Tsukia's POV

I gripped the hilt of my black sword, my knuckles white. Part of me-the part that had survived for years in the freezing silence of Jamana Mountain-screamed at me to run.

But the other part, the part that felt the heavy thrum of the "disaster" in my veins, stayed rooted to the spot.

Running is for the weak. I want to be strong.

The nine men in tactical gear ignored me, their eyes locked on the idiot in the bucket hat.

"Is the girl with him?" one of the men barked, leveling a glowing blue spear at my chest.

A surge of irritation, cold and sharp, rose in my throat. I didn't even know this stranger's name, yet I was being lumped into his mess.

I began to unsheathe my blade, the black veins on my wrist pulsing in anticipation of slaughter.

"I've got this, hehe," the man said, stepping casually in front of me. He cracked his knuckles, his back still turned to me.

"Sorry for dragging you into the crossfire, miss."

I stepped back, eyes narrowing. It wasn't my business. If he wanted to die playing hero, I'd let him. I sheathed my blade and turned to walk away. I needed to find food-I didn't care if his blood stained the grass.

"Watch out for his fire!" one of the soldiers screamed, his voice cracking with pure terror.

"Fire?" I whispered.

I froze. My curiosity is always my greatest enemy as it forced me to look back and my breath hitched.

Brilliant, wild crimson flames erupted from the man's palms, swirling like twin dragons. I had thought he was just a fast human, a leaf in the wind. I was wrong. He was a furnace.

"ATTACK!" the leader roared.

They charged, but the boy didn't flinch. He lunged forward, his fist trailing a comet-tail of destructive heat.

"Ignis Burst!" he shouted.

The scene turned into a hellscape instantly. The roar of flames drowned out the forest's silence. Trees ignited in flashes of orange, and the air turned into a shimmering wall of heat.

It was my first time seeing humans truly fight, and it was horrifyingly beautiful. I couldn't look away from the charred earth and the way bodies fell like ash.

"I didn't want to do that," the man shouted at a falling soldier, his voice genuinely pained. "But you just wouldn't stop following me!"

He turned, noticing me standing there. The fire in his hands died down into a gentle flicker.

"D-did I scare you?" he asked softly, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Why would I be scared of you?" I replied coldly, though my heart was hammering against my ribs.

I rolled my eyes at the burning forest, trying to hide the fact that my hands were shaking.

"You look terrified," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "And you're probably wondering about the fire." He held out his palms.

The dancing flames were mesmerizing, vibrant and warm, unlike the cold, suffocating pressure of my own power.

"I was born with this. It's my Soul Possession," he explained.

"I'm what they call a rare type... and a bit of a freak, I guess," he added.

"Nobody asked," I snapped, though something inside me tightened at the word.

A freak. I knew that word well.

"You're so cold," he smirked, his eyes dancing. "Want me to heat you up?"

I rolled my eyes again, but before I could retort, he snatched his hat off and gave a mock bow.

"Lori Shinji. Also known as the 'Fire Destructive'-though I think that name is a bit much." He chuckled.

For the first time, I saw his face clearly without the shadow of the brim. There was a brightness to him that almost hurt my eyes. He was... cute.

CRACK.

A massive burning branch from a cedar tree snapped above me. My senses, still dull from the shock of the fight, didn't react in time.

I looked up, seeing the wall of fire and wood descending. I braced for impact, expecting my "bad luck" to shatter the branch and leave me standing in the middle of a forest fire.

But instead of impact, I felt warmth. Sudden, overwhelming warmth.

Lori had leapt into the path of the branch. He caught the flaming wood with his bare hands, his own fire neutralizing the heat before it could burn me.

He threw the branch aside and looked at me, his face inches from mine, covered in soot but smiling wide.

"Told you," he whispered. "I'll let my actions prove you can trust me."

My eyes widened.

For the first time in seven years, someone had stepped between me and the world.

"U-uhm... Aile Tsukia," I didn't even realize I said it as we started running from the spreading forest fire.

Lori's smile broke into a grin that could've lit up the mountain. He grabbed my wrist-not like a captor, but firm, steady-and pulled me through the smoke.

As we left, the mountain road eventually bled into the outskirts of a small, sleepy town. To me, the flickering neon sign of a 24-hour convenience store looked like a beacon from another world.

I slowed down, eyes wide at the paved asphalt and humming electricity.

"Wait," I whispered, pulling back. My anxiety, usually a dull hum, was now a screaming siren. "There are... people in there."

Lori stopped and looked back, his expression softening as he realized I was staring at the store like it was a monster's lair.

"It's just a shop, Tsukia. They have snacks, drinks, and most importantly-bandages for that scrape on your knee."

"I don't need help from humans," I snapped, though my stomach betrayed me with an embarrassing growl.

"Well, the food is the help. Your stomach says so," Lori joked, gently nudging me toward the automatic doors.

As they hissed open, I jumped, nearly drawing my sword at the glass. The air inside was artificially cool and smelled of fried chicken and floor wax.

I walked through the aisles like a hunted animal, flinching every time the bell rang. A group of teenagers near the soda machine glanced at my soot-stained cloak and whispered.

"They're judging you. They think you're a freak. Strike them before they laugh."

My inner voice hissed.

I gripped my wrist. The black veins beneath my skin started to itch. My breathing hitched.

Then a warm weight landed on my head.

Lori had placed his bucket hat on me, pulling it low over my eyes.

"Ignore them," he said, his voice suddenly serious, protective. "You're with me. If they have something to say, they can say it to the guy who breathes fire."

I looked up at him from under the brim. The teenagers quickly looked away, intimidated by his stance.

For the first time in my life, the voice went quiet.

Not because I controlled it.

But because someone else was louder.

He bought two strawberry popsicles from the counter. Outside, under the humid night air, he handed me one.

"Here. Peace offering from the human race," he said with a wink.

I took a bite. Cold sweetness exploded across my tongue. I stared at the melting red ice, then at the boy walking beside me like he had nowhere to be in the world.

"Lori?" I asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you doing this? You don't even know if I'm... safe."

He stopped walking. The streetlight reflected in his eyes.

"I spent my whole life being told I was a walking disaster, Tsukia. I know what it looks like when someone's just trying to survive their own power. Besides..." he grinned.

"I think we'd make a pretty good team. Fire and... whatever it is you do."

I looked down, hiding my face under his hat. "I guess."

"Anyway... do you have a plan? A hometown to go back to?"

I looked at the road stretching ahead. "I don't even know where my hometown is," I murmured, a small brittle smile forming.

"I don't remember anything before I was nine. I just woke up one day... and I was alive."

Lori blinked. "What? Like amnesia?"

"Maybe. All I remember is a village that treated me like an abominable charm. They called doctors and scientists to study me like an animal because my power was wrong. I think the government is still watching me. There's a voice in my head, Lori... it tells me to hate everyone. To hate humans."

Lori's expression softened into something I hadn't seen before-pity, but not condescending. Like he was seeing a reflection of himself.

We walked in silence after that. The popsicle dulled the sting in my throat. But as the town lights faded and the forest thickened again, the air changed.

It smelled like charcoal and old grief.

Lori slowed.

He pointed toward a rusted, skeletal gate half-hidden by weeds.

"Actually," he said, his voice quieter now. "There's a reason I'm good at surviving disasters."

"I want to show you something," Lori said later.

We arrived at the gate. Beyond it stood a house eaten by fire. The smell of old smoke still clung to the charred wood.

"This was my home," Lori whispered.

We stepped inside the ruins, boots crunching on blackened floorboards.

"You shared your past with me... so I'll share mine."

He looked at his hands. "I killed them, Tsukia. My parents. I couldn't control the heat one night. I ran to my mother for help, but she backed away in horror. She called me a monster before the smoke took her. The neighbors think I did it on purpose."

By the end, his voice broke. A single tear cut through the soot on his face.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to comfort someone-I usually wanted to hurt them.

But my hand moved anyway, patting his messy hair.

"U-uhm... are you okay?"

"I'm seventeen," he muttered, wiping his eyes.

"And I'm still just a kid who's afraid of matches."

"I'm seventeen too," I said softly, staring at the burned floor.

"In a way, you're lucky. You have memories, even if they hurt. I'm just a ghost in a girl's body."

"I'll help you find out who you are," Lori said, reaching out to pat my head.

The warmth of his hand made my chest tighten.

"I'm always here for you, Tsukia. Even if we just met."

As the sun dipped below the trees, painting the sky in bruised purples, we left the old house.

I followed Lori toward his next destination-some basement he apparently lived in.

I suddenly realized I still had trust issues... and yet, deep in my bones, I felt Lori Shinji wasn't a threat.

We reached a hidden house by a rushing river. A campfire crackled in the yard.

"Hey, jerk! Get over here!" Lori shouted.

A girl with short, choppy blonde hair spun around the fire. She was about my height, with almond-shaped hazel eyes and a marshmallow stick in her hand.

For a split second, her face lit up at the sight of Lori-but it vanished the moment she saw me.

Her expression didn't just drop. It soured.

"LORI! EXPLAIN THIS!" she barked, pointing the sticky stick at me.

"WHO IS THIS GIRL?"

"Relax, Jasmia! She's a friend," Lori laughed, dodging her swing.

"Hmp!" the girl-Jasmia-pouted.

They looked like siblings bickering loudly. It was... cute.

"Introduce yourselves!" Lori said, pushing us toward each other.

I looked at her. My heart was racing. This was it. A real social interaction.

"H-hello. I'm Aile Tsukia."

"Hi! I'm Jasmia Valley. The person who has to keep this fire-breathing idiot alive," she said with a smile, offering her hand.

I stared at it.

A bond.

For the first time, the voice in my head went quiet.

My life was finally felt like it was starting.

Tsukia’s POV

The campfire hissed and spat, sending long flickering silhouettes crawling up the trunks around us. For the first time in years, the mountain’s usual cold didn’t seem to reach me.

It stopped at my skin instead of burrowing into my bones.

I perched on a split log, a stick balanced in my hand, a white sugar cube or what they called a “marshmallow” speared at the end.

Watching it blister and turn golden in the heat held me in a quiet trance.

“Don’t let it catch, Kia! Rotate it,” Jasmia teased, her laughter bright and curious.

The nickname felt strange in my mouth. Kia.

I nudged the marshmallow into my mouth. It was overwhelmingly sweet and cloying enough to make my teeth ache but somehow, it tasted like calm.

Maybe Lori had been right. Maybe not every human deserved the monsters I had imagined in my dreams.

“So…” Jasmia leaned forward, chin resting on her hand.

“Lori says you’re gifted, but your magic seems… different. What is it? Some kind of alien thing?”

My throat tightened. The sweetness in my mouth curdled into something heavier. I stared at my hands tucked inside my sleeves, as if I could hide them.

“I… I don’t really know,” I admitted.

“She’s right to be careful,” Lori said, his voice steady and low.

He prodded the embers with a stick. “I’ve felt it, Jasmia. It isn’t like our kind of potential. Ours feels like stepping into a river you can ride. Hers… it’s like staring into an abyss. Even the smallest move seems to bruise her body under the strain.”

Jasmia’s grin faltered. “Is it that dangerous?”

“I’m an abominable bad-luck charm,” I whispered before I could stop myself, the cruel words from my old village slipping out.

“When I use it… my surroundings get hurt. Or I do.”

The wood popped. For a moment, that sound was the only thing between us and a silence that could have swallowed the night.

Lori stood, breaking the tension.

“Enough gloom. Watch this.”

He stepped into the firelight with his palms open.

The flames didn’t simply die down—they bent and slithered like water responding to a hand.

The fire drew itself into thin red ribbons, arcing toward him and curling across his skin as if it belonged there. His eyes flared, twin rubies igniting in the dark.

“He can eat it, breathe it, wear it,” Jasmia murmured, pride in her voice as she briefly rested a hand on my shoulder. “He’s a real fire-type. Pure control.”

A hot twist of envy knifed through me.

Lori moved with his power like a practiced dancer. I moved with mine like I was chained to something starving and clawing from the inside.

“Let’s go inside,” Lori said, the glow in his eyes fading back into ordinary brown.

He led the way, pushing open a door that revealed a house mostly sunk into the earth—more like a hidden dugout than a home.

“Welcome to your new home, Tsukia!” he announced as we stepped inside.

“Home?”

The word landed softly, like something I hadn’t realized I was missing. My chest tightened, and my eyes burned unexpectedly.

The place was larger than I expected—spacious but warm, the kind of shelter carved carefully beneath the hillside.

A small part of me—old, paranoid, trained to distrust safety—whispered trap.

But when I sank into the softness of real blankets, that voice quieted.

I must have been more exhausted than I realized. I closed my eyes and drifted off before I even finished thinking about it.

Morning arrived in a single disorienting blink.

I jolted awake, disoriented. For a second, I couldn’t place where I was—the dream of a man named Lori and a girl named Jasmia still clinging to the edges of my mind.

Then my fingers brushed unfamiliar sheets.

The realization hit me: I wasn’t on the mountain.

My stomach flipped.

“A new day, I guess…” I muttered, as the certainty settled in that this wasn’t a dream. I… trusted humans. For the first time.

Sunlight spilled through the window like a spotlight.

I stood awkwardly, hair tangled into a mess as I shuffled to the mirror.

Puffy eyes. A deep scowl. Skin even paler than I felt inside.

“Ugly…” I grumbled, splashing cold water over my face to shake off the heaviness.

Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like coffee. Jasmia was already there, cradling a steaming mug.

“Morning, sunshine! Want some coffee, Kia?” she asked.

“Sure.”

The nickname made heat rise to my cheeks.

She handed me a cup. For a moment, we just sat in quiet morning stillness, letting the silence settle gently between us.

Lori burst in next, holding an iced coffee and that usual breathless energy that always felt like the start of chaos.

“What’s up, girls! We’re going to the supermarket later. We need supplies—and Tsukia definitely needs clothes that don’t scream ‘girl from a mountain,’” he said with a grin.

“Do we even have money?” Jasmia asked, skeptical.

Lori gave a sideways smile. “I borrowed it from people who didn’t deserve it.”

“YOU STOLE IT AGAIN!” Jasmia snapped, equal parts exasperated sister and mock outrage.

I watched them like someone looking into a sunlit room through frosted glass.

Lori only laughed, then winked at me.

“Don’t mind her. She’s cranky because I friend-zoned her for ten years.”

“LORI, SHUT UP!” she shouted, her face turning the same shade as his flames as she stormed out in mock anger.

Lori chuckled. “Be ready by 1:00 pm, Tsukia. We’re hitting the market.”

I nodded and retreated to my room.

The hours passed in an uncomfortable stillness. The kindness from the morning lingered—and it made me feel exposed.

Vulnerability was dangerous.

I needed to get stronger.

I sat on the floor, breathing slowly, focusing on the scarred skin of my right wrist.

Just one hand. Keep the leak under control.

My breathing slowed until it was almost nonexistent.

Dark veins crept across my skin like ink bleeding through paper. A black haze gathered at my fingertips. The pressure inside me felt heavier than lead.

My ears rang. A thin line of blood slipped from my earlobe. I ignored it.

A small ceramic vase sat on the nightstand, bright flowers still inside.

Lift.

A low scrape echoed in the quiet room as the vase shifted. Then, the atmosphere thickened, turning dense and cold around the ceramic. It didn't just lift—it hung there, defying gravity by a mere three inches.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, a small, smile breaking across my face.

It worked.

Then everything tilted.

Pressure spiked inside my chest—hot, sharp, unbearable. I tried to release it, but the force didn’t stop.

It fed.

The petals dulled. Color drained from the flowers in seconds, turning gray and brittle before collapsing into dust. The vase cracked—fine, spidering fractures spreading across its surface.

Then the world broke, a white flash exploded through my vision.

For a moment, I wasn’t in my room.

I saw a woman—impossibly tall, radiant, with obsidian wings stretching across the sky like thunder given form. She felt like a goddess… or a memory I had lost.

“Find the source…”

The voice wasn’t heard—it was felt. Pressed into my bones.

Pain tore through my skull as I screamed in agony.

My hands flew to my head as the vase shattered into a thousand pieces across the floor.

I collapsed, gasping, the room spinning in jagged fragments of light and shadow.

Silence returned like a curtain dropping.

Only my ragged breathing remained… and the faint tink of porcelain settling on wood.

“What… was that?” I whispered into the empty room.

Tsukia's POV

The campfire hissed and spat, sending long flickering silhouettes crawling up the trunks around us. For the first time in years, the mountain's usual cold didn't seem to reach me.

It stopped at my skin instead of burrowing into my bones.

I perched on a split log, a stick balanced in my hand, a white sugar cube or what they called a "marshmallow" speared at the end.

Watching it blister and turn golden in the heat held me in a quiet trance.

"Don't let it catch, Kia! Rotate it," Jasmia teased, her laughter bright and curious.

The nickname felt strange in my mouth. Kia.

I nudged the marshmallow into my mouth. It was overwhelmingly sweet and cloying enough to make my teeth ache but somehow, it tasted like calm.

Maybe Lori had been right. Maybe not every human deserved the monsters I had imagined in my dreams.

"So..." Jasmia leaned forward, chin resting on her hand.

"Lori says you're gifted, but your magic seems... different. What is it? Some kind of alien thing?"

My throat tightened. The sweetness in my mouth curdled into something heavier. I stared at my hands tucked inside my sleeves, as if I could hide them.

"I... I don't really know," I admitted.

"She's right to be careful," Lori said, his voice steady and low.

He prodded the embers with a stick. "I've felt it, Jasmia. It isn't like our kind of potential. Ours feels like stepping into a river you can ride. Hers... it's like staring into an abyss. Even the smallest move seems to bruise her body under the strain."

Jasmia's grin faltered. "Is it that dangerous?"

"I'm an abominable bad-luck charm," I whispered before I could stop myself, the cruel words from my old village slipping out.

"When I use it... my surroundings get hurt. Or I do."

The wood popped. For a moment, that sound was the only thing between us and a silence that could have swallowed the night.

Lori stood, breaking the tension.

"Enough gloom. Watch this."

He stepped into the firelight with his palms open.

The flames didn't simply die down-they bent and slithered like water responding to a hand.

The fire drew itself into thin red ribbons, arcing toward him and curling across his skin as if it belonged there. His eyes flared, twin rubies igniting in the dark.

"He can eat it, breathe it, wear it," Jasmia murmured, pride in her voice as she briefly rested a hand on my shoulder. "He's a real fire-type. Pure control."

A hot twist of envy knifed through me.

Lori moved with his power like a practiced dancer. I moved with mine like I was chained to something starving and clawing from the inside.

"Let's go inside," Lori said, the glow in his eyes fading back into ordinary brown.

He led the way, pushing open a door that revealed a house mostly sunk into the earth-more like a hidden dugout than a home.

"Welcome to your new home, Tsukia!" he announced as we stepped inside.

"Home?"

The word landed softly, like something I hadn't realized I was missing. My chest tightened, and my eyes burned unexpectedly.

The place was larger than I expected-spacious but warm, the kind of shelter carved carefully beneath the hillside.

A small part of me-old, paranoid, trained to distrust safety-whispered trap.

But when I sank into the softness of real blankets, that voice quieted.

I must have been more exhausted than I realized. I closed my eyes and drifted off before I even finished thinking about it.

Morning arrived in a single disorienting blink.

I jolted awake, disoriented. For a second, I couldn't place where I was-the dream of a man named Lori and a girl named Jasmia still clinging to the edges of my mind.

Then my fingers brushed unfamiliar sheets.

The realization hit me: I wasn't on the mountain.

My stomach flipped.

"A new day, I guess..." I muttered, as the certainty settled in that this wasn't a dream. I... trusted humans. For the first time.

Sunlight spilled through the window like a spotlight.

I stood awkwardly, hair tangled into a mess as I shuffled to the mirror.

Puffy eyes. A deep scowl. Skin even paler than I felt inside.

"Ugly..." I grumbled, splashing cold water over my face to shake off the heaviness.

Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like coffee. Jasmia was already there, cradling a steaming mug.

"Morning, sunshine! Want some coffee, Kia?" she asked.

"Sure."

The nickname made heat rise to my cheeks.

She handed me a cup. For a moment, we just sat in quiet morning stillness, letting the silence settle gently between us.

Lori burst in next, holding an iced coffee and that usual breathless energy that always felt like the start of chaos.

"What's up, girls! We're going to the supermarket later. We need supplies-and Tsukia definitely needs clothes that don't scream 'girl from a mountain,'" he said with a grin.

"Do we even have money?" Jasmia asked, skeptical.

Lori gave a sideways smile. "I borrowed it from people who didn't deserve it."

"YOU STOLE IT AGAIN!" Jasmia snapped, equal parts exasperated sister and mock outrage.

I watched them like someone looking into a sunlit room through frosted glass.

Lori only laughed, then winked at me.

"Don't mind her. She's cranky because I friend-zoned her for ten years."

"LORI, SHUT UP!" she shouted, her face turning the same shade as his flames as she stormed out in mock anger.

Lori chuckled. "Be ready by 1:00 pm, Tsukia. We're hitting the market."

I nodded and retreated to my room.

The hours passed in an uncomfortable stillness. The kindness from the morning lingered-and it made me feel exposed.

Vulnerability was dangerous.

I needed to get stronger.

I sat on the floor, breathing slowly, focusing on the scarred skin of my right wrist.

Just one hand. Keep the leak under control.

My breathing slowed until it was almost nonexistent.

Dark veins crept across my skin like ink bleeding through paper. A black haze gathered at my fingertips. The pressure inside me felt heavier than lead.

My ears rang. A thin line of blood slipped from my earlobe. I ignored it.

A small ceramic vase sat on the nightstand, bright flowers still inside.

Lift.

A low scrape echoed in the quiet room as the vase shifted. Then, the atmosphere thickened, turning dense and cold around the ceramic. It didn't just lift-it hung there, defying gravity by a mere three inches.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, a small, smile breaking across my face.

It worked.

Then everything tilted.

Pressure spiked inside my chest-hot, sharp, unbearable. I tried to release it, but the force didn't stop.

It fed.

The petals dulled. Color drained from the flowers in seconds, turning gray and brittle before collapsing into dust. The vase cracked-fine, spidering fractures spreading across its surface.

Then the world broke, a white flash exploded through my vision.

For a moment, I wasn't in my room.

I saw a woman-impossibly tall, radiant, with obsidian wings stretching across the sky like thunder given form. She felt like a goddess... or a memory I had lost.

"Find the source..."

The voice wasn't heard-it was felt. Pressed into my bones.

Pain tore through my skull as I screamed in agony.

My hands flew to my head as the vase shattered into a thousand pieces across the floor.

I collapsed, gasping, the room spinning in jagged fragments of light and shadow.

Silence returned like a curtain dropping.

Only my ragged breathing remained... and the faint tink of porcelain settling on wood.

"What... was that?" I whispered into the empty room.