Morning arrived quietly.
Soft golden light slipped through the thin curtains of Kaito’s room, painting pale lines across the floor and the edge of his bed.
Outside, birds chirped in the distance, and the wind moved gently through the trees of the estate.
But Kaito was already awake.
He lay on his back staring at the ceiling, his eyes dull with exhaustion despite the full night that had passed.
Sleep had come.
Rest had not.
The memory refused to settle.
It circled back the moment Kaito opened his eyes, lingering at the edge of his thoughts before pushing its way in again.
No matter how many times he tried to brush it off, it returned in fragments—the pressure in the air, his great-grandfather’s voice, the shifting space that hadn’t felt like anything real.
And above all else, that moment.
That presence.
Kaito sat up slowly, the mattress dipping under his weight as his feet touched the cold floor.
The chill helped, a little.
It gave him something solid to focus on, something that wasn’t slipping through his fingers like everything else.
“…Freedom,” he said under his breath.
Even saying it felt strange.
The word carried weight now.
It wasn’t just a name, or an idea someone talked about.
It was something else entirely.
Something that had looked at him—or maybe through him—and decided he wasn’t worth acknowledging.
Kaito leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
He pressed his palms against his face and stayed like that for a moment, breathing slowly.
“So that wasn’t a dream.”
He let out a quiet breath, but it didn’t ease anything.
If anything, it made things worse.
Because if it wasn’t a dream, then everything that followed was real too.
The rejection.
That invisible force that had thrown him out like he didn’t belong there.
He lowered his hands and stared at the floor.
“…Yeah. That felt real enough.”
His fingers curled slightly against his knees.
A Guardian.
That’s what his great-grandfather had called it.
Something that existed beyond normal, beyond anything he could really understand.
And somehow, it had something to do with him.
Kaito frowned.
Had it really chosen him?
But what were Guardians, really?
The thought didn’t sit right.
He could still remember that moment clearly—the instant he tried to get closer, and everything turned against him.
There had been no hesitation.
No warning.
Just a sudden, overwhelming push, like he had crossed a line he wasn’t supposed to.
That didn’t feel like being chosen.
That felt like being rejected.
Kaito exhaled slowly and leaned back, supporting himself with his hands.
“…Then what am I supposed to do about it?”
No answer came.
The room stayed quiet, the morning light stretching across the floor as if nothing had changed.
But something had.
He could feel it.
And that only made the next thought hit harder than it should have.
Ren.
Kaito’s expression shifted, just slightly.
“…You too, huh.”
He let out a short breath, almost a laugh, though there wasn’t anything amusing about it.
Of all people.
Ren.
Kaito looked off to the side, his gaze unfocused.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
It wasn’t like Ren was there to answer.
Still, the silence that followed felt heavier than it should have.
Kaito rubbed the back of his neck, frowning.
They’d known each other for years.
Trained together, fought together, talked about things that didn’t matter and things that did.
There hadn’t been much they kept from each other.
At least, that’s what Kaito had always thought.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
“Was it that hard to tell me?” he muttered.
He tried to picture it from Ren’s side, but that didn’t help much.
It only made things more complicated.
Maybe Ren had his reasons.
But that didn’t stop it from bothering him.
Kaito let his head tilt back slightly, staring at the ceiling.
“…Tch.” The sound was quiet, almost absentminded.
There wasn’t any real anger behind it.
Not the kind that made you want to lash out or pick a fight.
It was something else.
Something that sat deeper and didn’t move as easily.
Confusion, maybe.
Disappointment, definitely.
And under that… something sharper, harder to ignore the more he thought about it.
Kaito sat there for a while without moving, letting the thoughts run their course.
Eventually, he pushed himself to his feet.
“…Whatever.”
The word came out low, more to himself than anything else.
Standing still wasn’t going to change anything.
If what the old man said was true, then things had already started moving.
Whether he liked it or not.
Kaito glanced toward the window, the light catching in his eyes for a brief moment.
“Guess I’ll figure it out.”
It wasn’t much of a plan.
But it was enough to start with.
Knock, knock.
The soft sound broke the silence, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Kaito-sama?”
Kaede’s voice came from the other side of the door.
Kaito didn’t respond right away.
He just sat there, staring at the floor, his thoughts still tangled.
Kaede waited patiently.
“Breakfast is ready,” she said gently.
Kaito exhaled quietly.
“…I’ll come later.”
His voice came out softer than usual, almost distant.
There was a brief pause outside.
Even through the door she could hear something was wrong.
Normally Kaito would respond with energy or teasing.
But today… There was none of that.
“…Understood,” she replied gently.
Her footsteps slowly faded down the hallway.
Kaito sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
He knew he couldn’t avoid everyone forever.
After a few minutes, he finally stood up and got dressed.
The dining room was warm and bright.
Sunlight poured through the large windows overlooking the gardens, illuminating the long wooden table where Hana and Toru were already seated.
Kaede stood nearby, calmly pouring tea.
Kaito stepped inside.
“Morning,” he said.
Hana looked up first.
Her expression softened immediately.
“Kaito,” she said gently.
Toru glanced at him as well.
Even without words, they could both see it.
And Something was weighing heavily on their son’s mind.
Kaito sat down quietly.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Only the soft clink of utensils and the sound of tea being poured filled the air.
Finally, Kaito broke the silence.
“…Father.”
Toru raised an eyebrow.
“Yes?”
Kaito hesitated.
Then he asked the question that had been stuck in his mind since yesterday.
“…How strong are Guardians?”
The room became still.
Hana and Toru exchanged a brief glance.
Toru leaned back slightly in his chair.
“That’s a difficult question,” he said calmly.
“Why?”
“Because strength isn’t the right way to measure them.”
Kaito frowned slightly.
“Then what is?”
Toru folded his hands together.
“Authority.”
Kaito blinked.
“Authority?”
Hana spoke next.
“Each Guardian embodies a concept of existence,” she explained gently.
“They are powerful because the concept they represent is essential to existence itself.”
Kaito thought about that.
Freedom.
Judgment.
Peace.
Time.
And many others.
“…So they can’t be erased because they are essential?” he asked quietly.
Toru smiled faintly.
“Everything can be resisted,” he said.
“But defeating a concept… is another matter entirely.”
Kaito stared down at his breakfast.
“…Then how am I supposed to face Freedom?” His voice carried frustration.
Hana reached over and gently placed her hand over his.
“You don’t have to face it today.”
Kaito looked up.
“You’re still only at the beginning,” she said softly.
Toru nodded.
“Your great-grandfather told us something important yesterday.”
Kaito frowned.
“What?”
“He said the fact that Freedom rejected you is not necessarily a bad sign.”
“…huh?”
“Concepts like Freedom don’t accept weak minds.”
Kaito blinked.
Toru’s eyes sharpened slightly.
“It may simply mean you’re not ready yet.”
Silence fell again.
Then Kaito slowly exhaled.
“…So I just need to get stronger.”
Toru smiled.
“That’s always a good starting point.”
For the first time that morning, a small smile appeared on Kaito’s face.
“…Yeah.”
The training field behind the estate was quiet that morning.
Dew still clung to the grass, catching the early light, and the air carried that cool, fresh smell that only came right after sunrise.
Kaito rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms, trying to shake off the stiffness.
“Alright…”
He tilted his head from side to side, a faint crack following.
“Let’s actually do something productive today.”
He dropped to the ground and started with push-ups.
At first, it felt easy.
One.
Two.
Three.
But by the time he passed eight hundred, his arms were already starting to shake.
“…Why does this feel harder today?”
Still, he kept going.
After that came pull-ups, then sword swings—one after another, without pause.
The wooden blade cut through the air again and again, the sound sharp and repetitive.
Sweat began to drip down his forehead, his breathing growing heavier with each passing minute.
By the time nearly 2 hours had gone by, his arms felt like they were made of lead.
Kaito let himself fall back onto the grass with a groan.
“Ugh…”
He stared up at the bright blue sky, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“…This is exhausting.”
For a moment, he just lay there, trying to catch his breath.
“Why couldn’t my Guardian be something useful…” he muttered under his breath.
“…Like the Guardian of Naps?”
He sighed dramatically, letting his arm fall over his face.
“That would’ve been way better.”
The wind drifted through the trees, rustling the leaves softly above him.
“…I wish I could just go into my mind and beat Freedom already.”
The image of it flickered through his thoughts—some vague, overwhelming presence.
He imagined himself charging at it.
Punching it.
Winning.
Then he let out a quiet groan.
“…Yeah, right. I’d probably just get thrown out again.”
A small laugh escaped him, but it didn’t last long.
Before he knew it, Ren’s face surfaced in his mind.
Kaito sat up slowly, the lightness from before fading.
“…Ren.”
If Ren was a Guardian too…Then he must have already met his.
Considering the kind of person Ren was.
Maybe he understood everything already.
And maybe he was already ahead.
Kaito closed his eyes, his expression tightening slightly.
“…Then I can’t just lie around like this.”
He took a slow, steady breath.
Then another.
And gradually, he stilled his body, letting himself sink into meditation.
The world around him seemed to quiet down.
The wind softened while distant sounds faded.
For a brief moment, everything felt calm.
Then—Splash.
Cold water hit his face.
Kaito’s eyes flew open instantly.
“WHAT?!”
He jumped slightly and wiped his face, water dripping down his chin.
A familiar laugh echoed across the training field.
A few meters away stood Ren.
Grinning.
Small droplets of water floated lazily around him, gently orbiting his body like playful spirits.
“Yo, Kaito.”
Kaito froze for a second, then slowly turned his head, staring at Ren in disbelief.
“…Did you just throw water at me?”
Ren tilted his head slightly, pretending to think about it.
“…Technically,” he said after a moment, “the water threw itself.”
Kaito blinked.
“…Ren.”
“Yeah?” Ren asked in a playful tone.
“You’re unbelievably annoying.”
Ren just laughed and walked over, dropping onto the grass beside him like he didn’t have a care in the world.
He stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back, looking completely relaxed.
“I couldn’t help it,” he said.
“You looked like some old monk trying to figure out the meaning of life.”
Kaito wiped the remaining water from his face, clearly not amused.
“I was meditating.”
Ren slowly turned his head toward him, giving him a long, skeptical look.
“…You?”
Kaito’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes. Me.”
Ren held that stare for a second longer—
Then burst out laughing.
“HAHAHA— wait, no— you’re serious?!”
“HEY!”
Kaito immediately grabbed a clump of grass and threw it at him.
“I can meditate!”
Ren brushed it off, still laughing, even wiping at the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure you can.”
Kaito crossed his arms and looked away with an annoyed huff, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
For a moment, the two of them just sat there in the sunlight, the earlier tension replaced by something lighter, something familiar.
The breeze drifted gently through the trees, rustling the leaves above them.
It felt normal.
Familiar.
Like nothing had changed.
For a moment, it almost felt like old times again.
Ren glanced over at Kaito, watching him quietly.
“…It seems like you’ve been training a lot.”
Kaito shrugged, leaning back on his hands.
“Just trying to keep up.”
Ren’s gaze shifted across the training field, the worn patches of grass, the faint sword marks carved into the dirt, the deep footprints left behind from repeated drills.
“…Looks like more than just trying.”
Kaito didn’t respond right away.
He just stared ahead for a moment, his fingers pressing lightly into the ground.
“I kind of have to,” he said eventually.
Ren raised an eyebrow.
“Have to?”
Kaito hesitated.
The lightness in his expression slowly faded, replaced by something more serious.
“…A lot changed yesterday.”
Ren didn’t interrupt.
He just watched him, sensing the shift.
The relaxed atmosphere between them began to thin out, replaced by something quieter, heavier.
After a moment, Kaito spoke again.
“…Ren.”
“Yeah?”
Kaito took a small breath before looking over at him.
“…Can I ask you something?”
Ren straightened slightly, picking up on the shift in Kaito’s tone almost immediately.
Kaito didn’t answer right away.
His gaze dropped to the grass beneath him, fingers brushing lightly against it as if buying time.
For a few seconds, he just stayed like that, quiet, thinking.
Then he finally spoke.
“…Are you a Guardian?”
The words hung in the air.
Everything seemed to still.
Even the wind, which had been drifting lazily through the field, felt like it had gone quiet.
Ren froze.
The easy smile on his face faded little by little, replaced by something more serious.
“…So you figured it out.”
Kaito’s hand tightened slightly into a fist.
“You were going to tell me… right?”
Ren let out a small breath, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“…Yeah.”
Kaito’s eyes narrowed just a little.
“When did you awaken?”
Ren hesitated, then answered anyway.
“…About two months ago.”
Kaito’s head snapped toward him.
“Two months?!”
Ren raised both hands quickly, as if trying to calm things down.
“Hey, wait—listen—”
“You knew for two months and didn’t say anything?!”
“I was trying to understand it first!” Ren shot back, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
“You know how insane this Guardian stuff is!”
Kaito didn’t respond right away.
Ren exhaled slowly, his tone softening as he continued.
“And then things just… got busy. I thought I’d tell you once everything settled down.”
Kaito looked at him for a long moment, searching his face.
“…So you just forgot to tell your best friend?”
Ren winced.
“…Okay, when you put it like that, yeah… I sound pretty bad.”
Kaito held his gaze for a second longer.
Then he let out a quiet sigh.
“…I’m not mad.”
Ren blinked, surprised.
“…You’re not?”
Kaito shook his head, his expression easing slightly.
“I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me.”
Ren’s expression softened a little.
“…Yeah.”
For a brief moment, he looked down, almost as if searching for the right words.
Then he let out a quiet breath and extended his hand.
“Sorry, man.”
Kaito glanced at it, hesitating for only a second before reaching out and gripping it firmly.
“…Just don’t do it again.”
Ren’s lips curved into a small grin.
“Deal.”
They let go, and just like that, the tension between them faded.
The air felt lighter, easier.
After a moment, Kaito tilted his head slightly.
“So… which Guardian chose you?”
Ren leaned back on his hands, a hint of pride showing on his face.
“Judgment.”
Kaito blinked.
“…You mean the embodiment of Judgment?”
“Yep.”
A low whistle escaped Kaito.
“…That sounds terrifying.”
Ren let out a quiet laugh.
“That’s exactly what I thought.”
Kaito shifted, lying back beside him as he stared up at the open sky.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
“Have you met it yet?” he asked.
Ren shook his head.
“Nope.”
Kaito turned his head toward him.
“What? Why not?”
Ren shrugged, clearly unimpressed.
“Apparently, I’m ‘not ready’ yet.”
Kaito snorted.
“So even the Guardian of Judgment is judging you.”
Ren groaned.
“That joke was terrible.”
“It was accurate.”
They both laughed, the sound carrying easily through the quiet air.
For a while, they just talked about Guardians, about how strange everything had suddenly become, about how ridiculous it felt that two normal kids were now tied to concepts that sounded like they belonged in legends.
It still didn’t feel real.
Then the air behind them shifted.
A faint ripple passed through it, like the surface of water disturbed by an unseen force.
Slowly, two figures took shape, their forms forming from flowing currents that twisted and settled into something human.
Kaito recognized them immediately.
Ren’s bodyguards.
The moment they appeared, Ren’s posture changed.
The relaxed boy from a second ago disappeared without a trace, replaced by someone calmer, more composed, someone who carried himself differently.
One of the water figures stepped forward and bowed slightly.
“Ren-sama”
Ren glanced over his shoulder.
“…Already?”
His bodyguard gave a quiet nod.
“Yes. It’s time.”
Kaito frowned, a bit caught off guard.
“You’re leaving? Already?”
Ren pushed himself to his feet, brushing the dirt from his clothes.
“…Yeah.”
Kaito stood as well, still processing it.
“But you just got here.”
Ren hesitated for a second, then gave a small, apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry but I probably won’t be able to visit for a while.”
Kaito’s shoulders dropped slightly.
“…Why?”
Ren looked past him, toward the horizon stretching out beyond the village.
For a moment, he didn’t answer.
“There are things I need to take care of,” he said finally.
“Training… responsibilities… figuring out this whole Guardian thing. You know how it is.”
His voice sounded different—more serious than Kaito had ever heard it before.
Kaito got it.
He didn’t need more explanation.
“…Right,” he said quietly.
Ren glanced back at him, something lighter returning to his expression.
“But hey.”
Kaito looked up, still caught between annoyance and curiosity.
“You should keep training too.”
That earned him a look.
“Oh?”
A hint of mischief slipped into Ren’s face, familiar enough to ease the tension a little.
“Because next time I come back…” He paused, as if weighing the words, then met Kaito’s eyes.
“I want a proper fight.”
Kaito didn’t answer right away, but the change in him was obvious.
The hesitation from earlier disappeared, replaced by something sharper.
He straightened, folding his arms with a small scoff.
“Is that so?” he said.
“Careful what you wish for.”
Ren let out a quiet laugh.
“I am.”
Behind him, the air shifted.
The water gathered around his bodyguards stirred, slow at first, then more deliberate, circling as though it had a will of its own.
It caught the light in brief flashes before rising slightly off the ground.
Kaito glanced at it, then back at Ren.
“Still showing off, huh?”
“Only a little.”
Kaito shook his head, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Don’t blame me when it backfires. I won’t go easy on you next time.”
“I’d be disappointed if you did.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The space between them felt different now, stretched by something unspoken.
Then the water surged upward, swallowing the figures in a sudden rush.
And just like that, they were gone.
The field settled into silence, the kind that feels heavier after someone leaves.
The wind moved through the grass, soft and steady, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Kaito stayed where he was, staring at the empty spot.
He didn’t move for a while.
“…Tch.”
He exhaled through his nose and looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers once before curling them into a fist.
“I’ll get stronger,” he said quietly.
The words didn’t carry far, but he didn’t need them to.
After a moment, he lifted his gaze toward the horizon, where Ren had disappeared.
“Next time…” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, “I won’t be the one trying to keep up.”