The road stretched endlessly beneath a pale grey sky.
Yuki had been staring at passing fields for nearly an hour—grasslands rolling into distant tree lines, the occasional farmhouse, herds of cattle that looked like scattered seeds from above. It was beautiful, in a monotonous kind of way.
But beauty only held his attention for so long.
He pulled out his phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. Hana. He should text Hana. Let her know he was leaving. She'd probably call him an idiot and tell him not to die, which was basically her version of "I'll miss you."
He typed: Hey demon, I'm heading out for train—
The phone vanished from his hands.
Yuki blinked.
Lord Genji had snatched it without looking, rolled down the window, and tossed it into the tall grass beside the road.
The device tumbled end over end, flashing once in the sunlight before disappearing into the foliage.
Yuki's brain took several seconds to process what had just happened.
"WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" he shrieked, lunging toward the window as if he could somehow retrieve it.
Genji didn't even glance at him. "You're not taking any electronics into the forest."
"Electronics? That's my PHONE! My connection to the outside world! My—"
"Your distraction," Genji cut in smoothly. "You won't need it where we're going."
Yuki slumped back into his seat, staring at the empty space where his phone had been. His fingers twitched.
Hana's going to kill me. Actually kill me. She'll think I ghosted her.
He forced himself to take a breath and refocus.
"Forest?" He tilted his head, replaying Genji's words. "I thought we were going to the ancestral mountains. That's what you said."
Lord Genji smiled.
It was not a comforting smile.
"Right now, we're heading to an abandoned airfield. From there, we take a plane."
"Okay. Plane to where?"
"The Amazon Rainforest."
Yuki's mind went blank.
The Amazon. One of the most dangerous places on the planet. Filled with kizo beasts that had never been catalogued. Poisonous plants that could kill before you even realized you'd been pricked. Monsters thought to be myths—giant wolves, serpents the size of trains, things that had no names because no one had survived long enough to give them one.
He leaned back in his seat.
And smiled.
Tetsu glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "What are you smiling about? You could die within fifty minutes of us getting there."
Yuki's grin widened.
"Exactly," he said. "It's an opportunity to get stronger."
Tetsu stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head and returned his attention to the road.
Kinatarou, he thought. They're all insane.
---
"Give me your bag," Genji said.
Yuki hesitated, then handed it over.
Genji unzipped it and began rifling through the contents. Yuki watched him, then let his gaze drift to his companions.
He hadn't really looked at them before.
Lord Genji wore a dark green long-sleeved shirt beneath a lightweight tactical vest, and sturdy brown joggers tucked into high boots. Tetsu was dressed similarly—black long sleeves, dark grey joggers, the kind of clothing that allowed full range of motion while protecting against scratches, bites, and the general hostility of nature.
Yuki looked down at his own clothes. A simple t-shirt and shorts.
"Why are you dressed like that?" he asked.
Tetsu answered without turning. "The Amazon is dangerous. Even for us. We dress to fight."
Yuki nodded slowly, filing that away.
Even Lord Genji—an Aethelgard—takes precautions. That's not comforting.
Genji pulled out the black earpiece—Yuki's connection to Kira.
Yuki's heart stopped.
"Wait—please—don't throw that away—" He lunged forward, hands outstretched.
Genji held the earpiece up, examining it like a curious artifact.
"I know about Kira," he said calmly. "Most Royal family heads do. She's one of the Kinatarou's most prized possessions. An AI capable of extraordinary things." He looked at Yuki. "She was created the same year you were, wasn't she?"
Yuki blinked. "I... actually never thought about that."
Genji's expression didn't change.
He found the black ice dagger next—pulled it from the bag, turned it over in his hands, feeling its impossible cold. The blade didn't frost his fingers. It simply... existed. Permanently. Hungrily.
"Seri told me about this weapon," he murmured.
He slid the dagger back into the bag and handed the whole thing to Yuki.
"You keep the clothes and the blade. Nothing else."
He placed the earpiece into the jeep's glove box and closed it with a firm click.
"Kira doesn't get to help you. This training is yours alone."
Yuki stared at the glove box, then at the bag in his lap.
He didn't argue.
---
Two hours later, the grassy plains gave way to something else.
The road narrowed. The trees grew thicker. And then, cresting a low hill, Yuki saw it.
An abandoned airfield.
Run down. Overgrown. Weeds pushing through cracked concrete. But at the far end of the main runway, a cargo plane sat waiting—engines already rumbling, propellers cutting the air.
It looked ancient. Patchwork. Like it had no business being airworthy.
Yuki turned to Genji. "That thing is going to fly?"
"If you're lucky."
"...And if I'm not?"
Genji stepped out of the jeep. "Then the crash will be faster than anything the jungle could do to you."
Tetsu clapped Yuki on the shoulder—hard enough to stagger him. "Cheer up. The pilot's a good man. Lots of stories."
---
The pilot was an old man with skin like leather and eyes that had seen too much. He wore a faded baseball cap and a stained jacket, and he didn't introduce himself. He just pointed at the cargo bay and said, "Sit wherever. Try not to touch anything."
Yuki found a pile of old parachute bags and军用 crates in the corner, slumped against them, and watched the world shrink through a small circular window.
The plane taxied. Lifted. Shook violently.
Yuki's teeth clacked together.
Twenty-three hours of this.
He thought about Hana. About the look on her face when he didn't text back. She'd probably break into his house to check if he was dead.
He thought about Luna. About the way she'd held back tears when he left. I'll protect her, she'd said. His chest ached.
He thought about Seri. About the kiss. About the way she'd said I love you like she was stating a fact, not asking a question.
I'll make you fall in love with me.
He smiled in the dim light of the cargo bay.
Maybe you already have.
The plane rattled on.
Lord Genji sat across the bay, watching the boy.
He's thinking about her.
He could see it in the softness of Yuki's expression—the way his lips curved slightly, the way his eyes unfocused.
My daughter.
Genji had known about Seri's feelings for weeks. Perhaps longer. He was her father. He noticed the way she looked at Yuki—the way she hadn't looked at anyone before.
He studied the boy now. Bruised. Scarred. Carrying a dagger made of frozen hatred. Smiling softly at nothing.
What about him made her fall in love?
Genji didn't have an answer.
But he was beginning to understand.
Twenty-three hours later, Tetsu kicked Yuki awake.
He'd been lying in the pile of junk, somehow sleeping through turbulence that should have thrown him across the bay. His hair was a mess. There was a crease on his cheek from where he'd been pressed against a crate.
Yuki yawned, stretched, and blinked groggily.
"Are we there yet?"
Tetsu smiled—a rare, genuine expression. "Sleeping through twenty-three hours of that ride is either a great achievement or a sign of extreme laziness. I haven't decided which."
Yuki stood, rubbed his neck, and followed Tetsu toward the cockpit.
The view stole his breath.
The Amazon stretched beneath them—endless, vast, older than human memory. Trees rose higher than skyscrapers, their canopies forming a green ceiling that blocked the forest floor from view. Rivers twisted through the landscape like silver serpents. Mist clung to the treetops, glowing gold in the morning light.
It was beautiful.
It was terrifying.
The pilot spoke without turning around. "Time to jump."
Yuki's blood went cold.
"...Jump?"
The pilot pointed out the window. "Do you see anywhere to land?"
Yuki looked. There was nothing but trees. Kilometers and kilometers of trees.
"No," he admitted.
"Then you jump."
"But—I don't have a parachute!"
Lord Genji stood and stretched. "Neither do we."
Yuki's eyes widened. He backed away from the cockpit door, hands raised.
"No. No, no, no—you can't just throw me out of a plane—"
Tetsu grabbed him by the collar.
"TETSU-SAN, WAIT—"
Tetsu dragged him toward the cargo bay door. The wind outside screamed against the metal, cold and hungry.
"I'll do anything!" Yuki pleaded, clawing at the doorframe. "I'll be your maid! For TWO YEARS! I'll clean your boots! I'll—"
Tetsu opened the door.
The wind roared.
"PLEASE—"
Tetsu threw him out.
Fifty thousand feet.
The air was thin and freezing. The world was a blur of green and blue. Yuki tumbled end over end, arms flailing, heart hammering so hard he could feel it in his teeth.
I don't have a parachute.
I don't have a parachute.
I DON'T HAVE A—
"Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"
His scream was swallowed by the wind.
Above him, two silhouettes appeared—Lord Genji and Tetsu, falling after him. Neither wore parachutes. Neither looked particularly concerned.
Yuki tried to twist, to orient himself, but the wind battered him like a ragdoll. The ground rushed up—too fast, too green, too hungry.
This is how I die.
Thrown out of a plane by a stone man.
Hana's going to kill me.
Wait, no—the ground is going to kill me first—
He closed his eyes.
And then—
To be continued.