A father and a son

The next day arrived as Ritsuka was talking to Sensei, as Ritsuka looked at him

So Ritsuka. Sensei said looking at him. how was you father

Ritsuka mentally lapp, here was his dad, asking about him self, sure he didn't know but Ritsuka couldn't just mentally lap. My bad will let's say he was something new was a general, a leader with a stone hearth, he was someone not to cross a man with many plans and many more, but he was one more thing a man with a heart as cold as ice someone who will kill his own people if they were in his word "failures" that who my father was

Sensei looked at him with a flash in his eyes, memory played but it was small, as he looked at Ritsuka for a few second he saw a small boy, holding a knife ready to fight. I see, so you didn't have the best relationship with him, did you even have a father figure, I don't think you did, hey I got an idea I do this with all my student, let's hang out for a day what do you say Ritsuka

Ritsuka looked at Sensei, taken aback by the unexpected offer. A mix of emotions washed over him—resentment, confusion, and a flicker of hope. He hadn't expected this kind of gesture from Sensei, especially considering their complicated past.

"Hanging out for a day?" Ritsuka repeated, trying to mask his surprise. "I... I suppose that could be interesting."

Sensei smiled warmly. "Great! How about we start with something simple? Maybe grab some coffee and talk more? I'd like to get to know you better, Ritsuka."

Ritsuka nodded slowly, still processing the situation. "Sure, why not."

---

As they walked to a nearby café, Ritsuka couldn't help but feel a little on edge. He glanced at Sensei, who seemed genuinely relaxed and eager to spend time with him. It was strange, seeing this version of his father—so different from the cold, calculating man he remembered.

They entered the café, the warm aroma of coffee beans enveloping them. Sensei ordered for both of them, and soon they were sitting at a corner table, steaming cups in front of them.

"So," Sensei began, leaning forward. "Tell me more about your experiences here in Kivotos. How have you been adjusting?"

Ritsuka took a sip of his coffee, gathering his thoughts. "It's been... different. This city is like nothing I've ever seen. The halos, the academies, the gun culture—it's all pretty overwhelming. But I'm adapting."

Sensei nodded. "I can imagine. It's a unique place, that's for sure. But I've found that the people here are what make it special. The students, the teachers... they all bring something unique to the table."

Ritsuka considered this. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I've met some interesting people." He thought of Mika, Aru, and the others he was slowly recruiting. "And despite everything, I think I'm starting to find my place."

Sensei smiled again. "That's good to hear. I know it might not mean much coming from me, but I'm proud of you, Ritsuka. You've been through a lot, and yet here you are, making your way."

Ritsuka felt a pang of emotion at those words. He quickly looked away, not wanting Sensei to see the vulnerability in his eyes. "Thanks," he muttered.

---

After their coffee, Sensei suggested a walk through one of Kivotos' many parks. As they strolled, they talked about lighter topics—Sensei shared amusing stories from his time teaching, and Ritsuka found himself laughing more than he had in a long time.

At one point, they paused by a small pond, watching the ducks glide across the water. Sensei turned to Ritsuka, his expression serious.

"Ritsuka, I know I can't change the past. But I want you to know that I'm here for you now. Whatever you need, whether it's guidance, support, or just someone to talk to—I'm here."

Ritsuka met Sensei's gaze, seeing the sincerity there. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

"Thanks, Sensei," he said quietly. "I appreciate that."

They continued their walk, the conversation flowing more easily now. For a while, Ritsuka allowed himself to enjoy the moment, to believe that perhaps there was a chance for a new beginning.

As the day came to an end, they returned to the academy. Sensei patted Ritsuka on the shoulder. "We should do this again sometime."

Ritsuka nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, I'd like that."

As he watched Sensei walk away, Ritsuka couldn't help but feel a little lighter. He still had his plans, his goals, but maybe having someone like Sensei in his corner wouldn't be so bad after all.

Ritsuka returned home, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions from his day with Sensei. He quietly entered the kitchen, where the enticing aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him. Mika was already seated at the table, looking up as he entered.

"How was your day?" Mika asked, her eyes studying him intently.

"It was... different," Ritsuka replied, taking a seat and starting to eat. The food was good, but his mind was elsewhere.

They ate in relative silence, Mika respecting his need for quiet contemplation. After finishing his meal, Ritsuka thanked her and headed to his room. Mika followed, sensing that something was weighing heavily on his mind.

In his room, Ritsuka moved to the window and looked up at the stars, their twinkling lights a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. Mika stood beside him, her presence a silent offer of support. He found himself speaking without really thinking, voicing the question that had been gnawing at him.

"Why is my father so different after losing his memories?" Ritsuka wondered aloud. "How can he be so... warm now, when he was so cold and cruel before?"

He felt a lump form in his throat, and to his surprise, he felt wetness on his cheeks. He was crying. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried, couldn't remember allowing himself to feel so vulnerable.

Mika placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes, losing memories can change a person. It can strip away the layers of hurt and pain that made them who they were. Maybe, without those memories, he's able to be the person he could never be before."

Ritsuka turned to look at her, his vision blurred by tears. "But it hurts. It hurts that he doesn't remember the things he did, the things he put me through. It feels like all that pain was for nothing."

Mika nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "I know it hurts. But maybe this is a chance for you too, Ritsuka. A chance to heal, to build something new from the ashes of the past."

Ritsuka looked back at the stars, the tears still falling. He felt Mika's hand on his back, comforting and steady. He allowed himself to cry, to release some of the pain and anger he had been carrying for so long.

In that moment, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to move forward. He wasn't alone. He had Mika, and perhaps, in some strange way, he had his father too, even if it was a different version of him. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

As the night wore on, Ritsuka felt a sense of peace slowly settling over him. The road ahead was still uncertain, filled with challenges and questions, but he knew he didn't have to face it alone. And for the first time in a long while, that thought brought him a measure of comfort.

Let's talk about something that will make you happy. Mika said looking at Ritsuka. How was your Mother she also died but she had to be different right

Ritsuka took a deep breath, composing himself as he looked at Mika. The mention of his mother brought a different set of emotions to the surface, a mix of warmth and sadness.

"My mother," Ritsuka began, his voice softening, "she was... everything my father wasn't. She was kind, loving, always there for me. She tried to shield me from my father's harshness, but there was only so much she could do."

He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he remembered her. "She had this way of making everything seem okay, even when it wasn't. She would tell me stories at night, about heroes and adventures, trying to give me a bit of hope, a bit of light in the darkness."

Mika listened intently, her hand still resting gently on his shoulder. "She sounds wonderful," she said softly. "How did she...?"

"She died when I was young," Ritsuka continued, his eyes glazing over with memories. "An illness. It was quick. One day she was there, and the next... she was gone."

He swallowed hard, pushing back the lump in his throat. "Her death changed everything. My father became even colder, more distant. It was like all the warmth and love in our home died with her."

Mika squeezed his shoulder, offering silent support. "I'm sorry, Ritsuka. It sounds like she was an amazing person."

"She was," Ritsuka agreed. "She was the best part of my life. Losing her was like losing a part of myself. But... I like to think that she's still with me, in a way. That everything good in me, everything kind, comes from her."

Mika smiled, her eyes softening. "She would be proud of you, you know. Despite everything, you've become someone strong, someone who fights for what they believe in."

Ritsuka nodded, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks, Mika. Talking about her... it helps. It reminds me of the good things, the things worth fighting for."

They stood in silence for a moment, looking out at the night sky. The stars seemed a bit brighter now, a bit closer.

"Let's make a promise," Mika said suddenly. "To remember the good things, the things that keep us going. No matter how dark it gets, we'll hold on to those."

Ritsuka looked at her, seeing the determination in her eyes. He nodded. "I promise."

And in that moment, surrounded by the memories of the past and the uncertain promise of the future, Ritsuka felt a glimmer of hope. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Little did they know, someone heard everything from the other side of the door. Aru, who had been lingering outside, listening in on the conversation, now sat with her back against the wall, processing what she had just learned. Ritsuka being Sensei's son was a bombshell, but hearing about his tragic past struck her deeply. She had intended to check up on Ritsuka, having noticed he seemed off lately, but now she felt overwhelmed by what she had discovered.

As the conversation inside the room concluded, Aru didn't move or open the door. Instead, she remained silent, letting her thoughts swirl. "Jesus," she muttered under her breath, "Ritsuka's backstory is straight out of a supervillain's origin."

Her mind raced, connecting the dots. Everything made more sense now—his cold demeanor, his reluctance to trust others, and his calculated actions. Aru had always seen herself as somewhat of a rogue, but Ritsuka's experiences painted a picture of someone who had faced far greater darkness.

After a while, she quietly stood up, slipping away from the door. She didn't want to confront him about it, not yet. She needed time to process this information. As she walked back to her own room, Aru's thoughts were a tangled mess of sympathy, understanding, and a newfound respect for Ritsuka. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for all the times she had underestimated or misjudged him.

"He's been through so much," she whispered to herself. "No wonder he acts the way he does."

That night, as Aru lay in bed, she resolved to approach Ritsuka differently. She wanted to be someone he could rely on, someone who understood him beyond the surface level. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to try.

As Aru lay on her bed, the weight of what she had heard weighed heavily on her mind. She stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"Supervillain backstory," Aru muttered to herself, shaking her head. "I mean, what else can I say?"

She rolled onto her side, her eyes landing on her gun lying on the nightstand. It gleamed in the dim light of her room, a constant reminder of the harsh reality they lived in.

"But one thing is clear," she continued, her voice resolute. "If Sensei ever goes back to what he was before he lost his memory and does anything to Ritsuka..."

Aru's gaze hardened, and she reached out to grip her gun, the cool metal grounding her resolve.

"I will end him," she vowed, her voice barely a whisper but filled with determination. "He's been through enough. I won't allow anyone to hurt him, not even his own father."

She tightened her grip on the gun, her mind made up. Aru knew it wouldn't be easy. Sensei was a formidable figure, even without his memories, but she was willing to do whatever it took to protect Ritsuka. He deserved a chance at a normal life, or as close to normal as possible in Kivotos. And if that meant standing against one of the most powerful people in their world, so be it.

Aru's thoughts drifted back to Ritsuka, to his haunted eyes and the pain he tried so hard to hide. She had seen glimpses of his vulnerability, and it had struck a chord within her. Despite his tough exterior, Ritsuka was still just a boy who had suffered more than anyone should have to. And she would be damned if she let him suffer any more.

With a deep breath, Aru placed the gun back on the nightstand and lay back down, closing her eyes. Tomorrow, she would start planning. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain: she would protect Ritsuka with everything she had.

As she drifted off to sleep, a new sense of purpose filled her. She wasn't just a rogue anymore. She was Ritsuka's ally, his protector. And she would fight for him, no matter what it took.

To be continued

Hope people like this Ch and give me power stones