The young boy's feet touched down on unfamiliar ground—Tsukihara, his new beginning. The sky above welcomed him with sunshine, though strong winds brushed past his shoulders like whispers from a distant world.
He checked the time on his smartphone, mindful that someone was supposed to meet him soon at the airport's parking lot. "Not much time left," he muttered, retrieving a folded slip of paper from his bag. "Renjiro Hanabira… that's the guy."
Following the directions carefully, he made his way to the nearest parking area, which lay just across the road from the airport's main exit.
Taking his time, he stood patiently at the crosswalk, letting the passing traffic rush by before stepping onto the street. His pace was calm and deliberate.
Once on the other side, he slipped the note back into his pocket and headed toward the parking lot bench. He hovered beside it, choosing not to sit. After all, he'd just spent ten long hours stuck in a seat, barely moving, most of it asleep.
His mind drifted. "That dream…" he murmured to himself, eyes narrowing slightly. "Even if it didn't feel real, it meant something. Like it was trying to tell me something… A warning, maybe? Something waiting ahead?"
He shifted his thoughts to another subject—one he rarely allowed himself to dwell on, and never spoke about openly. Still, no matter how much he tried to distance himself, the world had a way of reminding him.
It was everywhere. The headlines. The articles. The whispers in online forums. With a quiet sigh, he pulled out another folded piece of paper and stared at the bold print near the top.
"Reported for Assault and Battery – Subject under investigation for suspected manslaughter…"
There was more—cold, clinical paragraphs stacked with accusations. Words that made his stomach twist.
None of it was true. He knew that. And yet, the weight of someone else's lie now shaped how others saw him. The truth had been warped, twisted into something grotesque by a false report. And now, as he stood in a new city with a fresh start in front of him, he was still haunted by a reputation built on fiction.
He didn't want to be known as a killer. Not in Tsukihara. Not anywhere. But that was the shadow that followed him, and all he could do was walk forward and hope that time would clear the fog.
Taking a deep breath, he folded the paper and tucked it away, as if sealing the memory again. "Please…" he whispered to the wind, eyes glancing skyward, "let him see me for who I am. Not who they say I am…"
He prayed silently, hoping that the man who was coming to meet him—his new caretaker—would treat him like a person, not a headline.
At last, a car pulled into the parking lot—an older model with a few modern touches, its engine humming low. The boy glanced up as the vehicle came to a stop in front of him, the driver's side window sliding down with a mechanical whir.
From behind a pair of tinted sunglasses, the man inside leaned out slightly, giving the boy a once-over before speaking.
"I'm guessing you're Yamamoto's kid... Timeo, right?"
The moment his name was spoken, it felt as though a weight had been unlocked inside him. Timeo gave a small, reserved nod.
"Name's Renjiro," the man continued, adjusting his glasses with a sigh. "Hop in. I'll take you to where you'll be staying. Just don't expect anything fancy—it's not some high-rise apartment. Just a café."
With a casual shake of his head, Renjiro motioned for him to get in. Timeo stepped forward, opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat without a word, sitting beside the man who would now be his guardian.
Halfway down the road to Himorashi, the ride remained mostly quiet. Renjiro kept his eyes on the road, his expression firm and unreadable. Eventually, he spoke up, his voice steady but casual.
"So... how was the flight to Tsukihara? Any fun? Heard that route can get pretty packed, but I suppose you got lucky flying in late evening."
Timeo wasn't exactly in a talkative mood. After all, he had just met this man—his so-called caretaker—and wasn't sure how he'd be treated. Still, he replied, not wanting to come off as suspicious or rude.
"It wasn't too bad. The airport was packed, yeah… but the plane itself was pretty empty."
Renjiro gave a slight nod, glancing at Timeo out of the corner of his eye. He was beginning to get a read on the boy—quiet, calm, and clearly the reserved type. Still, the memory of that criminal report lingered in the back of Renjiro's mind, gnawing at his instincts. But it was only the first day. For now, he'd observe.
"Be careful out there," Renjiro warned, scratching the bridge of his nose as if trying to soften the edge of his words. "You're lucky I agreed to take you in, considering your record."
He glanced over briefly, continuing, "You're seventeen, right? Second year of high school? Once we get you transferred, don't expect a warm welcome. Word's already out. The school knows about your situation. They were hesitant, but they still gave the green light—as long as I handled the paperwork."
He paused for a moment before adding, more firmly, "And just so we're clear—living under my roof means you follow my rules. Understood?"
Timeo met Renjiro's gaze with a slightly uneasy expression. Deep down, he knew he'd have to earn this man's trust and prove the truth—that he wasn't the criminal people believed him to be. Despite his quiet demeanor and respectful nature, most people either doubted or outright ignored that part of him.
Still, he nodded, offering a calm reply.
"Yeah. I understand. You don't have to worry."
"Good. Just so we're clear," Renjiro said firmly. "It'll take another thirty minutes to reach Himorashi—that's where my café is. It's nothing fancy, but it's got a roof, and it's not a prison. Just don't mess anything up. I don't need any kind of trouble, especially the kind that's avoidable."
Timeo nodded silently, turning his gaze to the window, watching the city pass by in a blur.
"I promise I won't," he mumbled, feeling slightly awkward in the moment.
Renjiro kept his eyes on the road. "Your school's in Aokusa, by the way. One of the best in the country. But don't get cocky—it's not easy. You'll need to study hard and stay on top of things. And don't come crying to me if your exam scores drop. I've got enough on my plate already. Don't add to it."
Once more, Timeo gave a quiet nod. It was clear Renjiro had a strict personality, but that was expected. Anyone taking in someone labeled a criminal would naturally keep their guard up.
"Aokusa…" Timeo murmured under his breath, then drifted back to a thought that had been echoing since his dream on the plane.
"Eidolon… What is that supposed to mean…?"
To be continued...