Shinkai - The Eyes That Shouldn't Exist

That night, Kazuo couldn't sleep.

Not because of the usual reasons — the heat, the guards yelling in the streets, or Rei snoring like a dying boar.

No, this was different.

The girl's face lingered in his mind.

Those sharp, observant eyes.

The way she didn't just see him, but recognized him.

That wasn't chance.

And she was royalty.

The emblem on that carriage had been unmistakable.

A blue star within a silver ring — the seal of House Cedric.

He lay on his back atop their rooftop, staring at the fractured stars above.

The cat curled beside his arm stirred but didn't open its eye. It was used to his restlessness.

Kazuo turned the pendant between his fingers.

"Gramps," he whispered, "what am I?"

No answer came, of course.

The wind only offered its quiet hush.

He remembered something Gramps had said not long ago, after Kazuo asked what he'd be if he weren't… this.

"You'd still be Kazuo. That's all you need to be. The rest is noise and fear."

But the world didn't treat him like "just Kazuo."

They saw his green eye and flinched.

They looked at him like he wasn't real — or worse, like he shouldn't be.

He didn't want to be a warrior.

He didn't want a throne or a banner.

He wanted something terrifyingly simple:

A quiet life.

A real one.

No hiding. No collars. No tests. Just a home.

Far below the city, past rusted gates and tunnels long swallowed by stone and time, something ancient stirred.

Beneath Yurelda's foundations — deeper than the slave tunnels and forgotten libraries — was a ruin lost to all but a few.

Its floor was broken.

The ceiling had long since collapsed.

But at the chamber's heart stood a pedestal of blackened stone, and carved into it:

A lotus.

But not any lotus.

It was upside down — its petals cracked, the center split open like a wound.

For years, it had been dormant.

Now, it pulsed.

Once. Faintly.

Then again — brighter.

Footsteps echoed in the darkness.

A cloaked figure approached the lotus.

They said no words.

But their eyes — strange, glinting — held a knowing light.

They touched the symbol gently.

And the cave beneath Yurelda opened.

Kazuo sat on the rooftop, arms draped over his knees, watching the sky shift from gray to gold.

The cat curled beside him stirred once, then settled back down, tail twitching.

He should've still been asleep.

But something had woken him.

Not a noise.

A feeling.

Peace.

That word again.

It kept echoing in his chest like a bruise he couldn't rub away.

But even now, with dawn rising slow and soft, Kazuo knew the truth:

If the royals — if House Cedric — ever found out he exists,

Peace would be the first thing they took from him.

It always was.

He stood, dusted himself off, and slipped away before Rei woke.

The alley behind the bakery was already busy.

Workers hauled sacks of flour, and steam hissed from half-sunken ovens.

A boy with dust-colored hair looked up, blinked at Kazuo, and disappeared inside without a word.

Kazuo kept walking.

He descended the iron staircase that snaked below the Crescent — into the belly of the city.

Here, walls wept moisture and even rats knew better than to linger.

Few people came down unless they had secrets or scars.

He knocked once, twice, pause — then a third time.

The wooden door creaked open.

"Come in, boy," said the familiar voice.

Inside smelled like ink, rust, and rain.

Scrolls were stacked in chaotic towers.

One perched dangerously on the back of a worn kettle.

A book lay open across an old cat statue, half-covered in candle wax.

Gramps sat at his desk, coat draped over one shoulder, goggles propped above his sharp violet-flecked eyes.

His beard was neater than Kazuo remembered. Everything else was exactly the same.

He didn't look up.

"Still stirring puddles, are we?"

Kazuo stepped inside. "How did you know?."

"Because I raised you."

Kazuo sank into the chair across from him.

Gramps finally looked over the page.

"How's your control?"

"Getting better," Kazuo said. "Still... twitchy."

"That's because you're still scared of it. Water's not your enemy. It's your reflection. If you flinch, so does it."

"I'm not scared."

"Of the power? Maybe not." Gramps narrowed his eyes. "Of what happens when they find out? Definitely."

Kazuo didn't respond. He didn't need to.

Gramps leaned back, exhaling through his nose.

"You've done well. You've trained. You're stronger than you were."

Kazuo met his eyes. "Strong enough?"

"No such thing," Gramps said. "But maybe smart enough to survive."

They sat in silence as the kettle clicked off in the corner.

Then softly, Gramps added,

"You still dreaming of that quiet life?"

Kazuo looked down at his hands.

"Every damn day."

"Then keep your head low and don't stir up more puddles"

And somewhere in the royal palace…a girl with silver hair whispered,"Those eyes..."