The exit of the veil shimmered ahead of them like thinning glass.
With every step forward, toward its dissolving edge, the air grew lighter. The suffocating density of cursed energy that slowly lifted from their lungs. The park no longer felt like an active cursed zone.
It felt… ordinary.
Mission completed.
And yet —
Momo's thoughts refused to quiet.
She walked a few paces behind Shinji, studying him carefully. The way he scratched the back of his head when nervous. The way his shoulders slouched slightly, as if apologizing for existing.
It didn't match.
Not with the surge of cursed energy she had felt earlier, or with the strange creature that had descended into the vast pool of cursed energy beneath him like it belonged there.
Her fingers tightened subtly around her broom.
Enough speculation.
She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual.
"So… umm, Shinji," she began gently, "if you don't mind me asking… do you have any family we can contact once we're fully outside?"
He slowed a little.
The question lingered between them.
The word echoed strangely inside Shinji's head.
Family…
He stopped walking.
Why hadn't he thought about that?
Through the swarm of cursed spirits he witnessed earlier, through the strange death of a cursed spirit that was on the verge of killing him, and the unease he felt altogether.
Not once had he wondered where he came from.
Who was his family? That was even if he could still remember any
He closed his eyes, in hopes of searching inward his memories to find some sort of clue or answer
Fragments of memories that had once resurfaced, flickered—
A dim tunnel.
Grayish-blue hair tied into three long strands.
A suspended net.
A casual interaction between him and someone about explaining curses and cursed spirits.
"You're so easy to talk to."
His head throbbed faintly, but no memories of his parents or family
No childhood memories resurfaced
Nothing solid.
Only vague, unclear memories he still couldn't fully understand or interpret.
He opened his eyes and resumed walking, now just steps from the Veil's edge.
"Sorry…" he said with a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "I kind of… don't remember anyone. Or anything, really."
It went quiet again.
Miwa blinked.
"…You don't remember anyone?" she repeated softly.
Mai stopped mid-step and stared at him as if he'd just confessed to being an alien.
"Hold on," she said flatly. "What do you mean you don't remember anyone?" Mai said
And just then —
They stepped through the exit of the veil.
The veil dissolved behind them like evaporating glass.
City sounds rushed back in.
Distant traffic.
A humming streetlamp.
Wind brushing the entire area, and everywhere felt human again
Normalcy returned as if nothing had ever happened.
Shinji chuckled nervously, about to elaborate—
"I mean, my memories are just kind of —"
"Onii-chan!!"
The cry split the night open.
High-pitched. Desperate. Tear-soaked.
Shinji turned instinctively.
And saw her.
A little girl stood several meters away beneath the streetlight. Long black hair spilled down her back like silk. Her peach-toned skin glowed softly in the pale light. Her wide eyes shimmered with relief, fear, and something painfully sincere.
Before he could process it —
She ran.
Her small body collided into him with surprising force as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.
"Onii-chan!" she sobbed. "Don't ever leave me again!"
Shinji froze.
His arms hovered awkwardly in the air like malfunctioning machinery.
Onii-chan?
He stared down at her.
He didn't seem to recognize her face or, even recognize her voice.
Didn't recognize the warmth trembling against him.
And yet, something in his chest constricted painfully.
Behind him, the trio stood stunned.
Momo's thoughts spun rapidly.
He claimed he remembered no one, no family, no connections
And now a younger sister appears out of nowhere?
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
Why lie?
Miwa, on the other hand, visibly melted. The child's tearful grip tugged at her heart immediately.
Oh no. She's adorable.
She imagined losing her own sibling and felt her chest ache sympathetically.
Mai folded her arms, squinting at Shinji.
Suspicion simmered, or maybe irritation.
Or maybe… she just didn't like his face right now.
Shinji felt all three stares drilling into his skull.
"I-I can explain —"
"HEY!! Three ugly ducklings!!"
The insult landed like a thrown brick.
All three girls snapped their heads toward the source with identical expressions of disbelief.
They knew that voice.
That audacity.
A short distance away stood their teacher, flamboyantly waving one arm while dressed in an elegant kimono, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
Their faces went through the five stages of embarrassment in three seconds.
"Sensei?!" they exclaimed in unison.
Momo straightened immediately, regaining composure like a military commander recovering from chaos.
"We'll excuse ourselves," she said smoothly to Shinji, though her eyes lingered a fraction longer than necessary. "It appears you have… family matters."
Mai muttered, "Ugly ducklings? Really?" under her breath as she turned.
Miwa gave Shinji one last soft, confused look before following.
The three of them walked toward their teacher, half relieved to see her, half plotting revenge for the embarrassment they felt.
Soon, they were out of earshot.
And Shinji was left standing.
With the girl still holding onto him as if he might disappear.
Her sobs slowly faded.
She pulled back just enough to wipe her tears with trembling fingers.
Then she looked up at him.
And smiled.
It was warm.
Radiant.
Heartbreaking.
Shinji's breath caught.
He didn't remember her, but his heart reacted like it did.
Why?
She slipped her small hand into his and squeezed gently.
"Grandma must be so worried," she said, her voice still fragile but determined. "Come on, Onii-chan… let's go home."
Shinji looked down at their joined hands.
Warm.
Real.
His mind was still fractured.
Still drowning in fog.
But somewhere deep within—
Shinji felt something more terrifying than curses.
The fear of not knowing who he truly was.
And the unsettling possibility…
That the little girl holding his hand might know exactly who he is.