Fate's Edge

Chapitre 2 : Shadows of Homecoming

Two weeks prior to the clandestine meeting that would set the stage for a confrontation of fates, Darius Vallory found himself ensnared in a web of his own making.

Beside him, his son, Ethan Vallory, shared the weight of a looming decision. In the dim light of their ancestral study, filled with books that whispered of past glories and shadows of betrayal, the two men contemplated their next move.

The name Zoe, Darius's niece, once banished to the fringes of their memory, now resurfaced as a beacon of hope—or desperation.

With a heavy heart, Darius commanded his most trusted men to find Zoe, his brother's daughter, whose existence he had tried to erase from his conscience as well as from the world.

Yet, fate, as ever, proved a capricious master. Reports came back empty; Zoe was a ghost, vanished from the records of every orphanage in Japan. Perhaps she had changed her name, or perhaps she had never been there at all. The uncertainty gnawed at Darius, a reminder of the past that refused to stay buried.

A sharp yell pierced the serene silence of the morning,

"Hikari! It's already 10 AM! Time to move and shake off the night's cobwebs!"

The voice belonged to her coach, Mikhail Romanov, a former professional athlete whose stature was as imposing as his reputation. With a build that spoke of years in the ring and a face marked by experience, Mikhail was both mentor and guardian, pushing Zoe beyond her limits.

Hikari stirred from her sleep, her body a map of bruises and cuts, each a testament to the previous day's battle.

The competition, a grueling decathlon of disparate sports, demanded not only physical prowess but strategic acumen. Ten competitors, each a master in their own right, were pitted against each other in a series of challenges that spanned from martial arts to extreme sports, with no holds barred. The prize? A staggering $100,000. Hikari had emerged victorious, not through brute strength alone but through a combination of agility, intelligence, and an unyielding will to prevail.

Despite the evidence of physical ordeal, her ethereal beauty shone undiminished. Rosy lips, piercing blue eyes, and blonde hair framed a face that seemed almost otherworldly. Yet, it was her spirit, indomitable and fierce, that truly set her apart.

Reluctantly, she heeded Mikhail's call, dragging herself toward the bathroom. The water was a balm, washing away the sweat and grime, but not the memories of the competition that had earned her those marks. Clad in comfortable clothes and a hat to shield her injuries from prying eyes, she followed Mikhail to a quaint little restaurant nearby.

As she slumped into a chair at the restaurant, her body cried for rest, but her mind raced with the adrenaline of victory. Mikhail approached the cashier, placing their order while casting a protective glance back at Hikari.

In the cacophony of the morning rush, she found a moment of peace, her head resting on the cool surface of the table, a warrior in repose.

The restaurant's morning tranquility shattered like glass under the weight of unexpected words. Hikari, her body still echoing with the fatigue of victory, lifted her head, expecting the familiar, comforting presence of Mikhail.

Confusion furrowed Hikari's brow as she responded in Japanese, the language of her chosen solitude,

"Did you order the usual?

tsumo no wo chūmon shita no?

いつものを注文したの？"

Instead, her eyes met those of a stranger, a young man whose smile was too knowing, too sharp, like a blade cloaked in silk.