unity

Akari's mind was consumed by a single, blinding emotion: rage. Arnold's last words to her echoed in her mind, and his death—the brutal, senseless loss—had torn something deep inside her. Her Noor, usually a calm and controlled power, now surged through her in a chaotic flood. Her grief twisted into fury, an unstoppable wave of destruction. Her body glowed with such intensity that the very air around her crackled with raw power.

Kuro arrived just moments after the explosion, his heart pounding as he rushed toward the source. But his eyes fell first on Arnold's lifeless body, lying motionless in a pool of blood. The sight hit him like a gut punch, his chest tightening. His mind raced to piece together what had happened.

Akari...

His heart sank as he turned his gaze to the wreckage. The air was thick with the remnants of Noor, heavy and suffocating. Akari was hovering above the ruins, her body blazing with energy. The ground beneath her was scorched, the earth itself burned from the sheer force of her anger. She was surrounded by the remnants of the enemy's base, now reduced to rubble, not a single soul alive.

Akari's glowing eyes locked onto Kuro, and for a brief moment, she didn't recognize him. Her body was shaking with the overwhelming power that surged through her. The weight of her grief and rage was consuming her, and Kuro saw that there was nothing left of the girl he had known—only an avatar of vengeance.

"Akari!" Kuro shouted, his voice urgent. He had to get through to her. He could feel the intensity of her Noor, but he didn't know how to stop her. "It's me—Kuro! Please, calm down!"

But Akari's eyes were blank, her tears mixing with the radiance of her power. Her grief had taken over, and the Noor in her was unstable, thrumming dangerously. She wasn't hearing him.

The air shimmered with the sheer force of her emotions, and then she shot off the ground with a deafening roar, soaring into the sky, leaving Kuro to chase her.

Kuro's heart ached for her. He had to stop her before she destroyed everything. Before she was destroyed.

Akari flew toward the shapeshifters' base with unrelenting speed, her Noor tearing through the air. She didn't care anymore. She had lost too much. Her anger became her only driving force. The shapeshifters—her enemies—had to pay for Arnold's death.

When Akari arrived at the base, she didn't waste a second. Her Noor exploded outward in a devastating wave. The entire complex was obliterated in an instant. Buildings crumbled, the earth cracked open, and the air turned into a storm of destruction. The shapeshifters' army was wiped out, every last one of them falling to her power.

But still, the boy—the one who had taunted her, the one who had killed Arnold—wasn't there.

Her chest heaved, but the emptiness inside her was even more suffocating than her rage. It wasn't enough. None of it was.

As the dust settled and the flames died down, Kuro arrived at the destroyed base. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Akari, still glowing with her unchecked power, her body trembling. The devastation around them was unlike anything he had ever seen.

But all he could focus on was her.

Her glowing eyes met his, and something flickered in her gaze—something broken.

Kuro approached cautiously, his voice soft as he called out to her. "Akari... please... I'm here. I'm right here."

She didn't respond. Instead, her Noor flared again, and she shot into the sky once more, her heartache giving her wings of fury.

Kuro chased her, the wind whipping around him as he followed her, desperate. He couldn't lose her too. He wouldn't.

He knew she needed him.

When he finally caught up to her, Akari was hovering above the battlefield, her body glowing so brightly it was blinding. She didn't even acknowledge his presence. She was lost in her rage, her Noor still cracking and surging violently.

Kuro stood beneath her, looking up at her glowing form. "Akari... don't do this. You're going to destroy yourself. Arnold wouldn't want this. Please... come back to us."

Her glowing form flickered for a moment, a sign of weakness, a sign that she heard him. But the anger in her eyes remained. Her voice, when it came, was raw, filled with pain.

"I can't!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "I lost him, Kuro. I lost him, and it's all my fault. I couldn't save him." Her Noor flickered violently, and the ground below her cracked and splintered under the force of her grief.

Kuro stepped forward, his heart breaking as he reached out to her. "You didn't lose him, Akari. He loved you... and you loved him. But this... this isn't you. You can't carry the world on your shoulders like this. Let me help you. Please."

Akari's glowing eyes shifted, the pain in her gaze now mixing with something darker. "I don't know how to stop, Kuro... I don't know how to stop the pain."

Kuro stepped closer, his hand trembling as he extended it toward her. "Then let me help you carry it. We'll carry it together, okay? You don't have to do this alone."

Her body trembled, the Noor around her still crackling with power, but her heart... her heart was breaking. Slowly, the glow began to fade. The intensity of her rage ebbed, but the sorrow remained.

And as she slowly descended toward the ground, Kuro caught her in his arms, holding her tightly as her tears fell onto his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Akari," Kuro whispered, his voice breaking. "You don't have to carry this alone."

She clung to him, her sobs muffled against his shoulder. "I don't want to lose anyone else... I can't..."

Kuro held her tighter, his own heart aching for her, knowing that this was just the beginning of their journey through the darkness together.

After the devastating loss of Arnold, Akari, in a state of emotional turmoil and exhaustion, was carried back to the base by Kuri—the tiny dragon who had been Akari and Kuro's companion. Kuri's gentle wings carried her back through the air, while Akari remained unconscious, her body and mind too drained to respond to anything. Arnold's lifeless body was carried along, and the funeral was arranged.

For several days, the base was silent, everyone mourning the loss of a dear friend, the atmosphere heavy with grief. Akari, however, remained unconscious for almost the entire period. She couldn't speak, couldn't process, and couldn't even grieve. She was lost in her own mind, unable to face the reality of Arnold's death, unable to move forward.

The funeral came and went, but Akari's mind was still locked away in a fog. The days blurred into each other as the sorrow seeped into every part of her being. Kuro was there, by her side, tirelessly waiting for her to wake, watching over her like a hawk, though his heart was broken just as deeply.

Four days after the funeral, Akari finally stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, but they were empty, hollow—her once bright eyes now dim with the weight of her loss. She was awake, but the spark in her had gone. The first thing she did was feed Kuri, the tiny dragon who had been loyally by her side through everything. Feeding Kuri seemed to be the only action that gave her any semblance of purpose, though it was mechanical—an act done out of routine, not out of care.

Kuro watched her from a distance, his own grief overwhelming him, yet he couldn't abandon her. She had become his only anchor, even if she was too distant to realize it. Slowly, Akari began to resume some semblance of normal life—if you could call it that.

Every day, Akari and Kuro would sit together, discussing battle strategies. The war was still ongoing, and the threat of the shapeshifters was far from over. But Akari's voice was emotionless, her words lacking any conviction. She spoke only about tactics, her mind fixed on what had to be done. Her eyes never showed the same spark of life they once had, though Kuro could see the traces of the person she used to be, buried beneath the cold exterior.

When the strategy discussions ended, Akari would remain silent, retreating into her thoughts, her eyes vacant. Kuro would often sit beside her, offering comfort in the way he knew best, without pushing her to speak. For a full year, their routine remained unchanged—Akari feeding Kuri, planning the next move in their war, and remaining silent the rest of the time.

Kuro was there, always by her side, his own grief growing as the days passed. He watched helplessly as the girl he cared for—the girl who had been so full of life and laughter—seemed to fade further away with each passing day. He knew she was hurting, but he didn't know how to reach her. He couldn't find a way to bring her back from the darkness that had consumed her.

Every day was the same: discussions, silence, and more silence. Akari never cried, but the emptiness in her heart was a pain that could not be ignored. Kuro couldn't save her, but he couldn't leave her, either. They were two lost souls, bound together by the love of a friend they had both lost. The war raged on, but the war inside Akari's heart felt like a battle she couldn't win.

Akari sat quietly on the sofa, her gaze fixed on the serene view from the window. The soft wind swayed the trees outside, the sky painted in shades of orange as the sun began to set. It was beautiful, but Akari couldn't feel its warmth. The emptiness inside her was too vast. She hadn't noticed how much time had passed—how much she had changed. A small voice brought her back to the present.

"Mama, are you still sad? You know, seeing you sad makes me sad," Kuri's voice, now in her human form, broke the silence. She had grown so much in the past year, now looking like a small four-year-old girl, her once-childish form now showing more maturity. Her bright eyes were filled with concern as she looked at her mother.

Akari blinked, surprised by the comment. She hadn't realized how long it had been since she had truly smiled or laughed. She had buried herself so deeply in grief, so focused on the war and the strategy, that she had forgotten how much Kuri had grown in that time.

"No, my dear Kuri," Akari said softly, looking down at the little girl. "I'm not sad, just... confused," she admitted, though even she wasn't sure what she meant by that. The words didn't seem to reach her heart; the confusion felt endless, like trying to find an answer in a world of fog.

Akari's gaze softened as she realized something that she had failed to notice. Kuri, who had once looked like a two-year-old child when Arnold had died, had grown so much in the past year. It was as if the passage of time had taken her from one stage to the next, and now Kuri looked like a bright, energetic four-year-old. She had skipped what should have been a year's worth of growth, maturing rapidly as if she were trying to catch up with the pain that Akari carried.

"I'm sorry, Kuri," Akari whispered, a feeling of guilt washing over her. "I've made you feel lonely, haven't I? Mommy promises she'll play with you more."

Kuri smiled softly, though there was still a trace of worry in her eyes. "Mama, I'm okay," she said, her voice full of love and reassurance. "But Papa seems very worried for you."

Akari's heart twisted at the mention of Kuro. She knew he had been watching over her—he always had—but she hadn't realized how much her distance had affected him. He had stood by her side, silent but ever-present, waiting for her to return from the darkness that had consumed her.

Akari closed her eyes for a moment, the weight of the last year pressing on her chest. She had been so focused on the war, on keeping everyone safe, that she had forgotten the ones who cared for her the most. Kuro, Kuri, everyone around her—she had isolated them, trying to deal with her grief on her own.

Turning to Kuri, she smiled weakly. "I promise, Kuri. I'll try to do better. For you... and for Papa."

Kuri nodded, her small hands reaching out to gently hold Akari's. "I love you, Mama. And I know Papa loves you too."

The soft words filled the room with a warmth that Akari hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe there was a way to heal, to reconnect with the people who still loved her, even through the darkness.

Akari's lips curled into the first genuine smile in what felt like forever as she twirled Kuri around, the little girl's laughter ringing through the air. "I love you, Kuri, more than everything," Akari said, lifting her up with all the strength she could muster and spinning in a circle. Kuri squealed in delight.

"Yay, Mama, once more!" Kuri giggled, holding her arms out as she wobbled back onto Akari's arms, eager for more.

Akari chuckled softly. "Let's play more," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And I'll spin in three, two, one... and go!" She twirled in another graceful circle, Kuri's laughter a melody that filled the room.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Kuro appeared, standing in the doorway with an expression of cautious concern. "Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the sight of Akari, smiling and spinning Kuri around. "Wait... you're laughing again, Akari?"

Akari froze mid-spin, blinking in surprise as she registered Kuro's presence. She hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing his voice. She smiled even wider, her heart swelling in gratitude. Without saying another word, she let Kuri down gently and rushed straight toward Kuro, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Thank you, doofus, for staying with me," Akari whispered, her voice catching with a mixture of emotion and exhaustion. She buried her face in his chest, her arms wrapped around him tightly as though she never wanted to let go.

Kuro stiffened for a moment, a mixture of surprise and relief crossing his face, before his hands awkwardly went to her back, returning the hug. "Uh... you're welcome, I guess," he muttered, looking slightly flustered. "But seriously, I've been here the whole time, you know. It's not like you've been lost or anything."

Akari pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes filled with a playful glint. "I know, you big doofus," she teased. "But I still have to thank you. You stuck around through all my... well, all of this," she waved vaguely around, referencing the endless grief and silence that had surrounded her for the past year.

Kuro rolled his eyes, though there was a faint blush creeping up his neck. "You're really dramatic sometimes, you know that?" he said, but there was no denying the affection in his tone. "And it's not like I had a choice. Who else is going to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't get yourself killed every five minutes?"

Akari snorted, amused. "Well, I suppose you are the only idiot I know who's stubborn enough to stick around," she teased, leaning into him again. "But really, thank you, Kuro. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Kuro's face softened as he pulled her closer, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't mention it," he muttered, his usual serious demeanor melting away for just a moment. "I'm not going anywhere. Not again."

The air was thick with unspoken feelings, and for the first time in a long while, Akari felt like maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

Days passed, and Akari slowly began to return to her old self. She was laughing again, chatting with Kuro, Kuri, and the others like she used to. While the weight of Arnold's loss would always be with her, she had learned that clinging to grief wouldn't bring him back—it would only make the pain linger. So, with a small but steady step, Akari had begun to move forward, carrying his memory with love rather than sorrow.

One afternoon, as they sat around the base after a long training session, Akari jokingly punched Kuro in the arm. "Hey! That hurt!" he exclaimed, rubbing his arm dramatically.

Akari rolled her eyes, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, such a baby," she teased, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

Kuri, who had been quietly watching them both with a curious expression, suddenly jumped up and dashed over. She crossed her arms and tilted her head in that serious little way she did when she was trying to process something. "Mama, Baba, when are you getting married?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I will wear the same dress as mama then!"

Kuro froze, his face turning beet red as his eyes widened in disbelief. "Wha—what?" he stammered, caught completely off guard. "We're not getting married, Kuri!"

Akari, looking equally flustered but trying to maintain some composure, quickly jumped in. "No, no, Kuri," she said, her voice a little higher than usual. "We're not getting married."

"But you are my parents," Kuri insisted, her voice full of logic and innocence. "So, you're both married. Parents are married!"

Akari and Kuro exchanged awkward glances, both of them at a loss for words. The silence was thick with discomfort, and Akari could feel her cheeks heating up.

Kuro, unable to handle the awkwardness any longer, rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, I think Kuri's got a point, though..." he muttered, his face now completely red. "I mean, we're like... your parents, right?"

Akari's eyes widened in embarrassment, her face turning bright pink. "This is so awkward!" she said, flapping her hands in front of her face as if to cool down the heat that had settled there. "Kuri, you're too young to understand these things!"

Kuri just looked at them both innocently, a proud little smile on her face. "It's okay, Mama. I know you love each other," she said, matter-of-factly, before skipping off to play with her toys.

Kuro sighed heavily, clearly relieved she was no longer questioning them about it, though the awkward tension still lingered between him and Akari. "Well, this is... definitely not how I imagined this conversation going," he said, still red in the face.

Akari chuckled, unable to suppress a smile despite the awkwardness. "I swear, if anyone else had asked us that, I'd probably have exploded with laughter. But Kuri... She's a little too smart for her own good."

Kuro shook his head with a grin, though there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "She's gonna be the death of us, huh?"

Akari laughed, her usual confidence returning. "Probably," she admitted, but her voice was light and happy. For the first time in a long while, she felt truly at peace, even with all the embarrassing moments that came with it.

Two years passed, and the war finally came to an end with a peace agreement. The chaos and bloodshed that had consumed their lives were over, but the aftermath brought its own challenges. Arnold's tragic death left the kingdom without a clear successor. His younger sister, though intelligent and capable, openly refused the crown.

"I never wanted the crown," she declared at a council meeting. "I just want to live my life tension-free with the wealth I have. My interests lie in business, not ruling a kingdom."

This decision left the kingdom with a dilemma. According to the laws, if the rightful heir declined the throne, the next ruler would be chosen based on strength, skill, and the ability to lead. The two strongest candidates were Akari and Kuro.

However, there was a peculiar condition tied to the law: the new ruler had to be married before the crown ceremony. This posed a significant problem, as neither Akari nor Kuro had any plans to marry.

Kuro, though always loyal to Akari, still bore feelings for her, but he never pressed her. He respected her grief for Arnold and wanted her to heal in her own time. Akari, meanwhile, still struggled to move on fully. Arnold's memory remained a part of her, and she hadn't allowed herself to consider the possibility of love again.

The current king, despite his deteriorating health, was forced to remain on the throne as a temporary emperor. At a meeting with his advisors, he summoned both Akari and Kuro.

"You two are the strongest and most trusted individuals in this kingdom," the king said, his voice weary but firm. "One of you must take the crown. But as the law dictates, you cannot rule alone. Marriage is a requirement to ensure stability for the throne and the lineage."

Akari and Kuro exchanged uncomfortable glances, neither ready to confront the issue.

The king continued, "You have time to decide. Discuss among yourselves who will take the crown and who will stand beside them as a spouse. I will hold the throne until you come to an agreement, but this cannot drag on forever. The kingdom needs its ruler."

The weight of his words hung in the air as they left the hall.

Walking through the castle corridors, Kuro finally broke the silence. "Well... this is awkward."

Akari crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "Awkward? That's putting it lightly. It's like they want to make our lives into some kind of romance drama."

Kuro smirked despite himself. "So, what do we do? Fight over the crown? Or flip a coin?"

Akari sighed. "Neither. We'll need to think this through. Honestly, Kuro, do you even want to rule?"

Kuro shrugged. "Not particularly, but I don't trust anyone else to protect this kingdom. And you?"

"I'd rather focus on strategy and defending the people. But if it comes down to it..." she trailed off, her gaze distant.

Kuro studied her for a moment, his voice softening. "Akari, I know this isn't easy for you. And if... if you don't want to do this, I'll take the responsibility. Just say the word."

Akari looked at him, her heart heavy with gratitude and guilt. "Kuro, you've always been there for me. But this decision... we need to make it together."

And so, the two of them stood on the brink of a monumental choice. They were no longer just warriors or childhood friends—they were the kingdom's hope. But the question of who would rule and who would stand beside them loomed over them, unresolved.

The growing division within the kingdom had become impossible to ignore. One group of citizens fervently supported Kuro as the rightful ruler, citing his heritage and angelic bloodline. The other group, however, rallied behind Akari, recognizing her unparalleled strength and dedication to protecting the kingdom during the war, even though she wasn't an angel. The unrest threatened to escalate, and the king knew something had to be done before it spiraled out of control.

Summoning Akari and Kuro to the council chamber, the king's expression was grim. He sat at the head of the table, his fragile frame accentuated by the weight of the crown he still bore.

"Time is no longer on our side," he began, his voice steady but strained. "The kingdom is fracturing. This division cannot continue, or it will destroy everything we've fought for."

Akari frowned. "I understand the urgency, Your Majesty, but the problem remains: whoever takes the crown, the opposing faction will rebel."

Kuro nodded in agreement. "Even if one of us steps aside, the other will face endless opposition. It's a lose-lose situation."

The king leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Then unite them."

Both Akari and Kuro exchanged confused glances. "How, Your Majesty?" Kuro asked.

"Marry each other," the king said bluntly, the words cutting through the room like a blade.

Akari froze, her expression one of disbelief. "But... Your Majesty, you know I used to care for Arnold. How can you ask this of me? To marry Kuro, his best friend, after all that's happened?"

The king sighed deeply, his eyes softening as he addressed her. "Akari, you've been like a daughter to me. Arnold loved you, but he's gone now. He would want you to move forward, to find peace and happiness. Kuro has stood by you through everything. He understands your grief better than anyone else. I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't believe it would be best for the kingdom—and for you both."

Still unconvinced, Akari looked away, her voice faltering. "But..."

The king reached into his robes and pulled out a small, worn diary, handing it to her. "This was Arnold's. He wrote it during the war. Read it, Akari. I believe it will help you understand."

Her hands trembled as she took the diary, clutching it tightly. She didn't dare open it yet, the emotions too raw.

"You don't have to decide this instant," the king said gently. "But time is running out. The kingdom needs unity, and you both hold the key. I'll leave you to think it over."

With that, he dismissed them.

As they left the chamber, the weight of the decision hung heavily in the air. Akari clutched the diary close to her chest, her mind racing. Kuro walked silently beside her, his usual easy demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness.

Finally, he broke the silence. "What do you think?"

Akari hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know. I feel like I'm betraying Arnold just by considering it. But..." She looked at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "I don't want to see the kingdom fall apart either."

Kuro placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you, Akari. Always."

She nodded, though the words did little to ease the storm in her heart. Later that night, as she sat alone in her room, Akari finally opened the diary, bracing herself for what she might find within its pages.