The flare still burned faint red above the village, a smear across the darkening sky.
From his cot, Saturo listened to the noise outside the clinic.
"Keep the door closed!"
"What if that girl comes back?!"
"The boy fell from nowhere—"
"And Saturo… did you see how he moved…?"
Their fear slid through the thin walls.
Every breath scraped Saturo's ribs. He shifted and winced.
"Don't move," the doctor muttered. "You're held together by bandages and bad decisions."
The clinic was small—lantern, shelves of herbs, old wood. Near the door, the fisherman stood with arms folded, watching.
On the next cot, the boy who'd fallen from the sky lay bandaged, still and pale. In the corner, the wooden box they'd dragged up with him sat against the wall, like no one wanted to go near it twice.
"He's still out?" Saturo asked.
"For now," the doctor said. "He woke up once, mumbled something about the sky not being closed, then dropped again. Which, frankly, is the most reasonable reaction I've seen today."
Outside, someone yelled, "The Marines will come, right?" Another answered, "If they don't, we're dead."
Saturo glanced back at the other cot.
The boy's fingers twitched.
His brows drew together. Eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, then finding Saturo.
"You're awake," Saturo said.
The boy blinked. "Yeah… I think so."
"You fell out of the sky," Saturo said. "That usually kills people."
A small, tired curve tugged at the boy's mouth. "I remember falling. And water. After that… nothing."
"You nearly drowned," Saturo said. "I dragged you in. Then that gray thing showed up."
The boy tensed at gray thing. "The creature."
"Yeah."
He studied Saturo's chest, tracking the shallow, uneven breaths.
"…Thank you," he said quietly.
"For what?"
"For jumping," the boy said. "Twice."
Saturo looked away. "Someone had to."
A beat passed.
"…I'm Tanjiro," the boy said. "Tanjiro Kamado."
"Saturo," he replied. "You probably heard them shouting it already."
Tanjiro's gaze flicked toward the wall. "They're blaming you."
Saturo snorted weakly. "They like practice."
The door slid open.
The fisherman entered with two villagers on his heels. The doctor turned, scowl ready.
"I said not to crowd them," he snapped.
"We want answers," one villager said, eyes jumping between Saturo, Tanjiro, and the box. "The sky cracks, a boy falls out, a monster follows, and some girl with pink eyes fights it. That's not normal."
Tanjiro's shoulders stiffened.
"He didn't ask to fall here," Saturo said.
"And that girl?" the second villager demanded. "The one with the eyes? She didn't move like a normal person."
"She fought for us," Saturo shot back. "That thing would've shredded the pier."
"She wasn't human," the first villager muttered. "Whatever she was."
The fisherman stepped closer to Tanjiro's cot. "That creature went straight for you and Saturo. Something about you doesn't sit right."
Tanjiro met his stare but stayed silent.
Saturo cut in. "He's half dead from falling and drowning, and you're acting like he tore the sky open himself."
"We don't know what he is," the villager said.
Tanjiro's hands tightened on the blanket.
"Enough," the doctor snapped. "You're scaring my patients. If you want to shout, do it outside."
"We'll wait for the Marines," the fisherman said. "Till then, you three don't leave this room."
Saturo frowned. "Three?"
The fisherman jerked his chin at the corner. "We brought that box too. It was right next to him."
"It shook when we carried it," a villager added. "Should've tossed it back in the sea."
"It's just a box," the doctor said. "If it was dangerous, it would've—"
The box thudded.
Everyone went still.
It rocked again, harder.
The villagers edged back toward the door.
"…Did that thing just—"
Tanjiro flinched. "Nezuko…"
The lid burst open.
Something shot out and landed in a crouch.
The girl from the pier—bare feet, hair tipped orange, eyes glowing pink above a bamboo gag.
She didn't look at Saturo.
She didn't look at the box.
She locked onto the men nearest Tanjiro.
They stumbled back, one almost falling out the door.
"She came out of the box—!"
"I told you—!"
"She's a monster!"
"Nezuko!" Tanjiro's voice cracked. He tried to stand, pain flaring across his face. His hand reached for her. "Wait! It's okay!"
Her head snapped toward him.
"I'm here," he said, forcing himself upright, one hand on his ribs. "Don't attack them."
Her gaze flicked between him and the villagers. She shifted back half a step but stayed in front of his cot, shoulders coiled.
Saturo stared. "She really was in the box…"
One villager seized a cabinet handle like a club. "Get her out of here!"
"Try it," Saturo rasped. "See how far you get."
Nezuko's eyes narrowed at the movement.
The doctor raised both hands. "Nobody touch anything. Nobody swing anything. There's enough broken bodies in here already."
Tanjiro's hand settled on Nezuko's arm. She eased just enough to show she was listening.
"She's with me," he said. "She's not here to hurt you."
"She threw herself at that thing," the fisherman said. "No normal girl does that."
"She was protecting us," Saturo said. "You saw it."
The fisherman didn't argue, but his jaw stayed tight.
Saturo swung his legs off the cot, trying to stand. "Look, just—"
His chest seized.
The room dipped. His breath snagged halfway and shattered into nothing. His knees buckled.
Tanjiro moved on instinct, letting go of Nezuko to catch Saturo's shoulder.
"Easy," Tanjiro said. "Sit. Don't force it."
Saturo fell back onto the cot, one hand on his ribs, dragging in ragged air.
The fisherman watched, unsettled. "…He's going to cough himself to death."
"Not today," the doctor said briskly. "Out. Unless you're here to fix his lungs, you're in my way."
The villagers hesitated.
"We'll be outside," the fisherman said at last. His eyes lingered on Nezuko and Tanjiro. "The Marines will decide what happens next."
The door shut.
The clinic quieted. The villagers' voices dulled to a murmur.
Saturo focused on breathing until the stabbing in his chest dulled to something he could tolerate.
Tanjiro sat back down. Nezuko stayed close, crouched beside him, eyes fixed on the door.
The doctor shuffled into the back room, still muttering about "cracks in the sky" and "boys trying to die twice in one day."
Saturo turned his head. "You okay?" he asked.
Tanjiro nodded once. "I've had worse."
Saturo huffed. "That's… not as comforting as you think."
Tanjiro's gaze dropped to Saturo's chest, watching the uneven rhythm.
"Can I listen?" he asked.
"To what?" Saturo said. "My falling-apart lungs?"
"Just breathe," Tanjiro said. "As normally as you can."
"Normal doesn't exist for me," Saturo muttered, but he didn't stop him.
Tanjiro leaned closer, not touching, only listening. His own breathing slowed.
Inside Saturo's chest, air fought through too-narrow spaces, cutting off early. It didn't sound like simple sickness.
"Your breathing doesn't match your body," Tanjiro said quietly.
Saturo frowned. "Pretty sure my body's the issue."
"If it was only that, it'd sound different," Tanjiro said. "This feels like forcing water through a twisted pipe."
Saturo gave a short, dry exhale. "Great. I'm defective plumbing."
"Whatever happened to you," Tanjiro said, "it's not just bad luck."
"Everyone says something's wrong with me," Saturo replied. "No one ever explains it."
"I won't guess," Tanjiro said. "Not until I'm sure."
Nezuko shifted when he spoke. Tanjiro rested a hand on her hair; she relaxed.
Outside, the flare's glow had faded. Through the small window, the sky was a deep, heavy blue.
Saturo's breathing settled into a rough but steady rhythm. For the first time since the pier, the room felt almost still.
He almost drifted off.
Then something moved—not in the building.
In him.
A faint pulse rolled through his ribs, like his lungs were echoing something far above.
Saturo's eyes snapped open.
The sensation came again—a soft, wrong beat, like a heart in the sky.
Across the room, Tanjiro straightened. His fingers tightened on the cot frame. Nezuko's head whipped toward the window.
The lantern didn't flicker. The walls didn't shake. The doctor didn't react.
Outside, villagers kept arguing about Marines and monsters.
Only the three of them felt it.
Saturo pressed a hand to his chest. "You… felt that?"
Tanjiro nodded. "Yeah."
Nezuko's eyes stayed locked on the slice of night outside, as if she could see something tearing where others saw only dark.
"It's where the sky cracked," Tanjiro murmured.
Saturo swallowed. "I thought it was closing."
"It didn't," Tanjiro said. "Not all the way. Whatever did that…" He looked at Saturo. "It's still there."
The air felt heavier, like the village sat under a wound, not a sky.
"The sky," Saturo said quietly, "isn't done with us."
Tanjiro didn't look away. "Then we can't be done either."
The pulse faded.
But far above, where no one else could hear it, the crack in the sky stirred again—waiting.
AUTHOR'S NOTE — BONUS & EARLY ACCESS
This is my original work. Please support if you like, Suggestions are welcome
◇ I'll drop one bonus chapter for every 10 reviews(leave a review/comment!)
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.