Kazuki stirred awake, his eyes landing on Selena, who was still fast asleep, her face peaceful as she breathed evenly. Glancing toward the window, he saw the world outside was still cloaked in the soft, muted tones of early dawn. With a quiet sigh, he murmured to himself, “Might as well take a bath while it's quiet.”
He reached over, picked up his mask, and left their room quietly. Descending the stairs, he approached the innkeeper, who was polishing a glass behind the counter. "Excuse me. Where’s the bathhouse?" he asked.
The innkeeper nodded, pointing down a narrow hallway. “Just through there.”
Kazuki made his way to the bathhouse, stripping down to his mask and undergarments. He peeked inside and, to his surprise, saw a handful of other men already there, chatting quietly as they washed up. “So much for being early,” he muttered, entering and feeling the weight of their eyes shift to him as he stepped into the steamy bath area.
As Kazuki settled into the water, he became uncomfortably aware of the curious gazes fixed on him. The scars that marked his arms, torso, and hands were hard to ignore—each one a painful memory, a battle hard-fought, a narrow escape. But these strangers didn’t know that. They just saw the hardened, damaged surface.
After about an hour, Kazuki returned to the room, feeling slightly more refreshed. When he opened the door, he found Selena already awake, humming to herself as she organized their belongings. She turned around, and her eyes widened, taking in his unmasked face and the array of scars that crossed his body. She opened her mouth, clearly taken aback. “Kazuki…those scars—where did they come from?”
Kazuki’s face hardened as he averted his gaze, memories flashing through his mind. His fists clenched involuntarily as he recalled moments he’d rather forget: the grueling training, the cruel betrayal of his friend Ayane, and, worst of all, the death of his friend Sato—a death Kazuki hadn’t been able to prevent.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and answered in a low voice. “The past isn’t something I want to dig up,” he said, his words curt as he disappeared into the next room to change.
When he finally reemerged, Selena had finished preparing a simple meal for them both. She motioned to the small table, a bright smile on her face. “Come on, sit down! I made us breakfast,” she said, trying to lift the atmosphere.
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They ate in relative silence, but after a while, Kazuki looked at her and said, “There’s something we need to get for you.”
“Hmm? What is it?” Selena asked, curious.
“A mask,” he replied, his tone steady and serious. She was about to protest, but he interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “We’ll be safer if our faces are hidden. Enemies might recognize us, and the last thing we need is unnecessary attention. Besides…” he paused, giving her a sideways glance, “didn’t you say you wanted your family to accept you again? I’m guessing things aren’t exactly...resolved with them. Keeping a low profile might help you handle that.”
Selena nodded, her face dropping slightly at the reminder of her family. She didn’t say anything, but the quiet, troubled look in her eyes spoke volumes. Her mind raced with doubt—Would they even accept her back after everything that happened?
Kazuki watched her, a spark of understanding in his gaze, before he gave a slight nod toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get it over with.”
They left the inn and wandered through the streets of Mirkdusk. The city was lively, with vendors setting up stalls and announcing the upcoming festival. After a few minutes, a loud voice caught their attention.
“Get your masks here! Perfect for the Carnival of Forgotten Faces, coming next week!” a vendor bellowed, his hands gesturing grandly toward an array of colorful, intricately designed masks.
Kazuki turned to Selena. “Go on. Find one that suits you.”
Selena carefully examined the selection, her fingers grazing over the different patterns and colors. Finally, she picked a mask—a soft, greyish white with delicate purple lines that swirled across the surface like a gentle mist. She paid the vendor and walked back over to Kazuki, holding it up with a proud smile.
“This is the one,” she said, showing it to him. Kazuki nodded approvingly, a faint smile hidden beneath his own mask.
Meanwhile, in a dark room in the city, a group of masked figures gathered, shadows flickering around them in the dim light. One figure, wearing a tattered scavenger's cloak, whispered to the man at the head of the room, “Hey, Roberto, are we sure this year’s festival is the right time?”
The leader, a tall man with a prominent scar running across his face, rose slowly from his chair. He raised his hand, a glimmer of fiery light igniting in his palm, casting an eerie glow over the masked figures kneeling before him. “Yes,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “This year’s Carnival of Forgotten Faces will be our moment of redemption.”
With a flick of his wrist, the small flame burst into a roaring blaze, illuminating the room and the masked figures surrounding him. Each one wore an expression of grim resolve, their gazes locked onto Roberto as he declared, “Prepare yourselves. When the festival begins, we’ll show this city who we really are.”