The stone at the edge of the cliff.
Every night, at the same hour, Renji would sit on it.
The stone was cold. The wind, sharp.
Renji always wished the wind would carry away his worst memories.
But whenever it blew, those memories returned with the same cruel clarity.
Tonight, however… the wind carried something else.
A small, faint shadow.
A fragile figure—barely standing against the gusts. It was surprising that such a body could endure winds like these.
Renji noticed him from afar.
No one ever came to this place.
It was a place where only the wind spoke.
He… was a child. Perhaps ten years old.
Wearing tattered clothes. A slave mark burned into his neck.
His hair was a tangled mess.
But none of that was what set him apart.
One of his eyes was ordinary.
The other, under the light of the full moon, was unmistakable:
Pale white. Cursed.
Every person was born with a crimson mark in their eyes.
When Renji was born, his mark was twice the size of any other baby in the village.
Renji froze.
His eyes narrowed.
A strange familiarity stirred inside him as he watched the child.
(Helpless. Exhausted. Broken... Is that what I looked like back then?)
He slowed his steps.
As the moonlight touched the boy's face, the stirring turned to a sting.
(His face… it reminded me of myself ten years ago. A failed rebellion. Loved ones lost. Friends who betrayed me… I looked just like him.)
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
The words slipped from Renji's mouth without intention.
Unplanned. Uninvited. They simply... came.
The child flinched.
He turned his head slightly, weary eyes meeting Renji's.
Bruises, swelling, and cuts on his face told the story of why he stood at the edge.
"What?"
A short, cold reply.
But his voice… echoed something from Renji's past.
Renji stepped closer, until he stood beside him.
He glanced down the cliff.
Darkness stretched into infinity.
Nothing visible. But something felt present down there.
"When you look from here… the world," he whispered,
"feels silent, vast, distant. People come up here to see the view, don't they?"
"You think you're funny?" the boy replied. "Why are you smiling like that?"
Renji blinked.
His smile was a mask. Most never saw through it.
But this child... had.
"Hm… interesting," he said. "Even with just one eye, you see sharply. Impressive. But... if you jump, those eyes will never see anything again."
"I don't care."
The words were short, but cutting.
They carried true despair.
Renji stared at the boy.
He still couldn't quite figure him out.
But the boy—he seemed to understand him at a glance.
"Then I'll make you an offer," Renji said.
"If life truly means nothing to you… jump.
If the darkness inside you is infinite… I won't stop you."
The wind interrupted.
A hush fell over them.
Only a distant night bird could be heard.
The child said nothing.
But… he didn't jump either.
"Just as I thought… you hesitate," Renji said, this time more serious.
"No!" the boy shouted. "I'm not hesitating!"
But Renji didn't look away.
His eyes read a different truth.
(He wants to live… there's a stubborn spark in his eyes. Buried deep, but still there.)
The boy clenched his left fist.
But it wouldn't close fully.
His palms were covered in cuts and bruises.
Some fresh. Some old and reopened.
Renji's gaze lingered on the wounds.
Marks formed only hours ago…
(How did he get here? How long has he been alone? How long has he stayed silent?)
"My life… is meaningless. I… am worthless."
Renji had heard those words before.
Years ago.
Another child.
Another cliff.
But the same darkness.
Slowly, he reached into his pocket.
A silver pouch—he always carried it with him.
Ten silver coins inside.
He'd never spent them.
Perhaps, unknowingly, he had saved them for this moment.
He placed the pouch in the boy's hand.
The boy grasped it instinctively.
Even that small weight felt heavy in his wounded hands.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
There was no surprise in his voice.
Only the tension of something unfamiliar.
His eyes were sharp—
Sharp enough to cut metal.
And in that moment, Renji noticed something.
In the boy's normal eye—
just for a moment, a spark shaped like a flame flickered.
One eye…
But it carried the fire of two.
Kazumi's words echoed in his mind:
"Some eyes are sharp by birth. Others… are honed by pain."
This boy… was the latter.
Renji spoke again, his voice gentle, without breaking eye contact:
"You said you're worthless."
"Worthless things aren't taken by anyone… but I'm taking you."
The boy narrowed his eyes.
Renji continued:
"So that means… you have worth now."