Shinkai - The Eyes That Shouldn't Exist

The grand doors shut behind Cedric with a soft, deliberate thud — a sound that echoed louder than any shout.

Kazuo remained kneeling on the cold marble floor, his hands tied behind him, legs folded beneath him in rigid silence. His wrists stung. But his mind was louder than the pain.

Setsuna stepped forward without a word.

The ropes fell free with one quick motion of the blade. No ceremony. No gloating.

"Get up," he said, already turning toward the exit.

Kazuo didn't move.

"That's it?" he muttered. "Untie me and pretend none of this is insane?"

Setsuna stopped at the doorway and glanced back over his shoulder.

"You're not in chains anymore. Might as well act like it."

Kazuo stood slowly, unsteady. He followed in silence as Setsuna led him through a quiet corridor and out into a pale sunlit courtyard. The silence stretched between them like a wire pulled too tight.

Then Setsuna spoke — calm, but edged.

"You realize that bluff could've gotten you killed."

Kazuo said nothing.

"You didn't know your Gramps was nobility, did you?" Setsuna continued. "That whole bit with the king… that wasn't a strategy. That was a gamble. You really played his game"

Kazuo's voice was quiet, but honest.

"I remembered he had violet eyes. But I never questioned it. I didn't even know they are eyes of nobility. I just… used it."

"You threw dice at a man who doesn't lose," Setsuna said sharply. "Cedric could've slit your throat right there. I hoped he wouldn't, but... I wasn't sure."

Kazuo looked sideways. "But he didn't."

"No," Setsuna said. "Because someone convinced him not to...you idiot."

A pause.

Kazuo narrowed his eyes.

"Wait… you're saying—"

Setsuna cut him off.

"Yes. I did."

Kazuo flinched.

"This whole thing was to actually save my life?"

Setsuna just smirked faintly and kept walking. They crossed into the shaded part of the courtyard, where vines crawled up polished stone walls and the breeze whispered through hanging banners.

Kazuo looked down.

"why…?"

Setsuna turned, his eyes sharper now — not cold, but focused.

"Because when I saw you down in the Hollow Veins… cornered, hunted, exhausted… you still stood your ground."

"You didn't run. You didn't beg. You fought."

"And after seeing your eyes I thought… maybe there's something in you that this system hasn't crushed yet."

A beat passed.

Kazuo blinked.

Setsuna nodded once, slowly.

"Besides, I fear something bigger might be coming our way, Kazu"

"Don't call me that. My name is Kazuo. Don't make it a nickname."

Silence fell between them again. But this time, it felt different.

Kazuo looked away, his voice lower now.

"You think I'm some kind of symbol?"

"No," Setsuna said. "I think you're something worse.""A possibility."

"And that scares people more than rebellion ever will."

Kazuo gave a faint, humorless smile.

"Great. First I'm a threat. Now I'm a possibility."

Setsuna turned away again.

"Get used to it, Kazuo. Because from now on… you don't get to be invisible."

Kazuo stopped walking.

Setsuna noticed the sudden halt and turned halfway, raising an eyebrow.

Kazuo stood still, eyes slightly wide, like something heavy had just lifted from his shoulders.

"Wait," he said quietly. "That's true… I don't have to hide anymore."

He blinked once, as if saying it made it real.

"My whole life… I was always watching my back. Keeping my hood low. Avoiding city watch patrols. And now—"His voice caught. "Gramps. Rei. I have to tell them."

Setsuna's gaze softened just slightly.

"You can't. Not yet," he said. "We both know that."

Kazuo clenched his jaw but didn't argue.

Setsuna placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Soon."

Kazuo nodded.

They walked a few more steps through the winding corridor until Setsuna opened a wooden side door leading out of the main courtyard. The guards nodded silently as they passed through into a more residential wing.

"This way," Setsuna said. "You're officially assigned to my squad now, so you get quarters near the Upper Crescent — still close to the palace, but not inside it."

They arrived at a modest yet elegant building attached to the palace by stone bridges overhead. The exterior was simpler than royal wings — darker stone, wide windows, ivy creeping over the corners. Inside, the halls were lined with warm torchlight and polished wooden floors.

Setsuna pushed open a door.

"This is yours."

The room was small, but clean. A desk by the window. A bed already made. A simple shelf. A basin near the wall. On the neatly folded bedding sat a sealed parcel and folded clothes.

"Uniform," Setsuna said.

"Wait," he said. "How did you do this so fast?" "You didn't even know I'd be part of your squad. We just walked out of the palace…"

Setsuna leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed.

"Let's just say I prepare for chaos. And you, Kazu, are the embodiment of it."

Kazuo narrowed his eyes.

"Stop calling me that."

Setsuna ignored him.

"Besides, I've had spare sets made for potential recruits. Your measurements are… more or less average. Had to guess on shoulder width."

Kazuo sighed and shook his head, unfolding the uniform fully now.

The outfit was more stylish than he expected — practical, but with an edge. A deep blue-gray jacket with subtle water-resistant fabric, tight at the waist and light across the arms for mobility. Matte black undershirt, sleeveless. Dark, tapered combat trousers and reinforced boots. At the chest, stitched cleanly into the crossed sash, was the silver emblem of the Royal Guard — a crescent crown and sword pointing downward.

And beside the boots, a pair of black gloves, fitted and fingerless — made from high-grip material.

Kazuo picked them up.

"These?"

"Grip. Blade control. Plus they make you look cooler," Setsuna said. "But mostly the grip."

Kazuo smirked faintly. He slipped them on and flexed his fingers. The fit was clean — snug, but not tight.

"I'm serious, though," he said, glancing back. "You had no guarantee I'd join your squad. You really plan this far ahead?"

Setsuna grinned.

"You think I'd let someone like you get assigned to one of the noble elitists? Please. You're trouble. Trouble stays with me."

He pointed at the corner. "Your sword's over there — next to the desk. Cleaned and repaired. You're welcome."

Kazuo blinked. He hadn't even noticed it.

"You… had that done too?"

"Didn't want you stinking and unarmed."

Kazuo turned back toward the mirror, adjusting the collar slightly, the gloves fitting snug against his palms. He caught his own reflection — unfamiliar in uniform, but somehow still him.

A version of himself not hiding.

Setsuna stepped out into the hall, then paused.

"Shower. Then take a nap. I'll pick you up this afternoon."

He started to walk, then added with a sideways glance:

"Later, you'll meet your future teammates. We need to get you in shape for the tournament"

Kazuo looked up.

"What kind of people are they?"

Setsuna gave a slow, crooked grin.

"Let's just say... they'll make you question your life choices."

"Like I had any" Kazuo muttered.

"You'll survive," Setsuna said. "Probably."

He raised two fingers in a lazy half-wave as he walked off.

"See you soon, Kazu."

"KAZUO!" Kazuo shouted after him.

But the only reply was a low laugh echoing down the corridor.

Kazuo looked back at the bed, the folded uniform, the polished sword — and finally, at the door as it clicked shut.

A breath escaped him.

He turned toward the bed, kicked off his boots, and sat down. The mattress was soft. Too soft. Like it was trying to bribe him into forgetting what had just happened.

He yawned — long, rough, eyes barely open.

"Shower can wait…"

He collapsed backward, arm draped across his forehead.

Within moments, sleep took him.

For the first time in days —no alarms, no running, no fear.

Just silence.

Just breath.

Just a door closed behind him… and a future slowly creaking open.