Kage walks down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps steady, his expression unreadable. The cold walls seem to close in as he approaches his sentence—28 days in the Torture Chamber.

  Without ceremony, he enters the chamber, is untied, and begins removing his outer garments, leaving only his boxers. The cadre member leading him notices the countless scars marking Kage's body—testimony to battles that would have killed ordinary men.

  Officials step forward, placing seals on his wrists and ankles. Instantly, his mana vanishes. He is now just an ordinary human.

  As chains bind him, suspended by his wrists, the cadre asks, "Are you nervous?"

  Kage's cold response echoes through the chamber. "No. This is what it means to be an assassin within the guild."

  The moment the last chain tightens, the scene shifts—a flashback.

  A younger Kage, only 14 years old, plays outside with his older sister, Emi. Laughter fills the air as the two engage in a simple game—Kage trying to step on Emi's shadow.

  The autumn sun casts long shadows across their yard, the soft golden light filtering through maple leaves that sway in the gentle breeze. The scent of his mother's curry simmers from the kitchen window, mixing with the earthy smell of fallen leaves. Their modest suburban home looks like any other on the block—perfectly ordinary, deliberately so.

  "You're too slow!" Emi teases, her laughter bright and infectious as she phases through him effortlessly. The feeling of her passing through his body always left a strange tingling sensation, like walking through a cool mist.

  Inside the house, their father and mother observe them from the window. The kitchen is warm and inviting, steam fogging the windows, contrasting with the weight of their conversation.

  On the walls hang carefully arranged family photos—Kage and Emi as toddlers, family vacations at the beach, school events. But mixed among these normal memories are subtle hints of their true life: a small framed photo of their father shaking hands with Guild elders, a ceremonial dagger disguised as an antique letter opener, awards with vague citations for "exemplary service."

  Their father, Takeo, was one of the few assassins who had survived long enough to retire—a rarity in their profession. His reputation within the guild remained legendary, his techniques still taught to recruits.

  "He's a late bloomer," their father states, arms crossed, his calloused fingers tapping against his forearm. "And his concept... it's the same as my father's."

  Their mother, Hana, pauses her cooking, the wooden spoon in her hand dripping curry sauce onto the pristine counter. Her eyes, always alert despite her gentle demeanor, look over. "Your father—?"

  "A failure." His voice is sharp. "The laughing stock of the guild. He couldn't even step on a man's shadow to stop them. His body was weak. He relinquished his license... and the guild executed him for being a failed assassin."

  A heavy silence follows, broken only by the bubbling of the curry on the stove and the distant laughter of their children.

  Hana wipes her hands on her apron, the fabric worn from years of use. She moves to stand beside her husband, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Though she married into this life, she understands the weight of legacy, the pressure of bloodlines.

  "They're still children, Takeo," she says softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the boiling pot. "I know what their futures hold, but must they carry that burden so soon?" Her eyes follow Kage as he stumbles again, still trying to catch Emi's shadow. "Especially him. He's not ready."

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  "He'll never keep up with Emi," the father continues, unmoved by his wife's concern. "Her concept allows her to open portals and become intangible. She'll be the strongest in our family's history. But Kage?" He shakes his head. "The bond between them will weaken. She will rise, and he will be left behind."

  Hana's fingers tighten slightly on his shoulder. "Then let them have this moment," she whispers, watching as Emi helps Kage up after he falls. "Let them be children while they still can."

  Their father calls them inside. Kage, beaming, follows Emi through the door, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet. The smell of curry envelops them, warm and comforting.

  "You are to begin assassin selection, Emi," their father announces, his voice shifting from the gentle tone he uses for neighbors to something harder, more clinical. "We expect you to rank first in your class."

  Kage grins, rice grain stuck to his cheek from dinner. "I'll be just like big sister when I join, right, Dad?"

  His father's heart aches at the innocence in his voice, at the brightness in those eyes that had not yet seen death. He doesn't answer immediately, the ticking of the antique clock on the wall filling the silence.

  "The road ahead of you will be difficult, Kage," he finally says. "If you even pass the selection."

  Kage tilts his head, confusion clouding his features. "What do you mean?"

  His father's voice hardens, the gentle facade of suburban fatherhood slipping away. "Your body is weak. Your concept is weak. If you can't change that, you will be nothing."

  The air in the room grows unbearably cold despite the warmth of the stove. Hana's knuckles turn white as she grips her chopsticks, wanting to intervene but knowing her place in this hierarchy.

  Emi breaks the tension, patting Kage on the back with a grin. The sound of her hand against his shirt seems unnaturally loud in the silence. "Don't worry, little bro. Maybe one day you can step on my shadow."

  Kage beams, determination in his eyes as he chases after her, their laughter filling the room once more. The sound of their playful footsteps echoes against the hardwood floors, momentarily masking the tension.

  "Enough games! Both of you need to grow up."

  Their father's voice cuts through the laughter like a blade. He turns to Emi first. "You need to take this seriously." Then, his gaze shifts to Kage, colder. "And you... if you don't train and become strong, you will disgrace this family—just like your grandfather."

  A heavy silence follows once again. This time, Emi does not break it. The only sound is the soft bubbling of curry on the stove and the distant ticking of the clock, counting down moments of childhood that would soon be lost forever.

  Hana looks away, her eyes fixed on a photo of the children at the beach, sand castles and ice cream—a perfect day preserved in time. Her heart aches knowing these memories would soon be replaced by blood and shadows.

  Emi leaves for her training. Kage stays behind, training relentlessly—pushups, sit-ups, anything to make himself stronger. The constant sound of his body hitting the floor during exercises becomes the rhythm of the house, replacing the laughter that once filled the rooms.

  A year passes, and when Emi returns, she is no longer the sister he once knew.

  Her eyes are hollow. Cold. She is the top of her class, a prodigy in assassination. She has killed more people than any teenager should.

  Kage rushes to her, arms open for an embrace, the floorboards creaking under his eager steps.

  She phases through him.

  Kage stumbles forward, confused. She won't even touch him. The familiar tingling sensation of her phasing now feels alien, rejecting.

  Emi turns back, eyes devoid of warmth. "Not everything is a game. Your spineless behavior is no longer tolerated."

  Then—a sudden jab to his stomach. Her fist drives into his kidneys with brutal precision. The impact echoes through his body like thunder, stealing his breath. Kage collapses, gasping for breath, clutching his abdomen in pain.

  His one and only sister, his best friend, has become something else.

  Emi turns to their parents. "I'll be living at the guild from now on," she announces, her voice flat, mechanical. "Until I complete enough contracts to move out."

  Their parents are stunned but not surprised. The guild has done its job well.

  Their mother rushes to Kage, who lies curled up on the floor, still gasping. The smell of her perfume—jasmine and vanilla—surrounds him as she kneels beside him, the same scent that once soothed him after nightmares. She tries to comfort him, but he doesn't respond.

  Kage's mind is elsewhere. He watches Emi walk away with a blank stare, the sound of the closing door like a final judgment.

  Something inside him fractures. If he doesn't have his sister anymore... if she won't even recognize him as family...

  Then he will become an assassin, too.

  Only then, perhaps, will she see him again.