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... secret refusing to be spoken.

Himari stood outside the house, fingers brushing over a burned paper charm she had drawn the night before. Its edges weren't singed by fire, but by something far older—something she hadn't felt in centuries.

"His aura changed," she whispered, barely audible over the breeze. "Something touched him."

She glanced through the window where Yuki was resting again, Aiko quietly watching over him. He looked calm—but it wasn't peace. It was contained ...

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