The wind howled like something alive.
Snow dragged across the frozen clearing in sharp streaks, biting against exposed skin and whispering through the skeletal remains of trees. The forest had thinned here, opening into a wide, barren stretch of frostbitten land—perfect for combat.
Or punishment.
Haruki stood at the center of it, his katana trembling slightly in his grip.
Across from him, Raizen planted the butt of his spear into the snow with a dull, echoing thud.
"Again," Raizen said calmly.
Haruki swallowed.
His body ached. Not the kind of soreness that came from training—but something deeper. His head throbbed faintly, like a warning he couldn't turn off.
"I just—" Haruki exhaled slowly, steadying himself. "I need a second."
"You've had seconds," Raizen replied. "You don't get them in a real fight."
The words weren't harsh.
They were worse—matter-of-fact.
Karin stood off to the side, her arms folded, chains wrapped loosely around her wrists. She didn't interrupt. Didn't defend him.
She just watched.
Waiting.
Haruki tightened his grip on his katana.
"…Alright."
Raizen nodded once.
Then he moved.
It happened too fast.
One second Raizen stood still—the next, he was already in motion, spear cutting through the air in a clean, precise arc aimed straight for Haruki's shoulder.
Haruki's eyes widened—
—and the world fractured.
A flash.
Raizen's spear piercing through his guard.
Another flash.
Snow exploding beneath his feet as he stumbled backward too late.
Another.
Pain.
Haruki moved before the present caught up.
His body twisted, blade rising just in time—
Clang!
Steel met steel.
The impact sent a shock through his arms, nearly knocking the katana from his hands. He staggered back, boots digging into the snow as he struggled to keep his footing.
Raizen didn't follow up immediately.
Instead, he watched.
"…Good," he said.
Haruki barely heard him.
His breathing had already started to quicken.
The visions hadn't stopped.
They never stopped.
Raizen stepped forward again—slower this time.
Testing.
The spear shifted in his grip, its tip tracing a faint arc in the air as he angled for another strike.
Haruki's vision flickered—
Left.
No—right.
No—
Both.
Two futures overlapped.
In one, Raizen thrust straight toward his chest.
In another, the spear curved at the last moment, sweeping low toward his legs.
Haruki's body hesitated.
Just for a second.
That was enough.
The spear slammed into his side.
"—Ghk!"
Haruki was thrown off balance, crashing into the snow with a sharp grunt. The cold bit instantly through his clothes, but the pain in his ribs burned hotter.
He rolled instinctively, barely avoiding the follow-up strike that pierced the ground where his head had been.
"Too slow," Raizen said.
Haruki forced himself up, coughing.
"I—I saw it—" he gasped. "Both of them—I didn't know which—"
"Then you chose nothing."
The words hit harder than the blow.
Haruki clenched his teeth.
"I can't just—guess!"
"You're not guessing," Raizen replied. "You're hesitating."
Another step forward.
Another attack.
The visions came harder this time.
Faster.
Messier.
Raizen's spear splitting into dozens of possibilities—
Each one real.
Each one wrong.
Haruki's eyes burned.
His mind strained, trying to process everything at once—
Too many outcomes.
Too many paths.
Too many failures.
He moved.
Too early.
The spear shifted mid-motion, catching him off guard again—
Thud!
This time the blunt end struck his shoulder, spinning him around and sending him face-first into the snow.
Silence.
Except for the wind.
And Haruki's uneven breathing.
"…Why?" Haruki muttered, his voice muffled against the ground. "Why show me all of it if I can't… use it?"
Raizen didn't answer immediately.
Haruki pushed himself up slowly, snow clinging to his face and hair.
His hands were shaking now.
Not from the cold.
From the strain.
"I see it," Haruki continued, his voice rising slightly. "Every move, every outcome—but when it matters—"
He looked up, frustration clear in his eyes.
"I can't keep up!"
Raizen's gaze didn't waver.
"That's because you're trying to win before the fight even begins."
Haruki froze.
"…What?"
Raizen lifted his spear slightly, pointing it toward Haruki—not threatening, but firm.
"You're treating your visions like answers," he said. "Like there's a single correct path you need to find."
A pause.
"There isn't."
The wind howled louder, as if punctuating the words.
"The Eyes of Memories don't give you certainty," Raizen continued. "They give you possibility."
Haruki's brows furrowed.
"But if I don't pick the right one—"
"You won't," Raizen interrupted.
Haruki blinked.
"You will be wrong," Raizen said plainly. "Over and over again."
A step forward.
"You will see outcomes that never happen."
Another step.
"You will act on visions that lead nowhere."
He stopped just a few meters away now.
"And if you rely on them completely…"
His voice lowered slightly.
"They will break you."
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Haruki looked down at his hands.
Still shaking.
"…Then what am I supposed to do?" he asked quietly.
Raizen didn't answer right away.
Instead, he shifted his stance—lower, more grounded.
The spear angled differently now.
Not attacking.
Inviting.
"Come at me," he said.
Haruki blinked.
"What?"
"You're done reacting," Raizen said. "Now you move first."
Karin raised an eyebrow slightly from where she stood, but said nothing.
Haruki hesitated.
Then tightened his grip on his katana.
"…Fine."
He stepped forward.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
The visions hit again.
Raizen countering his strike.
Raizen dodging to the left.
Raizen stepping back.
Raizen—
Raizen—
Raizen—
Haruki gritted his teeth.
"Just… move!"
He lunged.
The katana cut through the air in a clean diagonal strike aimed at Raizen's torso.
Raizen moved.
Exactly as one of the visions predicted.
But Haruki didn't stop.
Instead of correcting—
Instead of second-guessing—
He followed through.
The strike missed.
But his body kept moving.
He pivoted.
Adjusted.
Swung again.
Clang!
Raizen blocked.
But this time—
Haruki didn't freeze.
Another strike.
Another adjustment.
Another—
The world didn't slow down.
The visions didn't disappear.
But something changed.
Haruki stopped trying to control them.
He let them exist.
And moved anyway.
Steel rang out across the clearing.
Faster now.
Sharper.
More fluid.
Raizen's eyes narrowed slightly.
Better.
Haruki's breathing grew heavier, but his movements became more natural—less forced.
The visions still flickered—
But they no longer stopped him.
For a moment—
Just a moment—
It worked.
Then—
Pain exploded behind his eyes.
"—Ah!"
Haruki staggered mid-step, his vision distorting violently as overlapping futures crashed into each other.
Too many.
Too fast.
Too loud.
The katana slipped from his grip.
He collapsed to one knee, clutching his head.
"Haruki—!" Karin took a step forward—
"Stay back," Raizen said.
Haruki's breathing became erratic.
The world spun.
Snow.
Trees.
Fragments of things that hadn't happened yet—
All blending together.
"I—can't—" Haruki gasped.
His body gave out completely.
He hit the ground.
Hard.
Silence.
The wind slowed.
Karin ran to his side, dropping to her knees beside him.
"Hey—! Haruki!"
No response.
His eyes were open.
But unfocused.
Raizen approached slowly, stopping just behind her.
"…He pushed too far," Karin muttered, her voice tight. "You knew this would happen."
Raizen didn't deny it.
"He needed to reach that point," he said.
Karin shot him a glare.
"At this rate, he'll break before he gets stronger."
Raizen looked down at Haruki.
Unconscious.
Breathing, but barely steady.
"…No," he said quietly.
"He won't."
Karin frowned slightly.
Raizen's gaze hardened—just a little.
"He saw it," he continued. "For a moment."
Karin looked back at Haruki.
"…Saw what?"
Raizen turned away, looking out across the snow-covered clearing.
"The difference," he said.
A pause.
"Between seeing the future…"
His grip tightened slightly on his spear.
"And fighting within it."
The wind carried his words into the empty forest.
Karin exhaled slowly, her expression softening just a bit as she adjusted Haruki's position, making sure he was breathing properly.
"…He better wake up soon," she muttered.
Raizen didn't respond.
But his gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
Somewhere far beyond the frozen trees—
Something unseen shifted.
And for the briefest moment—
Even Raizen frowned...