Shinkai - The Eyes That Shouldn't Exist

He called to the element he knew best.

"Water Magic: Torrent!"

Water surged from the gutters in a spiraling wave, crashing forward with violent force. The attacker barely had time to brace before the blast flung him into a crate of spice sacks. A relic clattered from his hand, sparked, and died.

The street fell silent.

Steam hissed up from the drenched stone as Kazuo lowered his blade.Whispers bloomed instantly.

"He used magic."

"In the open?"

"Did you see his eyes?"

Rei appeared at his side. "We need to go. Now."

Kazuo didn't argue. He sheathed his sword, yanked his hood low, and vanished into the thick of the crowd.The summoned water slid back into the gutters, leaving no trace.

But the city — old, cruel, and always watching — seemed to twitch, as if it had seen something it couldn't unsee.

They didn't speak until they reached the lower terrace — a jagged street carved between collapsed towers and forgotten archways, where moss crept up rusted walls and everything smelled faintly of damp stone.

Rei finally broke the silence. "Okay," he exhaled. "That guy was either a mugger with government hobbies… or someone officially wants you dead."

Kazuo didn't answer.

"You're bleeding," Rei added. "Just saying."

"I noticed."

"And you used Torrent. In public."

Kazuo stopped walking.

The alley around them was quiet. Laundry lines swayed overhead. Somewhere behind a wall, a water pipe hissed like a warning.

"I didn't have a choice," Kazuo muttered.

Rei nodded slowly.

Rei nodded slowly. "Yeah, but people saw. That girl from the carriage... she looked straight at you."

Kazuo glanced at him, tense. "What about her?"

"I don't know, man. She seemed... noble. Real noble. Maybe even from House Cedric."

Kazuo's eyes narrowed.

Rei added, "What if she sent that attacker? Or told someone who did?"

Kazuo muttered, "Perfect. Just what I needed — a noble girl with a front-row seat."

"I'm just saying maybe she really did see—"

"Damn it, Rei," Kazuo snapped. "What now? Flee the city? You think I haven't thought of that?"

Rei backed off, hands raised. "I'm just talking."

Kazuo's voice was bitter now. "Leaving Yurelda without permission means they track you. Every registered gate is laced with elemental seals. The system knows what enters and what leaves. Unauthorized exits get you flagged. Hunted. Maybe killed."

A long pause.

Then, more quietly: "I never had the option to leave. Not really. Not with these eyes."

Rei looked down.

"I just wanted something simple," Kazuo went on, softer now. "Peace. A job. Maybe a cat."

"Well," Rei said, trying to inject levity, "you have the cat."

Kazuo gave a hollow laugh.

"Let's go," he said. "We need to see Gramps."

They took the back routes — old drainage channels that slithered beneath the textile quarter. Rats watched them pass, their eyes like wet coins. The walls were smeared with old chalk glyphs: street spells, prayers, half-erased warnings.

By the time they reached the rusted steel door, dusk had fallen.

Kazuo knocked once, twice, pause, then once more.

The door opened fast.

"You ran," Gramps said flatly.

"I was attacked," Kazuo replied, stepping inside.

"Figured." Gramps shut the door with a heavy click. "Whole quarter's buzzing. City doesn't forget magic easily."

Rei wandered into the cluttered room, eyeing the towers of scrolls and strange brass tools stacked like unstable ruins.

Kazuo pulled off his gloves, still damp. "Someone tried to brand me. Underground type. I didn't think. I just reacted."

Gramps didn't flinch. "Good. Thinking slows you down when instinct's right."

"You're not mad?"

Gramps gave him a look over his glasses. "Boy, if I'm mad, it's only that you didn't hit harder."

Kazuo sat on a stool, dragging a hand through his hair. "I'll wear an eyepatch. It's fine."

"Yeah, brilliant plan," Gramps muttered, already heading toward a drawer. "Because nothing says 'I'm suspicious' like obviously hiding something."

He hesitated there.

Just stood in front of the drawer for a moment, hand hovering.

Then he sighed.

"…Wait."

Gramps opened the drawer slowly and returned with a folded cloth — old, worn, held carefully in both hands.

He set it on the table between them.

"I've kept this since the day I found you."

Kazuo frowned. "What is it?"

Gramps unfolded the cloth.

Inside lay a medallion. Dull. Etched with a strange symbol Kazuo didn't recognize. Simple — but unmistakably old.

Rei leaned forward. "You've had that all this time?"

Gramps nodded without looking up. "Wrapped around you. In the cradle. There was nothing else."

Kazuo picked it up, turning it between his fingers. "Why now?"

Gramps looked at him — really looked at him.

"Because I thought maybe, in the end… it wasn't important. Maybe you'd never need it."

He exhaled slowly.

"I knew this day would eventually come, but it's so soon"

Kazuo's brows furrowed.

Gramps's voice was quiet. Firm.

"You need to leave."