"Hello, Takumi Kage. You can address me as Niko Tamura," said a woman seated across from Takumi on a dark leather couch.
Her office was minimally decorated, the only flourish being a wide window that allowed a shaft of warm sunlight to bathe the room in a calm, golden hue. Ms. Tamura sat comfortably in a high-backed chair, her posture relaxed but alert. The chair's leather seemed to conform to her form, as if it had been molded by long hours of patient listening.
She was tall for a woman of Japanese descent, standing at about 5'8", with shoulder-length black hair and soft bangs brushed neatly to one side. Bronze-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, framing intelligent, deep brown eyes that held a practiced calm. She exuded professionalism without coldness, warmth without intrusion. Her smile was polite, measured, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. It was a familiar mask: enough to suggest openness, but cautious enough to establish boundaries.
"Or Ms. Tamura, if you prefer," she added, her voice smooth and mature, with a kind cadence. She embodied the quiet presence of someone who had listened to pain for many years without letting it consume her.
"Takumi Kage. You can just call me Takumi, Ms. Tamura," the boy replied, showing little emotion beyond boredom.
"Flat effect. Disengaged tone. Possibly defensive neutrality, doesn't want to give me too much, but not trying to be combative. Standard adolescent reservation, especially those brought in by concerned parents rather than coming by choice. Possibly more than that." Ms.Tamura noted in her mind.
He had agreed without hesitation to meet with this "therapist." He didn't understand what therapists did. His parents explained it was a kind of doctor like the healer on Zebc, but for the mind rather than the body. That confused him. How could just talking help your mental state? It sounded like the confessional booths at the Church of Atlas, where people confess their deepest sins. He never saw the point in those either, but the Church was a major institution in Zebec.
Ultimately, he didn't care. He'd come for an hour every Sunday, do what he needed to do, and move on. In nine months, he'd be a Border agent. That was all that mattered. He'd do what he had to do to reach his goal.
"Well, Takumi, I've been filled in on your rather unique situation. But before we begin, do you have any questions for me?" she asked.
The dirty blond-haired boy simply shook his head.
As she spoke, she monitored his posture, his gaze, and his breath. He remained largely unmoved, stoic.
"Alright then. Your parents brought you to me because they're concerned about your behavior. They understand you're a different person from who you were before, quite literally. But that's not the issue. According to them, on your first day back at school, you got into a fight with a kid who, by your mother's account, dragged you into a restricted zone, causing you to be in such a critical state. You've also been distant from your family, skipping dinners and isolating yourself. But most of all, they're worried about your obsession with joining Border." She paused, glancing at her notes. "Granted, I'm paraphrasing."
She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. When he offered none, she continued.
"Do you have anything to say about any of this?"
"Not really. I can't say they're wrong," he said flatly. "There's not much to add."
" Minimal engagement. No deflection or denial. Either sees these actions as justified or not worth defending. That's important."
She jotted a note discreetly: Emotional detachment, Potential dissociation from emotional triggers.
"Alright then. Let's pick one topic and discuss it," she suggested.
Takumi shrugged. Ms. Tamura didn't seem discouraged by his passiveness.
"Why are you so determined to join Border? Determined enough to push away your family?"
Takumi shifted in his seat, preparing himself. He had answered this question more times than he cared to count.
"Because I have to," he said, like it was routine.
She heard the script-like quality in his tone. It was rehearsed. A protective response. Automatic.
"But why, Takumi? Why does it feel like a need instead of a want?" she pressed gently.
He hesitated. Ms. Tamura watched the moment stretch. Hesitation, for her, was data. It meant he was choosing between what he thought he should say and what he truly wanted to say.
"Takumi, everything said in this room is protected by confidentiality. Not even your parents are allowed to know what's discussed here. This is a safe space to speak freely."
He sighed, tired of this entire process.
"Because something was taken from me, someone important. And the person who did it is still out there. Border is just a means to an end. It'll give me the tools I need to complete my goal. I won't, no. I can't rest until he knows I've destroyed everything he stands for."
Ms. Tamura maintained a neutral expression as he spoke. She couldn't afford to show judgment, not even accidentally. Her job was to hold space for whatever her patients carried, and Takumi carried a great deal of hatred.
"Strong revenge motivation. Persistent fixation. Signs of unresolved trauma. Possible moral injury. He is not processing loss, he is externalizing it into vengeance." Ms.Tamura jotted down as she thought.
Unconsciously, he leaned forward, his hands clasped together, trembling. His eyes hardened like steel. His voice rose in intensity with each word.
"Somatic leakage," she noted. "His body reveals the emotion he won't admit to consciously."
"So much anger," she thought, quietly writing it down. "Controlled, but powerful. That restraint? Not apathy, it's armor. He's holding back a dam of grief and rage."
"Takumi, would you like to share who this person is? The one you intend to take revenge on?" she asked gently.
"No," he replied curtly. Boundary draw.
"Hmm," she hummed. His pledge for vengeance didn't surprise her. It wasn't uncommon for children affected by trauma to resent the Neighbors, but not disclosing the source of his pain was unusual.
"Takumi, are you referring to the Neighbors? It's not uncommon for kids who've endured what you have to harbor resentment and want to confront them."
Takumi considered her question. Despite how he had been acting lately, reckless, brash, that wasn't who he truly was. In the Underborne, impulsiveness got you killed.
"Basically," he replied. Avoidant. But not dishonest. There's something more specific behind that answer.
Ms. Tamura didn't fully believe that was the whole truth, but for now, it was enough. She pivoted.
"Is that why you've been working out excessively? Your parents say it's bordering on obsession. If you're not exercising, you're studying. No extracurricular activities, no breaks. Just preparation."
"That's true," he admitted. "But I don't think I'm obsessed. I just…" Takumi trailed off into his thoughts. Tamura peeped the silence into deep thought and made a mental note of it all.
" I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try. For my friends. For my home. For Euphy." Takumi said in his head, Ms.Tamura noted the silence, and tried to move the subject to a different place.
"Do you have any hobbies or interests that aren't related to Border or your goal?" she asked, pushing him to reflect.
Takumi paused.
He studied because it helped convince his parents to let him join Border earlier. He'd read that book about Japanese sword history, but that was before everything, and he'd been bored out of his mind. Now, everything he did was about vengeance. And honestly, that's how he preferred it.
"No, not really. But I don't see that as a bad thing."
Ms. Tamura nodded and made another note.
"Total identity fusion with goal. Risk of burnout. No cognitive space for joy, relief, or alternative selfhood. That's dangerous."
"Tell me, Takumi, when you achieve your revenge, what will you do after that? Do you have any long-term plans?"
"That depends on how long it takes."
"Okay, let's say you succeed at age twenty-one. What would you do with the rest of your life?" she pressed.
Takumi opened his mouth, but no words came.
"What would I do?" he wondered.
His posture slouched as he sank back into the couch, lost in thought.
"Honestly… I don't know."
The question didn't feel right to him. How could he think about the future? His future when so many others, including the people he cared about, couldn't have one? How could he dream when the ones who trusted him were gone? He understood one person couldn't when a war, but that didn't take the sour taste out of his mouth. Eupthy gave him this life. He has every reason he owes it to her and to everyone to end Aftokrafter.
"Alright, Takumi," Ms. Tamura said, checking the time briefly. "We're nearing the end of today's session, but before we finish, I want to establish a few expectations moving forward."
She kept her tone calm and direct, eyes meeting his with steady professionalism.
"First, as you may be aware, your application to Border following your fourteenth birthday is contingent, at least in part, on the progress observed during these sessions. This isn't intended as leverage, but it is an important context for the work we're doing together. Your participation and engagement matter."
She noted his minimal response, a quiet nod.
"Second, based on our interaction so far, it seems you're someone who responds best to structure and actionable steps. Is that a fair assessment?"
"Yes," he replied plainly.
"Good. In that case, I'd like to outline three specific goals for you to begin working on between now and our next session."
She listed them methodically, holding up one finger at a time:
"One: I'd like you to consider what your life might look like afteryou've achieved your current goal, joining Border, or otherwise completing whatever mission you believe you're on. Take time to reflect on who you might be beyond that endpoint."
"Two: I'd like you to identify one hobby or activity that is unrelated to your goals regarding Border or personal retaliation. The purpose here is to begin cultivating a broader sense of identity and emotional flexibility."
"Three: I encourage you to make a new social connection, ideally with a peer. This doesn't need to be an emotionally deep bond, but simply an effort to engage outside of your current isolative patterns."
She paused before concluding.
"These objectives are not tests. They're opportunities to explore aspects of yourself that may have been neglected or overshadowed by recent experiences. We'll revisit them next over these nine months and assess how they're developing."
Ms. Tamura offered a final professional nod, then gathered her notes.
"That will be all for today. I'll see you next session, Takumi."
The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.
" Ok, class, remember to read chapters 16,17, and 18 so you can be prepared for your chemistry test. Ok, class, see you on Monday." The teacher finished dismissing the class.
The student began packing the bag, excited for the weekend to begin. Takumi lifted his back on his shoulder, ready to go. He moved his hair out of his vision, his finger fiddling with it.
"My hair is truly getting out of hand," Takumi thought. He tucked his long bangs behind his ear and made his way outside the classroom.
"Hey stranger," Aiko said, standing outside his classroom. Her posture was relaxed as she leaned on the wall. Mild surprise and curiosity graced his face at the appearance of his sister.
Aiko looked over her little brother, she soaked him in for who he his now. She still didn't like that he was taller than her, even if by one inch, but he had matured a lot too, in a different way. His frame now filled up his uniform better. He had his black blazer unbuttoned and his white dress shirt untucked, but his yellow and black striped tie sat perfectly around his neck.
" he must be trying to seem cooler." Aiko cringes at her thought.
" What are you doing here?" Takumi spoke nonchalantly.
" Your hair is getting long, yuyu," Aiko said, fiddling with his hair. Takumi just averted his gaze. Takumi's hair now reached his mid-back, with his bangs going further than his chin.
"Tell me about, I'm gonna cut." Takumi declared, which saddened Aiko for a bit.
"But I like your new look. You looked like a girly version of dad," Aiko said, trying to stifle of laugh at Takumi's reaction.
" Stop teasing me. What do you want?" Takumi said, hiding his fluster well.
" Did you get my text?" Aiko said as someone walked between the siblings.
Takumi's face took on an expression of confusion.
"Do you know your phone can be used for long-distance communication, right?" Aiko dangled her phone in her brother's face, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Of course I know," Takumi bitterly thought as he checked his phone, looking at Aiko's text. Takumi felt something shift in the air, and without out his eyes leaving his hand, instinctively went to grab. Takumi looked at his hand to find the keys in his hand. Aiko paused for a second and squinted her eye at her little brother, but resumed shortly to what she had planned to say.
" Here you go, you're walking by yourself today, I have prelims today, and Miyu has gymnastics practice. Mom texted me that she already picked up Miyu, so don't die or any ok." Aiko finished her sentence. But she didn't leave, like she was waiting for something.
"What?" Takumi asked, confused.
" OK!?" Aiko reiterated her point. Takumi just rolled his eyes at her response but gave in anyway.
"Ok," Takumi said.
" Ok, their should be food in the fridge, don't eat my snack you fat ass," Aiko said while walking away satisfied. So the sibling part drifted into the flow of the crowd.
Takumi, mindless, made his way out of the school, lost in thought. He had what they would call on Zebc a symbol, a special ability given to almost all soldiers of the Zebc produced by the trion gland. It was signified by just that, a symbol.
Takumi's symbol was an eye in the middle of his chest, but he has yet to find that symbol on his body. But it was clear he had the ability, the movement, that sensation was undeniable. But he didn't have it, which was strange, but ultimately, this whole situation was strange to him. So he simply decided just to be thankful for the blessing and move on.
" Oshida!" he heard a voice bring him out of his thoughts.
" Osomu?" Takumi mutters. It sounded close, so he followed the sound.
The voice led him around the corner.
What he found stopped him cold.
Osamu was on the ground, clutching his ribs, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. Oshida struggled nearby, pinned against the wall by one of Eida's new lackeys. The three original bullies: Eida, Bito, and Shihara, stood smirking like jackals, but now they had backup. Three older-looking boys, whom Takumi didn't recognize, probably from another class, maybe even another school. Thugs.
Six against two.
No, six against none.
Because neither of them could fight back.
Takumi's eyes locked onto Osamu's face. Blood at the corner of his lip. Oshida kicked weakly, trying to break free. The boy holding him just chuckled.
Takumi exhaled through his nose.
On one hand, this wasn't his problem, but on another he really did hate bullies.
He walked.
One step at a time. Calm. Focused.
Like a soldier walking back onto the battlefield.
Eida glanced up, expression flickering. "Well, look who it is."
Takumi said nothing. His eyes swept the six boys like he was analyzing parts of a broken machine. Assessing what would need to be torn out. He didn't even stop walking.
"Thought you'd crawl away like you did after that ass-kicking," Bito sneered.
"You want another round?" Shihara barked, grinning.
Takumi stopped. Five feet from them.
Still silent.
Aiko's keys jingled in his pocket with every step. His uniform tie sat crooked on his chest as he loosened it.
"Let them go." Takumi's voice came low. Measured. Like ice settling into a glass.
One of the older boys laughed. "This is your bodyguard now?" he said, jerking his chin toward Oshida.
Takumi's eyes flicked to him. Just a glance.
Then his fist shot forward.
Crack!
The boy staggered back, nose bent sideways, blood spurting down his lip. Takumi stepped forward again, his posture squared.
The fight had started.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Just motion.
The second goon lunged at him, stockier, clumsier. Takumi ducked low, grabbed the front of the boy's uniform, and used his momentum against him. One fluid toss, and the guy slammed into the side of a vending machine with a thunk and collapsed.
Two down.
"Don't just stand there, get him!" Eida shouted.
Takumi turned his head slightly, catching the third goon rushing from the side with a bat raised high. A classic.
Takumi didn't run.
Didn't flinch.
He waited.
Then he stepped in.
The bat came down, a simple side step did the job, no wasted movement in sight. On Takumi other hand, he drove a punch straight into the guy's gut, folding him in half. Then a knee to the jaw.
The bat clattered to the ground.
Three down.
Silence gripped the small courtyard behind the school, broken only by the whisper of the wind, and Eida's low, maddened chuckle echoing like a warning.
Takumi stood still.
He felt it again.
That sensation.
He closed his eyes for a second, letting it all sink in.
Like the world had slowed just for him.
From the moment he was born again to now, he felt something very familiar.
Battle.
From the moment he gained consciousness, he always had to fight. A new battlefield field a new threat to face.
Takumi Kage like Aiger Concella was always who he's been.
A fighter.
The air around him whispered before every movement, every twitch, every attack.
His chest burned, not from pain, but from recognition.
He didn't need to see the symbol. He could feel it.
The rhythm. The memory.
Aiger's power hadn't died with Zebc.
It lived.
It lived in him.
"You ready?" Takumi said, barely above a whisper, but the weight in his words made Eida's jaw tighten.
He won't lose this time
Eida stepped forward. "I'm done playing with you."
"Then stop talking."
They clashed.
Eida moved fast, his kickboxing training obvious. A high roundhouse screamed toward Takumi's head.
He ducked. Slipped it like wind curling around stone.
A jab came. He swayed to the side.
Another. Takumi deflected it with the back of his arm and stepped in with a body shot, clean to Eida's ribs. The impact echoed with a satisfying thump.
"Is that it?" Eida snarled.
Takumi didn't answer.
He kicked low, sweeping Eida's leg, but Eida jumped, landing cleanly and returning fire with a spinning elbow.
Takumi leaned back, but the edge of the blow grazed his chin. Pain bloomed, but his footing held.
Out of the corner of his eye, movement.
Bito.
Charging.
Takumi shifted his weight.
Bito's fist came fast, a wide hook aiming for Takumi's temple.
Takumi twisted with it, absorbing some of the force, letting it slide off, then drove his elbow backward into Bito's sternum.
"Ghhrk!"
Bito stumbled.
Takumi stepped forward, planting his heel into Bito's chest with a push kick that sent him skidding.
Three still stood.
Shihara. Eida. Bito.
Takumi rolled his shoulders.
Face bruised. Lip cut.
But his breath?
Steady.
Focused.
"I thought," Takumi muttered, spitting blood to the side, "you said you were done playing with." A slight grin graced Takumi's face.
Shihara growled, rushing, picking up the bat with his charge. He swung.
Takumi ducked.
The metal barely missed his head. Takumi surged forward and threw his shoulder into Shihara's gut, toppling him onto a table. With practiced precision, Takumi grabbed his collar and yanked him forward into a brutal headbutt.
Shihara slumped.
Then—
"NOW!" Eida barked.
Takumi turned, too late.
Bito was behind him. Again.
But just like before, when his mind faltered, his body moved on instinct, carrying the weight his thoughts couldn't.
A punch slammed into Takumi's elbow. A sickening crack was heard from Bito's hand.
He screamed in pain
Eida leapt in with a flying knee.
Takumi blocked, but barely. The impact rocked him.
Pain blurred.
But Takumi didn't fall.
He moved.
A punch from Bito, Takumi ducked. A knee from Eida, Takumi twisted. He dropped low, sweeping both legs outward, catching them in their ankles. Both boys fell like dominoes.
Takumi landed on one knee.
Then rose.
Shaking.
But smiling.
"Like I said before," he said. "I despise cowards. Get up."
They scrambled to their feet. The hate in their eyes burned.
Bito came first.
Takumi dodged, countered with a jab to the nose.
Shihara rushed with the bat again.
Takumi caught it mid-swing, ripped it from his hands, and slammed it into his head.
Then Eida.
Takumi knew this rhythm now.
Eida's kick, predictable.
Takumi blocked.
Eida's punch, slower.
Takumi caught it.
Spun.
Countered.
CRACK!
A knee to the chin.
Eida collapsed.
Bito roared, charging.
Takumi raised the bat, flung it like a discus.
It slammed into Bito's face. He dropped.
Silence.
Six boys. All down.
Takumi stood alone in the center of the circle.
Blood on his fists.
Bruises on his face.
Chest heaving.
Eyes burning.
He wasn't broken.
Not this time.
He looked for the two boys he saved, finding Oshida lifting Osamu with his arm over his shoulder.
A breath of release escape as he walked over to them. The duo stared at the dirty blonde-haired boy as he made his way over, but this time it was awe.
"Let me help you," Takumi said to the mild shock of them both.
" N-no, you don't have to." Oshida stutters out and Osamu to out of it to care. But Takumi paid with Oshida said with no mind as they continued to walk to the nurse's office.
" Thanks," Oshida said, barely a whisper.
" No problem." Takumi simply responded.
Elsewhere…
In a quiet office across town, Ms. Tamura sat alone, the soft tick of a clock the only sound accompanying her as she flipped back through her notes.
"If you succeed in your goal, what will you do next?"
He hadn't answered.
Not with words.
But sometimes, answers weren't verbal.
She leaned back in her chair, pen resting lightly against her chin, eyes narrowing in quiet thought.
There had been a shift in him, not dramatic, but subtle. The way his body leaned forward when he spoke with purpose. The tension in his hands when he spoke of loss. The way he deflected praise but clung to discipline.
She'd seen it before.
The kind of boy who burned so fiercely with direction that he forgot how to live without it.
But fire, even righteous fire, needed kindling. Something to keep it from devouring the vessel it lived in.
Today, somewhere in that courtyard, Takumi might've found a flicker of something he didn't know he was missing.
Not vengeance.
Not just survival.
But intention.
The will to choose, not react.
To protect, not punish.
To act from strength, not spite.
It wasn't a plan.
But it was a beginning.
A crack in the armor.
A moment of clarity in a life defined by aftermaths.
He stood today. Not to destroy something, but to keep something from being destroyed.
Takumi, like he always had, kept moving forward.
AN: ok this is the end of volume 1 next is volume 2- C-rank saga. I'm gonna take a small break so I can build up on some chapter. Thank you and keep reading, I love all your comments