Location: Syndicate Safehouse – Outer Kyoto Prefecture
The sky was a strange shade of gold that morning, an unnatural warmth coating the crumbling rooftops of the old Syndicate district. The wars and Gate ruptures had spared little of the world's original peace, but here, in this forgotten zone of Kyoto, birds still dared to sing. Maybe they were fools. Or maybe, like Nel, they simply wanted to believe in something softer than war.
Nel stretched on the faded futon, groaning as the sunlight poured through the broken blinds of her small flat. Her white tank top clung to her skin, and her hair — a mess of pink curls — exploded around her like a cherry blossom detonation.
"Ugh...morning already?" she muttered, rolling to her side and burying her face in the pillow. For a few seconds, she tried to pretend she wasn't part of the Syndicate. That she wasn't a Spiriter trained to manipulate spectral threads. That she wasn't someone who had watched too many teammates die in Gate collapses.
But her communicator blinked.
Mao: Lin returned. Status: Unstable. Mission success probability: 67%. Ring secured. Currently recovering in Zone-Black.
Nel's eyes softened.
"So you're alive... idiot."
---
9:30 A.M.
She took her time that day.
There were no missions for her. No spy work. No killing. Mao had told her to lay low until further notice. So she walked the narrow alleyways of outer Kyoto in civilian clothes — a loose blue hoodie, jeans, sneakers. Nothing that screamed Syndicate.
She passed a small corner ramen stand and smiled faintly at the old man who waved her in.
"The usual, Nel-chan?"
"Extra miso, no onions."
She sat and ate quietly, listening to the wind shuffle old paper lanterns. Children played somewhere in the distance. And for a while, she could almost pretend the Gates had never opened.
But when she closed her eyes, she saw him.
Lin.
Wounded. Cold. Alone in the dark. Fighting monsters not just in the world, but inside himself.
She hated how clearly she saw him.
---
11:47 A.M. – Training Deck 4, Syndicate Compound
"Again."
Nel breathed out and reformed the spectral thread from her fingertips, weaving it in a looping spiral before shooting it at the training drone. The hit was clean. Precise. But not strong enough.
The drone beeped red.
"Again."
She tried five more times before her hands trembled. Then she dropped to the ground, panting.
"Stupid Gate energy control... stupid threading..."
She leaned against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.
She remembered the first time Lin called her Nel. Just Nel. No rank. No codename. No Spiriter designation.
He had looked at her like she was real.
Not a weapon.
Not a number.
Just... her.
---
2:06 P.M. – Spirit Garden Courtyard
The small rooftop garden above the Syndicate compound was one of the few places where the world felt clean. Plants grew there, wild and undisturbed. Spirit vines tangled through cracked stone. Ghost orchids hummed softly in the breeze.
Nel sat there with a small sketchbook, watching a hummingbird drink from a spectral tulip.
She started drawing it with slow, careful lines.
On the other side of the page, she'd already drawn Lin.
Not in his Reaper gear.
Not covered in blood.
Just him. Quiet. Thoughtful. Standing in the rain.
She shaded the edges of his eyes carefully.
They were always so tired.
---
3:45 P.M. – Medical Bay, Zone-Black
She wasn't supposed to visit.
Lin was in post-fusion quarantine. The Reactor Ring had nearly bonded with his corrupted arm entirely. His vitals were unstable. The med-techs said he needed full isolation.
But Nel ignored them.
She snuck in.
She sat quietly by his bed while he slept, his face pale and tense, sweat dampening his hair.
"You really do get yourself wrecked every damn time," she whispered.
His fingers twitched.
She hesitated, then reached forward and gently took his hand.
His corruption pulsed faintly through her skin.
It didn't hurt. Not her.
Some part of her had always resonated with his entropy. Maybe because she'd seen the same darkness inside herself.
"When this is over," she whispered, "I'm going to punch you. Then maybe... maybe we can go watch fireworks. You remember those? The real ones, not the ones made of Aether?"
No response. But his grip, faintly, tightened.
Just a little.
---
6:30 P.M. – Rooftop, Syndicate Tower
The sun was setting.
Nel leaned on the edge of the tower, wind in her hair, a bottle of peach soda in her hand.
She thought about everything that had happened since the Gates opened.
About the people she'd lost.
About the people she couldn't lose.
She thought about Lin's voice, how flat it always sounded when he gave mission updates. But sometimes, just sometimes, it broke. Like when he talked about his sister. Like when she got hurt. Like when he thought no one was listening.
She smiled to herself.
"You probably don't even realize I'm in love with you, do you?"
She laughed bitterly.
"Maybe I don't even realize it. Not really. But when I'm near you, the noise quiets. The ghosts go quiet. That's gotta mean something."
---
8:02 P.M. – Her Room
She sat in bed, hair damp from a hot shower, Lin's sketch still open on her lap.
Outside, the sirens wailed in the lower districts. Another Gate rupture.
Another death.
But not tonight.
Not for them.
Nel touched the edge of Lin's drawn face and whispered,
"Come back to me."
She turned off the light.
And dreamed of rain.
---
TO BE CONTINUED...