He sat atop a building. A building he knew. It still reminds him on what happened here four years ago.

The rain sometimes drenched him to the bone and when he could he took a sip from a bottle of whiskey. The mesmerizing night view reflected in his heterochromatic blue eyes. For a moment, he was alone, but soon a blonde man joined him. They sat in silence, thinking about the past they once shared. Their eyes met, and despite everything, He couldn't help but see his father in the man beside him, though a part of him resisted. Similarly, the other man never stopped seeing him as his son. This moment for him seemed to last forever.

His mind was frozen on the thought that he can never return to him again.

And his was begging for him to come back.

Their bond had broken a long time ago. As they sat silently in the rain, both wondered if they could fix things.

"You're back," the blonde whispered.

"Yeah," he responded, his blue eyes piercing the night.

The blonde reached out his hand and smiled. His purple eyes reflecting his son infront of him.

"Allow me to try again. To make you believe that you're worth it. That you deserve to be with us."

He looked coldly at the other before placing his hand on his. But their hands never touched. They were so close but father and son felt so distant. As if they were never able to touch again, which was the truth. The blonde's eyes widened as the touch never happend. Even after all these years, he couldn't even feel his son's hand.

...

"One last time..."  he whispered. As his transparent hand was in his.

...

_____________________________________________________

Itsumi Yamamoto and Kazuto Takahashi were members of the Organization of Monster Execution, or short OfMe. They were fighters in a world nearly destroyed by war and overrun by "monsters." They were also the beings called "hybrids", they were a mix of human and "monster". There was no difference though, both were meant to kill and help destroying the world.

It was the year 3340. Itsumi and his friends had been trained to combat these enemies, equipped with weapons of their choice, suits, and high-tech equipment. Every country had several HQs; theirs was in Japan, known as HQ 2. Each HQ and country had a master, and Itsumi's master was Kazuto Takahashi, who had trained him and the others.

One day, they received what should have been an easy mission, but it went disastrously wrong. The mission was never completed. All of Itsumi's friends died; there were nine, including him ten. His best friend died protecting him, leaving Itsumi consumed with guilt.

Badly injured, Itsumi couldn't help them. The images of his friends being slaughtered haunted him, revealing the true horror of their world. It had been two months since that tragic day. Kazuto visited him regularly, concerned for his mental health. Itsumi hadn't slept in three days, and his mind was on the verge of breaking. His head ached, and he felt he might pass out at any moment. Kazuto entered his room again, looking at him with concern.

"Itsumi... you need to take care of your health. Look in the mirror, you look terrible," Kazuto said.

"Why? Do you actually care about me?" Itsumi responded coldly.

"Of course I do. You're one of my students, and I trained you myself."

Itsumi didn't reply. He wasn't interested in talking. Kazuto continued, "I know you feel horrible, and you have every right to be upset, but you can't neglect your health like this."

"Why should I bother?" Itsumi replied flatly. "Is there any reason?"

"Yes, there is. In about a week, you'll be assigned a new team. They need training, and you're more experienced than they are. They need your guidance."

"Fine, if you insist," Itsumi mumbled.

"Alright, but first, get some rest. We'll talk later," Kazuto said as he left the room.

Itsumi thought it was foolish to expect him to sleep when he couldn't. Nightmares plagued him, filled with images of his friends, bloody and dismembered. Sometimes they lay in pools of blood, their innards beside them, or were cut in half.

Struggling, Itsumi stood up, his legs shaking. He could barely walk but made his way to the medical room. Sitting down, he bandaged his wounds anew. He searched for sleeping pills, found some, and took them with a glass of water before lying down, waiting for the pills to take effect. Finally, after half an hour, he closed his eyes.

Eleven hours later, Itsumi woke up. His hair was messy, and he looked in the mirror. 

"Master was right... I really do look horrible," he thought. His eye bags weren't as bad as he expected, but his body was covered in scars, with a particularly large one over his left eye, which had left him partially blind in that eye. He brushed and tied his hair.

Kazuto entered the room again. "You look slightly better," he remarked.

Itsumi didn't answer immediately. He put on a shirt and said, "I'll go train."

"Before you do that, get something to eat," Kazuto insisted.

Without responding, Itsumi walked out of the room. 

"Maybe he really does care... I don't know," Itsumi thought, feeling conflicted. Following Kazuto's advice, he went to the kitchen and ate, having lost weight from not eating properly in the past days.

Afterward, Itsumi headed to the training room. He started with basic exercises like stretching and running on the treadmill. After a short break, he wrapped his arms and hands in athletic tape and began punching a punching bag. After an hour, he finished with a final punch and a kick.

"How long did you plan on watching me?" he asked.

Kazuto stepped forward. "Looks like you noticed me."

"I did...I could hear your breath."

"You did well. Just don't overdo it."

"Thank you... but I want to continue. There's no need for you to watch," Itsumi said, and Kazuto left without another word.

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"I get that he's worried, but I need space to sort through this," Itsumi thought.

After two more hours of training, he finally finished. He returned to his room, took a shower, and went to bed. Five days passed, filled with training and solitude. The emptiness felt oddly comforting. On the last day before meeting the new team, Kazuto entered his room again.

"Hello Itsumi, I just wanted to see how you are doing. How is your health? Is your recovery going well?"

"I'm fine," Itsumi replied, keeping his tone even.

"Do you still need time?" Kazuto asked.

"No," Itsumi stood up and continued. 

"I'm getting there... I can't change the past, can I? I have to live with this burden. It is what it is, right? I have no other choice."

"If that's your decision, I respect it as long as you're managing," Kazuto said. He turned to leave but paused when Itsumi called out to him.

"Master..."

"Yes?"

"I've been rude to you these past days—"

Kazuto interrupted him. "It's alright. You've been through a lot. Just take it one step at a time." He left the room.

On the last day, Itsumi decided to relax. After eating, he rested for a while on his bed before walking around the headquarters. His scars hadn't faded, but they had healed enough for him to move well. Time passed quickly, and he went to sleep, bracing himself for the next day.

Once again, the nightmares plagued him. Itsumi tossed and turned, his teammates' brutal deaths replaying in his mind. Their screams echoed in his ears, and he could almost feel the blood and chaos around him. Each nightmare seemed more intense than the last, denying him any peace.

He jolted awake, drenched in sweat, heart racing. He glanced at the clock: 3:21 AM. He knew sleep wouldn’t come easily after that.

Dragging himself out of bed, Itsumi dressed and headed to the training room. The HQ was silent, his footsteps echoing down the empty hallways. The training room was dimly lit, an eerie quiet settling over it. He wrapped his hands, letting the ritual calm him as he approached the punching bag.

As he punched, he let his thoughts run wild. He remembered the faces of his friends, the camaraderie they shared, the promises that were left unfulfilled. Each punch was a release, but also a reminder of his failures. His exhaustion fueled him, but his mind fought back, blaming him with every strike.

After an hour, Itsumi collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. His body was spent, but his mind was still restless. He squeezed his eyes shut, the memories still vivid. He knew he needed to confront them, but the path forward was unclear. He slammed his fist against the floor, the pain a dull reminder that he was still here, still fighting.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Itsumi looked up, surprised to see Kazuto standing in the doorway.

"I can't sleep," Itsumi admitted, his voice strained. "The nightmares... they won't stop."

Kazuto walked over and leaned against the wall. "You can't keep punishing yourself like this. It won't change anything."

"I know," Itsumi whispered. "But I don't know how to move on. I don't know how to live with this guilt."

Kazuto sighed, keeping a respectful distance. "You don't have to do it alone. We’re all here trying to make sense of this mess."

Itsumi looked at him, grateful for the understanding, but still lost. He nodded, though words felt unnecessary.

"Let’s get your hand bandaged," Kazuto said, noting the blood. "And then try to get some rest. Tomorrow's another day."

As they walked back to his room, Itsumi felt a slight weight lift. It wasn't much, but it was something. Kazuto was just his mentor, maybe a little more like family at times, but Itsumi knew he had to figure this out for himself too.

Kazuto opened the door, letting Itsumi enter first. "Just do what you can tomorrow. It's okay to take it slow. If you want i'll go outside. You can take over monitoring."

"I will be fine i think..." Itsumi replied quietly, appreciating the space Kazuto gave him. Kazuto gave him a small nod, turning off the light and closing the door.

Alone in the darkness, Itsumi let his body relax, the tension slowly easing. For the first time in a while, he felt like he might get through the night without the worst of the nightmares.

In the room across the hall, Kazuto lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He glanced at his ring, a token of a past he rarely spoke of. He sighed softly, his own thoughts clouded with regret and memories. Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it brought with it shadows of his own battles to face.

Itsumi woke up, a bit more rested. He made himself ready and clicked on his watch to quickly change his clothes.

As Itsumi went past the kitchen, he sighed and walked past by it.

Itsumi entered the briefing room, nine new recruits stood before him, all between the ages of 15 and 16. Among them were five girls and four boys, their young faces marked with a mix of nervousness and determination. Each of them wore the standard black combat suits of the Organization of Monster Execution, eager to prove themselves but clearly unaware of the true horrors that awaited them in the field.

Kazuto, standing off to the side, watched quietly as Itsumi sized up the group. The weight of responsibility settled on Itsumi's shoulders as he realized the task ahead of him. These weren't just soldiers in training — they were teenagers, he didn't know if they took training when they were younger. It didn't look like it, so Itsumi already thought this team wouldn't hold long.

Stepping forward, Itsumi introduced himself, his voice calm but firm. "I'm Itsumi Yamamoto. I'll be responsible for your training. From now on, your lifes depend on how well you do and how much you're willing to learn."

The group stood in silence, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear. They had all heard stories about him, and the failed mission that had left him the sole survivor. Some of them exchanged nervous glances, but none dared speak.

"Let’s make one thing clear," Itsumi continued, his tone hardening. "This isn’t just training. Out there, hesitation and mistakes mean death. Learn as fast as possible. I hate it when people hesitate. I won’t sugarcoat it — someone will always die, but if you listen to me and follow my lead, you’ll stand a better chance."

One of the boys, his dark eyes steady and inquisitive, raised his hand hesitantly. "Is it true you lost your whole team on your last mission, Mr. Yamamoto?"

Itsumi’s chest tightened, but he forced himself to answer. "If no, why would you be here?" he asked, his voice flat.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as the recruits processed this. Kazuto, who had been watching from the back, finally stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension. "Focus on your future, not on the past. If you work hard, you might  survive."

The recruits nodded, though the weight of what they had just heard was clearly on their minds. Itsumi, determined to move forward, gestured toward the door. "Let’s head to the training room. We can't waste time."

The recruits filed out of the room in uneasy silence, their footsteps heavy as they followed Itsumi down the dimly lit corridor. Kazuto walked beside him, glancing over at his son. He could see the tension in Itsumi’s jaw, the haunted look that never quite left his eyes since the fateful mission. It wasn’t an easy burden to bear, and Kazuto knew better than anyone that the loss of his team had left scars far deeper than the ones on Itsumi’s body.

“Any first impression?” Kazuto asked quietly, not wanting the recruits to overhear.

Itsumi didn’t respond immediately. He kept his eyes forward, the sound of boots echoing in the narrow hallway. “Not so sure” he said at last. “They seem weak. Not my problem if they dont learn well."

Kazuto frowned but said nothing.

He knew that this loss will be different than the other for Itsumi, since he grew up with two of the members named Haru and Saeko.

As they reached the training facility, the recruits' eyes widened at the sight. The room was massive, equipped with everything they could need to simulate real combat: obstacle courses, shooting ranges, virtual fighting rooms, and even combat dummies designed to mimic the movements of real monsters.

Itsumi turned to face the group, his expression cold and unreadable. “This is where you learn to survive. We’ll start simple — endurance and strength. If you can’t manage this, you’re of no use out there.”

He pointed toward a row of treadmills. “Get on. One hour, no stopping."

The recruits hesitated for a moment, their eyes darting nervously between each other. But no one moved.

Kazuto sighed, stepping forward. "What did he just say about hesitation?" he said softly.

At that, the recruits scrambled into action, rushing to the treadmills and starting them up. Itsumi watched them, arms crossed, his sharp gaze monitoring their every movement. Already, he could see who would struggle the most and who might have a chance to make it.

"Dont be so harsh." Kazuto demanded.

"Its also not my problem if they cant listen well, they should go to a doctor then and not be here." Itsumi said in annoyance.

Kazuto chuckled. And then Itsumi noticed a red-haired girl. And immediantly said something

"You, eyes forward," Itsumi commanded, his voice like steel.

"Focus. Out there, if you lose focus for even a second, you're dead."

The girl nodded, her face red with effort, but Itsumi wasn’t convinced.

"I'll take it from here, go rest Itsumi. You look tired."

"If you say so" and Itsumi left.

That was the reality of the Organization of Monster Execution — and it was time these recruits learned it.