Rakan's heart skipped, a sharp thud against his ribs. The words echoed in his ears—Ka'ro. He didn't know why, but the sound of it left an uncomfortable hollow in his chest, like something he should have known, something buried deep within his bones.
The stranger's gaze, half-amused, flickered over him, as if waiting for something.
The man leaned back, pushing his plate away with a nonchalant motion and stretching his legs out under the table. "I was hoping you'd ask," he said, his tone almost too casual, as if they weren't talking about some life-altering revelation. "I suppose I should start with the basics, huh? Yeah, the world you live in? That's only half the story."
Rakan's brows furrowed. His pulse forgoing a beat, but he kept his voice steady. "Half? What the hell does that even mean?"
His gaze flickered over Rakan, a spark of something behind his eyes—was it amusement? Or something darker, something that Rakan couldn't quite place? "You know how there are those things you feel, the things you can't quite explain, the way some people… click with things around them? Or how you sometimes feel like there's something you should remember but can't?" He paused, tapping the side of his glass, a lazy motion that made it look like he wasn't truly invested in the conversation. "That's Ka'ro, my friend. That's the connection."
The word felt like it belonged to a shadow—his shadow—something that had been following him for years. His heart pounded a little harder in his chest, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't going to let this smug bastard see that he was rattled.
The man didn't seem to care whether Rakan responded. He leaned forward, his fingers tracing the edge of his cup, his eyes flicking to Rakan with that same unreadable gleam. "You didn't know it, of course. Most people don't. But it's been there, simmering beneath the surface." He let the words hang between them like a thread, taut and sharp.
Rakan swallowed. "What's this got to do with you, then? You… you're just a guy, right?" His voice cracked on the word 'guy,' as if it was supposed to be some shield. Some armor he could hide behind. But it felt thin, fragile, like the pretense it was.
Who was he kidding? No 'just a guy' could do the things he's seen this man do, knew all he did.
The man raised an eyebrow. "Just a guy, huh? I guess that's one way to put it." He let out a soft chuckle again, a sound that seemed to pierce the air. "Just a guy, an everyday Joe with otherworldly prowess."
Rakan blinked, not sure whether to laugh or punch him in the face. "Are you… talking about magic?" he asked, trying to steady his breath. "Are you saying there's some supernatural crap going on? You expect me to believe that?"
The man chuckled, an easy sound that made Rakan feel all the more tense. "What's so hard to believe? Magic's just a fancy word for things you don't understand yet. Ka'ro—that's the power. The stuff that runs through everything, through us. It's… how things are balanced." His lips curled into something too smooth, like he was savoring the moment. "And you, Rakan… you've got it. Ka'ro. You've been feeling it for a while now, haven't you?"
Rakan froze.
That word again.
Ka'ro.
The stranger leaned back in his seat, eyes dancing with a quiet amusement, like he was watching the gears of Rakan's mind shift, turn, and struggle to piece things together.
"Well," the man said, stretching out lazily, "in layman's terms? It's a force—no, a power, if you want to get technical. It's the fabric of everything."
Rakan blinked, leaning forward slightly, the confusion thickening. "The fabric of everything? What the hell does that mean?"
The stranger's grin grew wider, more playful, but there was something sharp underneath. "It means it binds the worlds. All of them, not just yours. There are layers—things you can't see, things you've never thought to look for. Ka'ro is in everything you see, everything you don't. The air you breathe, the sky above you, the earth beneath your feet, and—"
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring his words, carefully. "And the people, too. Those who are born with the potential to wield it. To shape it. To be it."
Rakan felt the weight of the words press on his chest. He swallowed, his throat dry. "So… you're saying… this thing, Ka'ro, is what gives people power?" He paused, then, unable to hold back the question, asked, "And what does it have to do with me?"
The stranger didn't answer immediately, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. The sound was oddly soothing, but there was no comfort in the words that came next.
"It has everything to do with you," he said, voice dropping lower, something dark flickering behind his eyes for a brief, imperceptible moment. "You're not as… human as you think you are."
Rakan flinched. The words settled like a weight in his stomach, coiling in a knot that twisted tighter with every beat of his heart. He opened his mouth to speak, but the man was already leaning forward, his expression a mix of amusement and something else—a knowing, quiet gaze that made Rakan feel like he was being seen through.
"You're asking about Ka'ro, but what you should really be asking is about Kyōgai."
Rakan narrowed his eyes. "Kyōgai? What the hell is that?"
The stranger gave a slow smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Kyōgai is the world I come from," he said. "The one you've never heard of. The one that exists just beyond your reach. It's where the true wielders of Ka'ro live—the Kages, the ones who control it."
Rakan's head spun, trying to process the cascade of new information. "Kages? I still don't understand. What's all this have to do with me?"
"All in good time," the man replied, his tone light and teasing, but his eyes—those eyes—held something deeper, something he was choosing not to reveal just yet. "But first… I should probably introduce myself, if I'm going to keep dragging you through this mess of mine."
Rakan blinked, startled out of his spiraling thoughts. The man was looking at him with a faint, knowing smirk, and for the first time, he realized the stranger had never actually told him his name.
"I suppose I've been rude," the man said, his voice light, carefree once again, "though I was hoping you'd just know my name by now. But then again, that would be too easy, wouldn't it?"
He leaned forward, eyes glinting with the same quiet mischief that had been there all along. "My name's Mazanka. But normally people just call me great."
Rakan's brow furrowed, ignoring the last part of the man's introduction. "Mazanka?"
The man nodded with a slight tilt of his head, the faintest hint of a smile still playing at the edges of his lips. "You may not be familiar with it, but that's alright. It'll stick, eventually."
Rakan didn't know what to make of that, but before he could say anything more, Mazanka waved a lazy hand, dismissing any further questions.
"Now," he continued, settling back into his seat, "about Kyōgai, the Kages, and why I'm in your world, messing things up…"
Rakan clenched his jaw. "Hold on. You're in my world?" His voice came out sharper than he intended. "I don't even know what the hell you're talking about, and now you're telling me you're not even from here?"
Mazanka's grin stretched wider, eyes flashing with something Rakan couldn't quite decipher. "Not from here, no. And that's exactly why I need you to listen carefully, kid. The people from my world don't take kindly to those who betray them. And they don't like it when someone from their world gets too comfortable in yours."
Rakan stiffened. "What does that mean?"
Mazanka's expression didn't falter, but something about the way his eyes darkened made Rakan instinctively lean forward. "They're called the Kenshiki-no-Kage. The Shadow Council. The ones who guard the barrier between your world and mine."
"The barrier?" Rakan echoed, voice barely above a whisper. His thoughts felt jagged, his pulse racing as fragments of this strange conversation floated around him.
"Yeah. The barrier. They keep the two worlds separated. Protect one from the other. It's not a simple job. And when someone like me breaks the rules…" He trailed off, lips curling slightly. "Let's just say they get… nasty about it."
Rakan's heart skipped a beat. "You mean… you're being hunted?" His words came out before he could stop them.
Mazanka's lips twitched into a smile, but there was something too sharp about it. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'm far too charming to get caught." He grinned wider, the expression more teeth than anything else.
There was a sudden shift in the air, like a tension tightening around them. Mazanka leaned in just slightly, eyes gleaming. "But not just by the Kenshiki-no-Kage. There's a lot of interest in someone like me. Someone who strays from the rules. And the longer I stay here…" He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, let's just say I've earned a bit of a reputation."
Rakan's mind raced, processing everything at once, the weight of it all settling heavy in his chest. He'd felt it before, but now it was clear. This wasn't just some random encounter. This was something bigger—something much bigger than he could've imagined. Something that pulled him into a world he didn't understand.
Mazanka's eyes flicked over him, reading his expression. "So, what's it going to be, kid? You gonna keep listening to me and let me tell you everything, or you gonna pretend this whole thing didn't happen?"
Rakan stared at him, his gut twisting. He didn't have a choice. "I… I need answers," he said, voice tight.
Mazanka nodded, eyes gleaming with something like satisfaction, before returning to his laid-back, almost bored expression. "Good. You won't regret it."
As they sat in silence, Mazanka's hand slid under the table, and he casually reached for the chopsticks, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn't rush, didn't hurry. Just the act of a man who'd been through too much to worry about what came next.
Rakan opened his mouth to ask more, but Mazanka raised a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Patience, kid. We've got a lot to talk about, but first, we eat."
Rakan glared at him but said nothing. This whole situation was bizarre, and his gut told him he was on the verge of something huge, something dangerous.
But what else could he do?