Tokyo, Japan.
Near Tokyo University, Gakuen-sai's night.
June 18th, 2026
10:35 PM 21° Celsius/69.8° Fahrenheit
Smoke curled through the narrow back alley, curling like restless spirits. Ray stood still, shoulders rising and falling with each shallow breath. His clothes clung to his bloodied frame, the pain dulled by exhaustion and adrenaline. Beside him, Izanami scanned their surroundings, alert but cautious.
Ray's voice was barely above a whisper.
"I need to get back there."
Izanami turned to him, surprised. "What? Ray, no. You're barely standing. The Chinese are flooding the area. It's suicide."
His face remained unreadable, eyes darkened beneath blood and grime.
"Reina. Kitsune. Arashi…"
He didn't need to say more.
They weren't just stepsisters. They were Sakura's daughters, the wife of his father. And while his relationship with them were not so very close, distant—he couldn't leave them behind. Not now. Not like this.
"I have to go." His voice was sharper now.
Izanami opened her mouth to argue, but then—
Click.
Red laser sights suddenly lit up their bodies. Dozens of them.
They froze.
Out of the darkness ahead, figures emerged—Chinese Special Forces, rifles raised, movements precise and silent. Their armor glinted under the pale moonlight.
"Shit," Izanami muttered, her hand moving instinctively toward her weapon.
"Don't move." One of the operators spoke in Mandarin.
Then....
A voice. Soft. Familiar. Haunting.
"Ray?"
Time stopped.
Ray's eyes widened. His entire body stiffened. That voice, it was impossible.
He turned his head slowly.
And from behind the soldiers, the shadows parted… revealing her.
Risa Rourke.
Alive.
Impossibly real.
Hair blonde and smooth and silk. Skin untouched by time. She walked like a queen—no, a force of nature. At her side, grinning with mischief, stood Daffodil Rourke, Ray's aunt, flamboyant and wild-eyed, dressed like trouble in human form.
Ray didn't speak. Couldn't. His mind raced. His mother—dead, or so he thought—now stood in front of him. Not just alive, but commanding Chinese Special Forces like her personal guard.
He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
His mother was back.
Risa's eyes landed on him. For a brief moment, her commanding presence shattered, her gaze shifted to one of horror, of maternal anguish. She saw the blood, the bruises, the limp in his leg. Her son, her flesh and blood.
Without hesitation, she moved forward to embrace him.
But before she could reach,
Izanami stepped in front of Ray, blocking her path, both arms raised defensively.
Thwack.
Izanami deflected Risa's reaching hand and shoved her back a step.
"Stay the hell away from him." Izanami's voice was calm. Icy.
Risa's eyes widened, stunned.
Then her face twisted into rage.
She drew her pistol.
In a flash, the barrel pointed straight at Izanami's chest.
"Move." Risa growled, her voice venomous.
In perfect unison, the entire Chinese Special Forces squad raised their weapons—aimed directly at Izanami.
Red dots danced across her head, chest, limbs. A dozen soldiers. All locked in.
Ray's breath caught.
"Wait!"
But the standoff held. Risa didn't flinch. Her arm was steady, expression burning with fury and pain.
"You dare touch me?" Risa snapped, trembling not with fear, but with restrained emotion.
"
That's my son." Risa added, her voice filled with many emotions.
Izanami didn't lower her stance.
"You may be his mother, but I'm the one who's been bleeding beside him. Where were you when he was left to rot?"
The words struck harder than any bullet.
Risa's eyes flickered. For just a second, they softened. But the pistol remained.
Behind her, Daffodil laughed. She clapped her hands, clearly entertained.
"This is so tense. I love it." She leaned toward Risa.
"Sis, your son's got guts. Reminds me of you in your younger, stabby-er days." Daffodil.
Ray, still silent, was trembling. Not from fear—but from the overwhelming storm inside him.
He stared at Risa.
His mother.
His blood.
She looked the same. Cold beauty. Regal poise. The Matriarch.
But in her eyes, he saw something buried, guilt, love, and pain.
He hadn't seen her in over a decade.
She had left. Vanished. No goodbye. No closure.
He'd told himself she was dead, buried that part of himself to survive.
And now she stood before him, pistol drawn on the one person who'd never abandoned him.
"Enough." Ray finally spoke, voice cracked and low.
Risa slowly turned her head toward him.
His eyes met hers. And for the first time in years, they spoke without words.
The rage. The betrayal. The unanswered questions.
Ray took a shaky step forward, his hand brushing Izanami's arm.
"It's okay." He said.
Izanami didn't move.
Not yet.
Risa hesitated, then slowly, very slowly, lowered her pistol.
So did the soldiers.
The air relaxed, but only slightly.
Risa swallowed, her voice trembling now.
"Ray…"
But Ray didn't answer.
Not yet.
He looked at her, studied her face. The woman who once held his hand as a boy. Who vanished when the world turned dark. Who now returned with armies and secrets.
His voice was quiet, distant.
"Why?"
That word. One word implying with many questions.