The morning air was crisp as the team prepared for departure. Hiro stood on the mountain's edge, watching the sun rise over the peaks, his mind focused on what lay ahead. Today, after ten years of waiting, he would finally face one of those responsible for his family's death.
"Ready to go, dragon boy?" Kuroka's voice carried a note of anticipation as she approached, now dressed in her black combat gear.
"More than ready," Hiro replied, turning away from the sunrise. The Shadow Wolf hung at his side, and Le Fay's stabilizer bracelet rested warm against his wrist.
Vali gathered the team in the main hall. "The plan hasn't changed despite knowing it's a trap. Hiro, you'll infiltrate from the east entrance while Bikou creates a distraction at the main gate. Arthur and Le Fay will handle external security, and Kuroka will maintain portal positions for quick extraction."
"And if Malthus has backup from other Fallen Angels?" Arthur asked, adjusting Caliburn's position.
"Then we deal with them," Hiro said simply, his voice carrying a cold finality. "Nothing stops me from reaching him today."
The journey to Tokyo passed in focused silence. They traveled via Le Fay's teleportation circles, arriving at a safe house several blocks from the target compound. From the roof, Hiro could see their destination—a non-descript office building that housed Malthus's meeting.
"Intelligence confirms he's on the seventh floor," Vali reported, lowering his binoculars. "Three exits, heavy security on all levels. They're definitely expecting us."
"Good," Hiro murmured, his eyes fixed on the building. "I want him to know I'm coming."
Kuroka moved to his side, her amber eyes serious. "Remember, the plan is to extract you after you get what you need from him. Don't go in thinking this is a suicide mission."
"I won't," Hiro assured her, though his focus remained on the target building.
At precisely 3 PM, the operation began. Bikou's assault on the main entrance was spectacular—his extending staff smashed through the lobby windows as he engaged the visible security forces. Alarms blared, and reinforcements rushed to contain the "obvious" threat.
Meanwhile, Hiro slipped through the east service entrance, his movements silent as shadows. The Kuro Okami-Ryū had taught him more than swordplay—it had taught him to move like death itself.
The building's interior was a maze of corridors and offices, but Hiro had memorized the layout. He encountered three guards on his way to the seventh floor, dispatching them with precise strikes of the Shadow Wolf's hilt—unconscious, not dead. He wasn't here for them.
The seventh floor was eerily quiet when he arrived. Too quiet. Hiro drew the Shadow Wolf completely, its silver blade gleaming in the fluorescent light.
"I was wondering when you'd arrive."
The voice came from the far end of the hallway. A tall man in an expensive suit stepped into view, his dark hair perfectly styled despite the chaos downstairs. Malthus looked exactly as he had in the photograph Vali had shown him, though ten years had added lines around his cold gray eyes.
"You're younger than I expected," Malthus continued conversationally. "The vessel of Yamata no Orochi, I presume? We've been monitoring your activities since you joined that mongrel Vali."
"Monitoring," Hiro repeated, his voice deadly calm. "Like you monitored my family before you murdered them?"
Malthus laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Murder? Such a crude term. We were cleaning up loose ends. Your family had served their purpose as guardians of that beast's prison. Their usefulness had expired."
Rage flared through Hiro, but it was cold rage—the kind that sharpened rather than clouded judgment. "Their purpose? You mean protecting a Sacred Gear you wanted to steal?"
"Steal?" Malthus seemed genuinely amused. "Boy, you understand nothing. We weren't there to steal anything. We were there to ensure it was properly… contained."
In a blur of motion, Hiro launched forward with Ikkitōsen—The Warrior Who Equals a Thousand. The lightning-fast draw should have ended the fight immediately, but Malthus was ready. Black wings erupted from his back as he leaped aside, light spears forming in his hands.
"You want answers?" Malthus called out as he fired the spears of light. "Then survive long enough to hear them!"
Hiro deflected the spears with the Shadow Wolf, the blade singing as it cut through the light constructs. He immediately transitioned into Kiba no Shippū, a flurry of precise strikes aimed at vital points.
Malthus was fast, faster than the stray devil Hiro had fought months ago. He managed to evade most of the strikes, though the Shadow Wolf opened a cut across his cheek and another along his arm.
"Impressive," the Fallen Angel acknowledged, touching the blood on his face. "Your technique is flawless. But technique alone won't save you from the truth."
"What truth?" Hiro demanded, pressing his attack with Shizukesa no Mai—The Dance of Silence. He seemed to flicker in and out of perception, striking from impossible angles.
"The truth about why your family really died!" Malthus roared, his power exploding outward in a wave of corrupted light. "They weren't just guardians—they were the key to keeping that monster dormant! And when they refused to hand you over…"
Hiro's blood ran cold. "Hand me over?"
"Oh yes," Malthus grinned maniacally as he formed a massive light spear. "We came for you, boy. Your family died because they wouldn't surrender their child to us."
The revelation hit Hiro like a physical blow. He had assumed his family died because they were guardians of the temple, but they had died because they refused to give him up?
"He speaks truth, mixed with lies," Orochi's voice rumbled in his mind. "Focus, vessel. Your family chose to protect you. Honor that choice."
Malthus hurled the massive spear, but Hiro was no longer there. Le Fay's bracelet grew warm against his wrist as he focused on a new emotion—not just rage, but protective fury. If they had come for him as a child, if his family had died to protect him, then he would make their sacrifice meaningful.
With a flash of black-red light, Kaen—the Flamebane—materialized in his left hand. The blade seemed to drink in the light around it, wreathed in dark flames that didn't burn him but promised agony to his enemies.
"Two blades?" Malthus's confidence wavered for the first time. "Impossible. The files said—"
"Your files were incomplete," Hiro interrupted, advancing with both weapons. The Shadow Wolf in his right hand, Kaen in his left—death and damnation made manifest.
The final exchange was brief and brutal. Malthus fought with desperate fury, his light spears and waves of corrupted energy filling the air. But Hiro moved like a force of nature, the techniques of the Kuro Okami-Ryū flowing seamlessly with his Sacred Gear's power.
Kaen's dark flames consumed Malthus's light constructs while the Shadow Wolf found its mark again and again. When the Fallen Angel finally stumbled, both blades were at his throat.
"Last words," Hiro said quietly. "Who ordered the attack? Who gave the command to kill my family?"
Malthus laughed, blood frothing at his lips. "You think… you think this ends with me? This was just the beginning. The old powers are stirring, boy. The factions have made their peace, but there are those of us who remember what it means to have real strength."
"A name," Hiro pressed, Kaen's flames licking closer to the Fallen Angel's skin.
"Baraqiel," Malthus gasped. "It was Baraqiel who ordered it. One of the leaders of the Grigori. But even he… even he was following orders from above."
"Above?"
"The Seraphs… they fear what you carry. What you might become." Malthus's eyes were growing dim. "This… this won't bring them back, you know. Killing me, killing all of us… your family is still dead."
"I know," Hiro said softly. "But they'll have justice."
He drove the Shadow Wolf through Malthus's heart, then let Kaen's flames consume the body. Within moments, nothing remained but ash and the lingering scent of burnt ozone.
"It is done," Orochi said with satisfaction. "The first payment on an old debt."
Hiro allowed Kaen to dissipate, but kept the Shadow Wolf drawn as he made his way back through the building. The other team members had already extracted, leaving the way clear for his escape.
He found Kuroka waiting at the rendezvous point, her amber eyes immediately scanning him for injuries.
"Is it done?" she asked quietly.
"The first part," Hiro confirmed. "Malthus is dead. But he told me things… about who really ordered the attack."
"Later," she said firmly, opening a portal. "Right now, we get you somewhere safe."
The return to the mountain base passed in a blur. Hiro felt strangely hollow, as if something he'd carried for ten years had suddenly been excised. Malthus was dead, but the victory felt incomplete. There were others—Baraqiel, unnamed Seraphs, an entire conspiracy that had targeted his family.
But for tonight, it was enough.
Hours later, after debriefing with Vali and the others, Hiro found himself standing on the balcony of his quarters, staring out at the star-filled sky. The Shadow Wolf rested on the table inside, cleaned and sheathed.
A soft knock at his door drew his attention. "Come in," he called, knowing who it would be.
Kuroka entered, now dressed in that same black silk robe she'd worn before. But this time, there was no games, no teasing. Just a woman coming to the man she cared about after a difficult day.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, moving to stand beside him at the balcony railing.
"Empty," Hiro admitted. "I thought killing him would feel different. More… final."
"Revenge rarely feels the way we expect it to," she said softly. "The first time I killed the devil who murdered my master, I felt hollow for weeks."
"How did you get past it?"
"By realizing that living well was the best vengeance of all." She turned to face him fully. "Your family didn't die so you could become a tool of vengeance, Hiro. They died to protect you. To give you a chance at life."
"And what kind of life is that, when I'm marked for death by Seraphs?"
Kuroka's hand cupped his cheek, turning his face to meet her gaze. "The kind where you don't have to face it alone anymore."
Before he could respond, she kissed him. Not with the desperate hunger of passion, but with tenderness and comfort and promise.
When they separated, her amber eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"Come back to me," she whispered, echoing words from another time. "You kept your promise today. You came back. Now let me show you what that means to me."
She took his hand and led him back inside, drawing him to sit with her on the bed. This time, there was no hesitation, no questioning of motives. This was comfort and understanding and affirmation of life in the face of death.
She kissed him softly, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. When they separated, she simply held him close, offering the warmth of human connection after the cold brutality of his mission.
"You don't have to carry this alone anymore," she whispered against his ear.
"I know," he replied quietly, finally allowing himself to accept the comfort she offered.
They talked quietly as the night deepened, Kuroka's head eventually coming to rest on his shoulder as he held her close. The mountain night was cool, but they found warmth in each other's presence.
"So what happens now?" she asked softly. "Malthus is dead, but you said there were others."
"Baraqiel," Hiro said, his voice hard. "According to Malthus, he was the one who ordered the attack. And behind him, unnamed Seraphs who apparently fear what I might become."
"The Seraphs…" Kuroka murmured thoughtfully. "That complicates things. They're not just powerful—they're protected by the new peace treaties."
"Treaties can be broken," Hiro replied simply.
She lifted her head to look at him. "And if going after them puts you in opposition to all three factions? What then?"
Hiro was quiet for a long moment, his hand stilling in her hair. "Then I'll face whatever comes. But I won't abandon my family's memory. Not when I'm so close to the truth."
"I know," she said, settling back against his chest. "And I'll be with you. Whatever comes, you won't face it alone."
"Even if it means becoming enemies of heaven itself?"
"Especially then," she replied with a soft laugh. "I've always preferred bad boys anyway."
Despite everything, Hiro found himself smiling. For the first time in ten years, he could imagine a future beyond his quest for vengeance. A future with this remarkable woman who had somehow seen past his darkness to the man beneath.
"Get some sleep," Kuroka murmured against his skin. "Tomorrow we start planning the next phase. But tonight… tonight is ours."
Hiro closed his eyes, holding her close. Malthus was dead. Answers had been found. And in his arms lay proof that he had something to live for beyond revenge.
"You have grown, vessel," Orochi's voice whispered in his mind as sleep approached. "From a boy consumed by hatred to a man capable of love. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."
"Perhaps," Hiro replied silently. "But first, there's still work to be done."
"Indeed. But now you have a reason to return home when that work is finished."
As sleep claimed him, Hiro's last conscious thought was that Orochi was right. He had found something worth fighting for beyond vengeance. And that, more than any weapon or power, might be what it took to face the trials ahead.
The hunt for justice would continue. But he was no longer hunting alone.