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“Senior? You’re back!”
A voice calls out to her brightly.
Himeko pauses mid-step. For a moment, she thinks she imagined it. No one has called her that in years.
Slowly, she turns. A girl stands a short distance away, twin pigtails bouncing as she shifts on her heels. The sunlight catches in her hair, and her eyes are wide, shimmering with something between shock and joy.
“…Belle?”
The name leaves Himeko’s lips like a fragile memory, as though she’s afraid it might dissolve if spoken too loudly.
Belle gasps, her hands flying to her mouth before she drops them and rushes forward.
“It really is you, senior!” She exclaims, stopping just shy of colliding into her. She looks Himeko up and down, taking in the longer hair, the composed posture, the faint maturity in her gaze. “You look so different! We almost didn’t recognize you.”
She laughs, bright and clear. “Still that dashing aura of yours simply can't be obscured.”
Her hands clasp together over her chest, fingers trembling slightly despite her smile. “I… and so many of us…” Her voice softens, the excitement giving way to something more vulnerable. “We’ve been here waiting all this time.”
The words settle heavily between them.
Himeko feels her breath catch.
Waiting.
Her gloved hand rises unconsciously to her chest, pressing lightly against her racing heart. The guilt she has long buried begins to stir again, old and familiar.
“I’m so sorry…” She says quietly, lowering her gaze for just a moment. “I was gone too long.” Her fingers curl slightly against her coat. “It’s unforgivable that I never came back to visit you all.”
Belle blinks, then suddenly laughs. The sound is warm, teasing, and achingly nostalgic.
“You? Apologising so seriously?” She says, tilting her head with a playful grin. “That’s not like you at all, Senior.”
Himeko looks up. For a brief second, the weight in her eyes eases.
“…Yeah.” The corner of her lips lifts into a faint, genuine smile. “After all this time, the least I can do is smile.”
Suddenly, the air turns heavy and suffocating, as though an invisible pressure has settled over the room. The warmth that filled the space moments ago drains away, replaced by a creeping chill that crawls up Himeko’s spine. The lively chatter that once filled the classroom dies out in an instant, leaving behind a silence so abrupt it feels unnatural.
Belle’s smile vanishes, replaced by pure dread. Her shoulders tense, and her eyes dart toward the windows as if expecting something terrible to appear at any moment.
“Oh no… Senior…” She whispers, her voice trembling now. “He’s here… that thing is coming!”
Himeko’s brows knit together, unease coiling in her stomach. “Wait… what did you just say?”
Before Belle can answer, Himeko’s vision flickers violently. A crimson hue bleeds into the edges of her sight, like ink spreading through water. The room around her begins to warp and distort, the walls stretching unnaturally as though the world itself is bending out of shape.
Belle suddenly turns toward the other students, panic overtaking her voice. “Everyone, hide! We mustn’t let that monster find us!”
The students erupt into frantic motion, chairs scraping loudly against the floor as they scramble away. Belle grabs Himeko’s arm for a brief second, her grip tight with desperation.
“Run, Senior!” Belle shouts, her eyes locking onto Himeko’s. “The Herald of Death is back!”
The words slam into Himeko’s chest.
And then—
Silence.
In a blink of an eye the students vanish and the classroom empties.
Desks stand abandoned. Papers drift slowly to the floor as though time itself has slowed.
Across the windows, pink handprints begin to appear.
One.
Then another.
Then dozens.
They smear against the glass from the outside, small and distorted, dragging downward as if something unseen presses against the barrier. The color is wrong. Too bright. Too alive.
“Belle!” Himeko calls out, her voice echoing through the now-empty room.
There is no answer.
Her pulse quickens as she spins around, searching for any sign of movement. The silence presses down on her ears, broken only by the distant creak of the building settling.
Then the door slowly opens.
The sound of the hinges groaning seems unnaturally loud in the stillness. A figure steps through the doorway, its face hidden behind a pale, expressionless mask. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the floor as the figure walks toward her with slow, deliberate steps.
Himeko instinctively backs away, her heart pounding violently in her chest. “W-who exactly are you?!” She demands, her voice shaking despite her attempt to sound firm.
The masked figure offers no reply. Instead, he lifts a knife. The blade glints faintly in the distorted red light before plunging forward.
Pain explodes through Himeko’s chest as the knife drives into her. Her vision floods completely with crimson, the world dissolving into a chaotic blur as the masked figure’s silhouette looms over her.
Then everything shatters.
Himeko jolts upright in bed, a sharp gasp tears from her lungs as she clutches at her chest. There is no wound, only the phantom echo of pain.
She is drenched in sweat, her nightgown clinging to her skin. Her breathing comes fast and uneven, each inhale shaky. She sits there for a moment, panting, trying to steady her breathing.
Slowly, she lowers her gaze to her hands resting on the blanket. They are trembling badly, her fingers shaking in a way she cannot quite control.
A droplet of water falls onto her skin.
Himeko blinks, confused. She raises a hand to her cheek, brushing her fingers against her face. When she pulls her hand away, the faint moisture on her fingertips catches the light.
She freezes.
Tears.
A quiet realisation settles over her as she stares at her shaking hand.
“…That nightmare.” She whispers hoarsely, her throat tightening. “…Again.”
The silence of the room presses in around her, heavy and suffocating.
And somewhere deep in her chest, beneath the fading terror, the name lingers.
The Herald of Death…
After sitting there for a long while, staring into the dim quiet of the room, Himeko slowly realises that remaining frozen in place will not calm the storm inside her mind. The remnants of the nightmare still cling to her chest like a weight, making every breath feel heavier than it should.
With a quiet exhale, she pushes the blanket aside and decides that a glass of water might help settle her nerves.
Carefully, she slides her legs off the side of the bed, the cool floor brushing against her bare feet. The movement causes the mattress to shift slightly.
Beside her, Welt stirs.
He shifts under the covers before slowly sitting up, rubbing his eyes with a groggy motion as he wakes. His hair is slightly tousled, lacking the usual neat composure he carries during the day.
Only then does Himeko remember.
This isn’t her room on the Astral Express.
They are currently staying in the IPC accommodations on Planarcadia, and the limited number of rooms means everyone has had to share. Stelle and March occupy one room together, while Caelus and Dan Heng take another.
That left only one arrangement remaining. Her and Welt.
Himeko glances over her shoulder, momentarily caught off guard by the sight of him without his glasses. It’s not something she sees often, and without them, he looks noticeably younger, the sharp intellectual air around him softened by the sleepy haze of someone abruptly woken in the middle of the night. There is something unexpectedly charming about the sight.
She can’t deny the thought that crosses her mind.
He looks… quite charming like this.
Still half-awake, Welt reaches toward the bedside table, patting around absentmindedly until his fingers finally find what he’s searching for. He picks up his glasses and slides them onto his face.
The moment his vision clears, his gaze lands on her. His expression changes almost immediately.
Concern settles into his features as he notices the dampness on her cheeks and the faint redness in her eyes.
“Himeko?” Welt asks quietly, his voice still thick with sleep. “Is something wrong?”
Himeko straightens slightly, wiping the remaining tears from her face with the back of her hand before offering him a small, apologetic smile.
“Sorry for waking you again, Welt.” She says softly. “I’ll try to be quieter next time.”
Welt studies her for a moment, his brows drawing together slightly. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you awake like this, crying in the middle of the night. Was it that nightmare again?”
Himeko’s smile fades almost instantly. She looks away, her gaze dropping toward the floor as her fingers tighten faintly against the fabric of the blanket. “…Yes.”
For a moment, neither of them speaks.
Welt lets out a slow breath before asking, his voice calm and patient. “Do you want to talk about it? Or are you still not ready?”
Himeko does not answer.
The silence stretches between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Welt seems to understand her hesitation, because after a moment he simply nods to himself and rises from the bed without another word.
He quietly leaves the room.
Himeko watches the door close behind him, confusion briefly flickering across her face. The room falls silent again, leaving only the faint hum of the building’s ventilation system and the distant glow of city lights filtering through the curtains.
A few minutes later, the door opens once more.
Welt steps back inside, holding a glass of water. He walks over and gently hands it to her. “Here, drink. It’ll help.”
Himeko accepts the glass, her fingers brushing lightly against his as she takes it. “Thank you, Welt… Sorry for troubling you once again.”
She takes a small sip, the cool water helping to ease the dryness in her throat.
Welt sits down beside her on the edge of the bed, resting his hands loosely together as he watches her with quiet attentiveness.
“It’s fine. I’m more concerned about your wellbeing.” He pauses for a moment before continuing, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been acting differently ever since we arrived here on Planarcadia. More distant… more distracted. Something happened that day when we first arrived, something that stirred up your memories again.”
His eyes meet hers. “…Didn’t it?”
Himeko sits silently for a moment after Welt’s question, her fingers tightening slightly around the glass in her hands. The water inside trembles faintly with the small movement.
Finally, she draws in a slow breath.
“I know I’ve never spoken about my past much.” She begins quietly. “It’s not because I don’t trust you… or the others. I just…” Her voice falters slightly before she steadies it again. “I just… couldn’t bear to talk about something so gruesome.”
She lowers her gaze to the floor, watching the dim reflection of the room’s light ripple across the water in her glass. “But… I think I’m ready now.”
After a brief pause, she lifts her head slightly and looks toward Welt. Her expression carries both hesitation and resolve. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me all this time. You deserve to know what really happened.”
Himeko draws in a slow, steady breath, as though preparing herself to reopen a door she has kept sealed for years.
“Back at Graphia Academy… I saw them again today. Ghosts… the ghosts of my former classmates.” Her voice grows quieter. “They weren't real, they were shadows cast by my own memories… echoes of regrets I’ve carried for fifteen years.” Her fingers tighten slightly around the glass. “Those were young lives that should have had futures ahead of them. Futures that ended inside that academy.”
She closes her eyes briefly. “…Fifteen years ago, during the last Phantasmoon Games. I participated as a Supplicant. ” When she opens them again, they carry a distant look. “I once believed that all it took for a supplicant to win was to show the people a magnificent ‘miracle’, and then I'd have an audience with the Aeon of Elation...” A faint, bitter smile crosses her lips. “How foolish… How naive I was. Not everyone wants to obtain everyone’s Wishpower in a positive way.”
Her eyes darken slightly. “On July 22nd, year 1982 of the Arcadian Calender,” Himeko continues, her voice tightening, “a supplicant harboring immense malice stepped into Graphia Academy.”
Himeko’s hands begin to tremble, she closes her eyes briefly, as if the memory is unfolding vividly in front of her again. “He slaughtered 22 students who had stayed behind after school, then went on to Dovebrook District, where 146 innocent civilians were either killed or wounded.”
Welt’s expression darkens as he listens, but he remains silent, allowing her to speak.
“The killer acted like a deranged artist, leaving corpses imprinting his signature mark… the Bloody Bloom.” Himeko says, her voice shaking slightly now. “The media dubbed him…” She pauses before forcing the words out. “The Herald of Death.”
The name hangs in the air like a curse.
Himeko’s breathing becomes uneven, her shoulders trembling slightly as the memories press in. “I-I tried to stop him when I realised what was happening. I confronted him at the academy and held him off for as long as I could, trying to keep him away from the others… but—“
Before she can finish, Welt gently places a hand on her shoulder. The simple gesture grounds her, steady and reassuring. “It’s not your fault. You did everything you could. You tried your best.”
The words seem to break something inside her. Himeko suddenly shakes her head, her composure collapsing.
“It is my fault!” She cries, her voice cracking as tears begin to fall again. “If I had never become a Supplicant, none of this would have happened!”
Her breathing grows uneven as the guilt pours out. “He was probably after me.” She continues through ragged breaths. “He wanted to eliminate his rivals so he could win the Phantasmoon Games.”
Her hands tremble violently now. “And because of that… I brought danger to everyone around me.” She lowers her head, clutching the fabric of the blanket tightly. “All those innocent lives… They were dragged into something they had nothing to do with.”
“I put them in danger.” She says, her voice breaking with grief. “And when it mattered most… I was powerless to stop it.”
Seeing her tears finally spill over, Welt does not hesitate. He gently reaches forward and pulls Himeko into his arms.
At first she stiffens slightly, surprised by the sudden closeness, but the warmth of the embrace quickly breaks down the fragile wall she has been holding up. Her forehead presses against his chest as the emotions she has been holding back finally spill over. Quiet sobs shake her shoulders as she buries her face against him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself.
Welt says nothing at first. He simply holds her there, one arm wrapped securely around her shoulders while his other hand slowly moves to the back of her head. His fingers brush gently through her hair in a steady, calming motion.
“You shouldn’t blame yourself for something you never expected to happen.” He says softly. His voice remains calm and reassuring, each word measured. “You entered the Phantasmoon Games believing it would be something exciting, something joyful. You had no way of knowing it would turn into a tragedy.” His hand continues its slow, comforting rhythm. “You shouldn’t carry guilt for something you didn’t cause.”
Himeko’s breathing slowly steadies, though tears still slip quietly down her face. After a moment, she speaks again, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I thought I had already moved on from the past.” She admits quietly. “The nightmares had stopped for so long… I truly believed that chapter of my life was behind me.”
She pulls back slightly, though she still remains close to him.
“But ever since that incident at Graphia Academy… they’ve come back.” Her eyes lower as she struggles to keep her composure. “The memories, the fear… it’s all resurfacing again.”
A bitter smile crosses her face. “I suppose that means I’m not as strong as I once believed.”
Welt shakes his head almost immediately. “You are strong.” He says firmly, his voice carrying quiet conviction. “I’ve seen how you face danger, time and time again. You’ve led the Astral Express through countless crises without hesitation.” His gaze softens slightly. “But strength doesn’t mean you have to carry everything alone. Even the strongest people need moments where they can let their guard down.” He pauses before adding gently. “You don’t have to carry everything alone. Not all the time.”
Himeko studies him quietly for a moment before something else seems to weigh on her mind. Slowly, she lifts her head and looks up at him. “There’s something else that’s been bothering me… Something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”
She hesitates, as if unsure whether the words should even be spoken. “Apparently… according to the records here on Planarcadia… I died fifteen years ago during that tragic incident.” Her fingers tighten slightly against the bedsheet. “But here I am. Alive. Traveling the stars with all of you as if nothing ever happened.”
Her gaze meets Welt’s, uncertainty flickering in her expression. “…Don’t you think that’s strange?”
Welt remains silent for a moment as he considers her question.
“Yes.” He admits eventually. “From a purely logical standpoint… it is unusual that you are alive when official records claim you should be dead.” But his expression remains calm. “However… the person sitting in front of me right now is still the same Himeko who shares coffee with us in the morning, who repairs the Astral Express when something breaks, and who guides the crew whenever we lose our way.”
A faint smile appears on his face. “You are the Himeko who has traveled across countless worlds with us.” He looks at her in the eyes. “So whether the records say you’re real or not… You’re still our Himeko. And nothing will change that.”
For a moment, Himeko simply stares at him.
Then her expression softens, the tension in her shoulders finally easing as she lets out a quiet breath. “…Thank you.” A small, genuine smile appears through the traces of her tears. “That means more to me than you probably realise.”
She wipes the remaining moisture from her cheek before continuing. “I’ll tell you the rest of the story when the time comes. There are still things I’m not ready to face yet.”
Her gaze drifts briefly toward the window. Beyond the glass, the distant lights of Planarcadia shimmer softly against the night, the city quiet beneath a blanket of darkness. For a moment she simply watches them, as though gathering the last fragments of strength she has left.
Then she turns her attention back to him. “But for now… this is all I can reveal about my past.”
Welt gives a small, understanding nod. “It’s alright, I understand.”
He folds his hands loosely together, expression thoughtful. “As someone who has also experienced… more than a few traumatic events in life. I know how painful it can be to reopen old wounds. Sometimes the memories feel heavier the moment you give them words.” His voice softens slightly. “And sometimes… they may never fully heal.”
Himeko studies him for a moment, clearly sensing the weight behind those words. Though he rarely speaks about his own past in detail, the quiet gravity in his tone says enough.
A faint smile touches her lips. “Thank you, Welt… For everything you’ve done… and for staying by my side when I’m at my lowest.”
Welt adjusts his glasses slightly, returning the smile, though his is a little more subdued. “No problem. That’s what friends are for.”
He glances briefly at the clock resting on the bedside table before looking back at her.
“It’s getting quite late.” He adds gently. “You should try to get some rest.”
Himeko hesitates. Her fingers tighten slightly around the blanket in her lap as if she is debating something internally.
“…Could I make a selfish request?” She asks after a moment, her voice quieter than before.
Welt nods without hesitation. “Of course.”
She lowers her gaze for a moment, clearly embarrassed by what she is about to say.
“Don’t leave me.” She murmurs, her voice trembling just slightly. “I… I don’t want to be alone right now.”
For a brief moment, Welt simply looks at her. Then, without saying a word, he pulls her gently back into his arms.
This time the embrace feels warmer, more reassuring, as if he understands exactly what she needs.
“I won’t.” He says softly. His hand rests comfortingly against her back as he speaks. “I’ll stay here for as long as you need.”
The tension in Himeko’s shoulders slowly begins to ease as she leans against him, resting her head lightly against his chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his presence begin to calm the lingering anxiety left behind by the nightmare.
After a moment, Welt carefully guides her back toward the pillows so she can lie down properly. He remains seated beside her, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder as if assuring her he truly isn’t going anywhere.
“Try to go back to sleep.”
Himeko nods faintly. Her eyelids grow heavier as the exhaustion from both the nightmare and the long conversation finally begins to catch up with her. Even as she drifts toward sleep, her fingers remain loosely curled around his sleeve, unwilling to fully let go.
Welt does not pull away. Instead, he stays exactly where he is, quietly watching over her. Every now and then, he gently brushes a stray strand of hair away from her face, making sure she remains comfortable.
Gradually, her breathing slows. The tension in her face fades, replaced by the peaceful stillness of someone who has finally found a small moment of rest.
Welt watches her quietly in the dim light of the room. His gaze drifts toward the window for a moment, the distant lights of Planarcadia flickering against the night sky, before returning to the sleeping figure beside him.
The story she told lingers in his mind.
The Phantasmoon Games.
Graphia Academy.
The Herald of Death.
There are still too many unanswered questions, too many strange details that refuse to settle neatly into place. If the records truly say that Himeko died fifteen years ago, then how is she sitting here now, alive and breathing? And why have those memories begun resurfacing the moment they arrived on this planet?
Something about it doesn’t add up.
Still, now is not the time to chase those questions.
Welt glances back at Himeko, noticing how her grip on his sleeve has loosened slightly in her sleep, though she still hasn’t let go completely.
Whatever mysteries lie buried in her past, they can wait.
For now, he simply remains seated beside the bed, quietly keeping watch.
The truth will reveal itself eventually.
And when that time comes, they will face it together.