Chapter 111: Kotori Itsuka

Today was Kotori Itsuka’s ninth birthday. For a girl her age, a birthday should be a joyful day spent happily with family, yet no matter what, she could not find any happiness today.

Half a month ago, Kotori was spending an ordinary day with her sister as usual. Their parents were often busy with work and rarely at home, a fact they had grown accustomed to, though they still hoped for their parents’ return.

A faint click sounded as the front door opened from the outside. Both girls assumed it was their parents returning since only their parents had keys to the house. Excitedly, they ran toward the door, but they didn’t notice the absence of their parents’ usual warm greetings.

Instead of smiles, they were met by several men in black suits and a few police officers searching through the house.

When the group spotted the two girls approaching, all eyes turned to them. Feeling uneasy under the gaze of strangers, the not-yet-nine Kotori hid behind her sister, Shiori, trembling in fear of these unexpected intruders in their home.

Compared to Kotori, Shiori was more mature. The neighborhood was relatively safe, which reassured the Itsuka couple enough to leave their two young daughters alone at home. Since most of the men present wore police uniforms, Shiori assumed they were not bad people.

Children’s minds are simple and often hold policemen in high regard. Shiori greeted them politely, “Sir, why have you come to our home?”

She didn’t notice the pity and sorrow flickering in their eyes. Shiori’s innocent words drew a sigh from the adults; they couldn’t bear to tell the girls the full truth. According to their investigation, the girls had no other relatives. One of them had even been adopted by the late Itsuka couple. It was hard to imagine how their lives would unfold from this point.

One police officer bit his lip and asked, “You are Kotori and Shiori Itsuka, right? Do you have any other family?”

“N-no... we don’t. We’ve never heard of any other relatives,” Shiori replied, having been adopted and not fully aware. She glanced back at her sister, who looked like a frightened little rabbit, trembling as she answered quietly.

“You must be strong... A few days ago, we found your parents. They... they went to a very faraway place and might not return for a long time. Until then, you must take good care of yourselves,” one officer said, trying to comfort them with a gentle, though untruthful, explanation.

Such words might soothe children unaware of the real situation, but Kotori and Shiori understood perfectly. Kotori froze, standing motionless like a doll.

“How could this be? How could Mom and Dad be gone...?” The girls’ reactions were expected; most children would be devastated by such news.

The officers tried hard to console them, but their efforts stirred little response.

The men in black suits accompanying the police seemed oblivious to the scene, continuing to search the house thoroughly. After a while, they gathered, shook their heads to indicate they had found nothing, and left.

The officers, worried by the girls’ lack of reaction, urged them a few more times before departing, leaving two girls unwilling to accept the cruel truth behind.

For several days, Kotori and Shiori drifted through a haze like puppets with their strings cut.

Shiori, having once been abandoned by her biological parents and plunged into despair, recovered first. Having endured similar pain, she accepted the reality more swiftly. She imagined that Kotori, the little crybaby, must be hiding in her room, sobbing alone.

Once, Shiori had been saved by her parents and Kotori; now it was her turn to save Kotori.

“Today is Kotori’s ninth birthday. I’m going to buy her a present to help her be strong!” Shiori’s thoughts of her sister flashed vividly as she stepped out to find a gift that might bring Kotori joy.

In a room without sunlight, the curtains long undrawn, a faint chill lingered. Kotori crouched on her small bed, head bowed as she wept quietly.

“Do you want to be strong?” A faint, indistinct voice whispered in her ear. Kotori startled, lifting her head to look around fearfully. The sudden presence of a voice in her empty room was terrifying.

“Who are you?” she asked, raising her eyes to see a figure blurred, as if deliberately obscured to hide its true face.

The shadowed figure ignored her question and asked, “Do you hate sadness? Do you not want to cry anymore?”

“I... I want to be strong...” For some reason, Kotori felt less afraid on seeing the figure. After a moment of silence, she answered.

A low, soft laugh escaped the figure, unnoticed by Kotori. It produced a crystal-like gem and sent it flying toward her. “Then accept its power. With it, you will truly be strong.”

Kotori’s crimson eyes flickered briefly before she made a firm decision. She placed the spirit crystal on her chest.

Suddenly, wild flames filled her vision, igniting the entire room, then the whole house. The fire spread beyond, engulfing the entire street. The crackling flames terrified the nine-year-old Kotori, who called out desperately for her parents and sister. In her panic, she failed to realize the flames did not harm her; instead, they protected her.

Outside the Itsuka house, Yoru’s heart twisted with turmoil. No one knew Yoru would come to the Itsuka home tonight, and yet a fire erupted just after his arrival. If it were an accident, it was a cruel coincidence; if deliberate, it seemed unlikely.

“Kotori!!!” Amid the smoke and flames consuming the street, a figure outside the fire dashed forward fearlessly. The burning heat did not deter her as she called for her sister and ran toward the house.

Shiori, having just returned with Kotori’s gift, found the street engulfed in flames. Her mind focused on only one name—her sister’s. She didn’t stop to think about how the fire started; all that mattered was saving Kotori.

She ran past Yoru, Shirahime, and others without hesitation and plunged into the burning inferno.

“Don’t come in! I’m going in to rescue her!” Yoru guessed that the situation involved spirits, and the girl who just entered was likely one of the Itsuka sisters. He followed without hesitation, knowing the flames posed no real threat to him.

Inside, they found a small girl seated on the floor, crying weakly. Her attire was strange—a kimono with wide sleeves and hem, white ribbons tied in her hair. Flames flickered around her but did not burn the garment.

She sat there, vulnerable yet untouched by the fire’s fury.