The broken seal still faintly glowed on the ground like a dying ember, the last remnants of ancient magic flickering into the wind. Raito remained silent, eyes fixed on the disturbance ahead.
And then, the air grew heavy.
Thicker.
Colder.
A presence stirred in the stillness like ink spreading in water—slow, deliberate, inevitable.
From the shadows beyond the shattered seal, a figure stepped into the clearing.
She emerged without sound, bare feet brushing over the stone floor as if the earth itself welcomed her return. Her long black hair cascaded like silk, flowing around her form with the same ethereal weightlessness Kurai sometimes had—but where Kurai's aura radiated mischief and heat, this one's felt like the hush before a blizzard. Crisp. Chilling. Calculated.
And beautiful.
Raito narrowed his eyes slightly as he took in the woman standing before him. She looked eerily similar to Kurai—same pale skin, same body type—but her expression was a portrait of stillness. No teasing grin. No glint of madness in her eyes. Just unreadable calm.
"So," the woman said, voice smooth as falling snow, "my dear sister found herself a vessel."
She tilted her head as her eyes scanned him—not with surprise, but quiet curiosity. "A human one, no less."
Raito said nothing.
But inside his head, Kurai growled.
And then—
Without his consent, his mouth moved.
"At least I have a vessel," Kurai's voice spoke through him, her tone laced with venomous pride. "Even if I spend most of my time wanting to kill humans, it's still more than what you've got. You wanted to help humans, and look where it got you. Buried. Forgotten."
Raito twitched, his hand clenching into a fist. "Stop doing that," he muttered to her under his breath.
Seigi didn't flinch. Her expression didn't change.
But Raito noticed it.
A flicker—barely there—of something sharp behind her eyes.
Annoyance.
She turned her attention back to him fully. Her gaze was not piercing, not hostile… but vast. Like staring into the ocean. Cold, yes. But not empty.
"What do you want, human?" she asked flatly. "Why break the seal?"
Raito met her eyes and took a step forward, hands in his coat pockets, unfazed. Her power pressed against his skin like icewater, but strangely—it didn't unsettle him. It felt… clean. Quiet. Honest.
Comforting.
He let the silence stretch, then answered with a lazy shrug. "Wanted to make sure you weren't going to be a problem."
She blinked once. "So you broke the seal to check that it wasn't broken."
"That's right."
Kurai let out an indignant scoff in his head. "He thinks he's clever."
Seigi remained still, her dark eyes unblinking. "Humans. Always afraid of what they don't understand."
Raito didn't reply.
Instead, he examined her further. She wasn't emanating malice. Not yet. But the sheer pressure of her presence was undeniable. She hadn't so much as raised her voice, and yet even the trees around the shrine seemed to lean away from her.
And through it all, Kurai continued speaking through Raito's body again, without permission.
"I warned him not to come here, you know. I told him you weren't worth the effort. But humans are stubborn and arrogant and obsessed with answers."
Seigi glanced at her sister—through Raito—with the faintest arch of a brow. "Coming from you, that's rich."
Raito sighed audibly. "Seriously. Stop using my mouth."
"Not until you let me talk properly," Kurai retorted.
Seigi folded her arms, but her tone remained detached. "You're quieter than I expected."
"Most people usually say that."
"maybe you just think too much."
Another long moment passed between them.
Seigi turned her gaze to the broken seal beneath their feet. "You've disturbed something old, something you can't put back."
Raito tilted his head slightly. "Then I suppose you'll just have to behave."
Kurai laughed in his mind, low and amused. "Oh, I like this version of him."
Seigi said nothing.
She only looked at him one last time, her eyes sharp with thoughts she didn't voice, before she turned and walked to the edge of the shrine grounds. Her form seemed to fade in the mist—but she didn't vanish. She was waiting.
Contemplating.
And somewhere behind Raito's composed expression, he understood—
This wasn't over.
This was the beginning.
And Kurai, ever the instigator, chuckled softly in his mind. "Congratulations, idiot. You just let my sister out."
And the snow started to fall softly onto the cracked seal—like a quiet applause for the chaos to come.