothers you that much?"
"Quiet is the prelude to a storm. You should be more on your guard."
"I am. More than you think."
"Is that so. Then do your best to survive with that knife you've been sharpening."
With that, Aoi turned and left.
Rui watched his retreating back and clicked his tongue.
"...Still a thoroughly unpleasant bastard."
But strangely, his heart felt lighter.
Arguing with Aoi was, for Rui, the only time he could truly let his guard down and breathe.
(He probably knows that too, and does it on purpose.)
Rui left the warehouse.
The morning light stung his eyes.
---
The afternoon patrol ended without incident.
The Third Warehouse Block was as quiet as ever. The place that teemed with illegal dealings at night was just another warehouse district by day.
Rui was on his way back to headquarters after finishing his patrol.
"Oh, Rui."
He turned at the voice.
Hayase Nagi came trotting toward him. Her shoulder-length black hair streamed in the wind. A red ribbon swayed. Her large dark eyes looked straight at Rui.
"What."
"Don't 'what' me. How was the patrol?"
"Nothing. Nothing happened."
"I see. ...Um, do you have time later today?"
Nagi's voice grew slightly quieter.
Rui looked at her face.
(This girl's been talking to me a lot lately.)
"It's not like I've got plans."
"Then hang out with me for a bit. I've got something to talk about — a new mission."
"If it's about a mission, ask Aoi."
"Aoi always mixes in sarcasm, so it's hard to talk to him."
"And you think I don't mix in sarcasm?"
"You're, well... at least better than Aoi."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It is a compliment. ...So, are you coming or not?"
Nagi looked up at Rui through her lashes.
Rui sighed.
"...If it's just a meal."
"Huh?"
"You said you've got something to talk about. I'll listen while we eat."
Nagi's face lit up.
"Really? Then how about the Bay Side Diner? I've been in the mood for a seafood bowl."
"Yeah, fine."
"Yay. Let's go, then!"
Nagi walked off happily.
Rui watched her back and let out a small breath.
(Well, this isn't so bad once in a while.)
---
The Bay Side Diner was a twenty-four-hour casual eatery.
It was the place that fed the men working in the harbor district, and its seafood bowls were famous. The owner, Yamada, was a man of few words but skilled hands.
Rui and Nagi sat side by side at the counter.
"Two seafood bowls."
"Got it."
Yamada began cooking with practiced efficiency.
"So, what's this about a mission?"
Rui asked while drinking water.
"Yeah. Actually, starting next week, patrol missions in the Old Town are supposed to increase. They say Vermunt Society's activity has been picking up there."
"Old Town, huh."
"Have you ever been to the Old Town?"
"No, not yet."
"Me neither, not much. But do you know Nocturne Cafe? It's an information exchange spot for ability users, and apparently there's a really well-informed informant there."
"An informant?"
"His name is Kuroda. He's a former ability user, and now he operates from a neutral standpoint, handling information between organizations."
Rui repeated the name in his mind.
Kuroda.
(I've heard it before. Aoi mentioned it once.)
"...You look pale. Are you okay?"
Nagi peered at Rui's face with concern.
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"You sure? Okay then."
The seafood bowls were placed before them.
Fresh sashimi was arranged beautifully over the rice.
"Thanks for the food!"
Nagi happily picked up her chopsticks.
Rui silently began eating as well.
"Delicious... As expected, the seafood bowl here is the best."
"Yeah."
"Don't you have anything more to say?"
"It's good."
"...That's it?"
"That's enough, isn't it?"
Nagi pouted a little.
"Honestly. You really are curt."
"Sorry about that."
"...I'm not mad, you know."
Nagi said that and resumed eating her seafood bowl.
Rui glanced at her profile.
(She really does look happy when she's eating.)
Just then, their eyes met.
Nagi hurriedly looked away.
Her cheeks were just slightly red.
Rui looked away too.
(What was that just now?)
An odd silence fell between them.
"...Hey, Rui."
"What."
"Have you gotten used to the organization lately?"
"More or less."
"I see. ...Good. You were so prickly at first."
"I'm still prickly."
"No. I feel like you've softened, just a little."
Nagi smiled faintly.
Rui saw that smile and tried to say something.
But the words wouldn't come.
(Softened, huh.)
(I can't tell myself.)
"Thanks for the meal."
Nagi set down her chopsticks.
"...Thanks for the meal."
Rui set down his chopsticks too.
"Alright, I'm heading back to headquarters. I need to check the mission details."
"Yeah."
"...Thanks for today. For coming with me."
"Whatever."
Nagi smiled again and left the diner.
Rui stayed at the counter, drinking water.
(That Nagi's been talking to me a lot lately.)
(Well, it doesn't feel bad.)
---
Dusk was approaching.
On his way back from his mission, Rui headed toward the Old Town.
(Nocturne Cafe, huh.)
The informant Nagi had mentioned. Kuroda.
Rui had wanted to ask someone about his own past.
No — he had to ask.
(My memories from before I was eight.)
(What happened at the Sunlit House?)
(Why did Sakakibara Dozo cast me aside?)
Rui walked through the narrow alleys of the Old Town.
A maze-like streetscape lined with merchant houses dating back to the Edo period. Here and there, tourists could be seen.
Nocturne Cafe was tucked quietly deep in an alley.
An old wooden building. A moon symbol on the sign.
Rui opened the door.
Jingle jingle, went the bell.
The interior was dim and quiet.
Behind the counter stood a single man.
Kuroda.
He looked to be in his late forties. Thin, with white mixed into his hair. Narrow eyes that revealed nothing of what he was thinking. A former ability user. Now a neutral informant handling information between organizations.
"Welcome."
Kuroda said quietly.
"...One coffee."
"Certainly."
Kuroda began brewing coffee with practiced movements.
Rui sat at the counter.
There were no other customers.
"...You're Haiya Rui of Gant Nest, aren't you."
Kuroda spoke with his back still turned.
"You know me?"
"I'm an informant. I've known about you for some time. The Echo ability user. The survivor of the Sunlit House."
Rui's body tensed slightly.
"...How much do you know?"
"How much, you ask — what I know is only rumors and fragments. Regarding your past, there's more I don't know than you do yourself."
Kuroda set the coffee down.
Steam curled upward.
"...There's something I want to ask you."
"Go ahead. However, information requires appropriate compensation."
"If it's money, I have some."
"Money won't be necessary. I'm interested in your information as well. ...What you want to ask about is the Sunlit House, isn't it?"
"...Yeah."
Rui took a sip of coffee.
Bitter.
"The Sunlit House is still in operation."
"...What did you say?"
Rui's voice dropped.
"Even after you were cast aside, Sakakibara Dozo continues to run the orphanage. On the surface, it's a charitable institution. But behind the scenes, he's still brokering children to criminal organizations."
"...That man, still doing that."
Rui's fist creaked.
"Yes. And worse still — recently, the number of children being brokered has been increasing."
"Why?"
"It may be connected to Vermunt Society's movements. The Society advocates a policy of segregating ability users. They appear to be conducting regular investigations into whether any of the orphanage children are ability users."
"...That bastard, he's selling children to the Society?"
"The probability is high. And there's one more thing."
Kuroda looked Rui straight in the eyes.
"Among the children who were brokered, there may be a key to your memories."
"...A key to my memories?"
"You've lost your memories from before you were eight. That's connected to your ability — Echo. Echo is the power to read the memories of things you touch. When you touched your own past, you read those memories. But those memories were so painful for you that your mind sealed them away."
"...Sealed them?"
"Yes. The blank in your memory was created by your own ability. And the key to unlocking those memories lies in 'something' you touched. Most likely, the other children who were at the Sunlit House. They know your past."
That was the moment.
—Throb.
A sharp pain shot through the back of his head.
"...Gh!"
Echo went out of control.
His vision warped.
The ruins of the Sunlit House.
A crumbling two-story wooden building.
Sakakibara Dozo's face.
A thin man with graying hair.
On the surface a philanthropist. Behind the scenes, a broker who funneled children to criminal organizations.
And the blank in his memories from before age eight.
A pure white, empty space.
"...Damn it."
Rui braced himself against the table.
Clatter.
The coffee cup toppled.
Dark liquid spread across the counter.
"...Don't force yourself to remember."
Kuroda said quietly.
"Sometimes memories can be protected by keeping the lid on. Your past will still hurt you. For now, it's better not to remember."
"...What do you know?"
Rui glared at Kuroda, still breathing raggedly.
"I don't know anything. I don't know your past. But as an informant, I can tell you one thing. Your past is more dangerous than you think. If you chase it, the people around you will be dragged in too."
"...Dragged in?"
"Yes. So for now, keep your distance. From your past, and from the people around you."
Rui fell silent.
The headache gradually receded.
"...Want me to brew you another coffee?"
"No, I'm fine. ...How much?"
"It's on the house. Today's information is my treat."
"...I owe you one."
"You'll pay me back someday. In the form of letting me see what I wan
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