POV: Yuuna Mizushino
Place: Forest of Withered Stars, Mizushino Cottage
Date: 22 Years Before the Fall
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The wind howled like a grieving spirit.
It rattled the shutters of the small wooden cottage, whispered through the cracks in the walls, and clawed at the corners of the roof like unseen hands. Outside, ancient trees swayed and groaned as if mourning something yet to come. The stars had vanished behind a blanket of thick black clouds. The moon—once gentle—hung in the sky dyed red, like it too had been wounded by fate.
Inside the cottage, Yuuna Mizushino lay on the edge of life and death.
Her body trembled with pain. Sweat clung to her skin. Her breath came in gasps, each one sharp, raw, and desperate. Her nails tore at the sheets beneath her as firelight danced on the walls, casting long shadows that wavered like spirits in mourning.
It was time.
She had screamed before. In pain. In fear.
But never like this.
Not with her whole soul.
At her side knelt the Crimson Stranger—the man with the quiet gaze and haunting presence. His short crimson hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. His golden eyes, usually calm and distant, were now stormed with something unmistakably human.
Worry.
"You'll be fine," he said, voice low.
But Yuuna heard the tremble in it.
"I'm not afraid," she whispered, teeth clenched. "Just… stay with me."
He nodded. "Always."
Time blurred.
Hours bled together. The pain grew sharper, heavier, crashing into her like waves breaking against stone.
Outside, the sky darkened further. Thunder growled. Lightning flashed—black, not white—and the stars remained hidden, as if afraid to witness what was to come.
And then—
A cry.
Sharp. Clear. Pure.
The wind outside stilled.
The storm faded.
The stars returned to the heavens as though summoned.
And in her arms… lay her son.
Yuuna stared at the newborn child with wide, disbelieving eyes. His tiny chest rose and fell gently. Tufts of black hair crowned his head—so unlike her golden locks, or the Crimson Stranger's red. His skin was soft and pale, unmarred by the struggle of birth. And when his eyes opened—
Blue. Deep, radiant blue.
Clearer than the sky.
And when his small hand curled around her finger…
Yuuna wept.
"…Kai," she whispered. "Your name is Kai."
The Crimson Stranger stood silent beside her. His gaze locked onto the infant—not with surprise, but something far more haunting. Recognition.
He stared as if seeing a memory made flesh.
He didn't smile. Didn't speak.
Just… watched.
Yuuna turned her gaze to him. For a moment, she almost reached out, wanting to say something—anything—to break the silence.
But she stopped.
Because in the flickering light of the hearth… his shadow didn't match his body.
It moved on its own.
It reached for the cradle. It coiled along the floor like smoke, its edges whispering with voices she could not hear.
A chill crawled up her spine.
"…Who are you really?" she asked softly.
The Crimson Stranger didn't answer at first.
His eyes never left Kai.
"I wasn't meant to exist in this world," he said at last. "But he… was."
Yuuna held Kai closer. Her heart raced.
"I was never supposed to love," the Crimson Stranger continued, voice tinged with a sorrow older than time. "Nor have a child. But fate is cruel… even for death."
"…Death?" she breathed.
Finally, he looked at her.
And in his eyes—golden, deep, and hollow—she saw something ancient.
Something terrifying.
And something heartbreakingly lonely.
"I am Thanatos," he said.
"God of Death."
The room went still.
Yuuna's lips parted. Her thoughts scattered like ash in the wind. Her instincts screamed to run—but her body remained still, her arms wrapped tightly around her son.
She looked from Thanatos… to Kai.
To the tiny miracle born into a storm of silence.
Her son.
And the child of Death.
Her breath trembled.
But she did not scream. She did not flee.
Instead, she smiled.
"Then he must be a miracle," she said.
Thanatos blinked. Slowly.
And for the first time—
He smiled too.
It was small. Subtle. Barely there.
But it was real.
—
Days passed in quiet wonder.
Kai was unlike any newborn Yuuna had ever heard of. He hardly cried. He listened when she spoke, his head tilting curiously as if already understanding. His presence was calm, like the stillness after a storm.
And through it all, the Crimson Stranger—Thanatos—watched.
He never touched Kai. Never held him. But he was always near. Always watching.
Yuuna noticed it in the little things.
How the air shifted when Thanatos entered the room. How shadows bent toward him. How the fire dimmed when he was lost in thought.
"You never hold him," she said one evening, cradling Kai in her arms as the child slept.
"I don't deserve to," he replied.
"That's not your choice," she whispered. "It's his."
Thanatos said nothing. His gaze drifted toward the window, to the night beyond.
Outside, the wind had stopped howling.
—
Yuuna's days became filled with soft lullabies, warm fires, and stargazing through the cracks in the roof. But always, in the corners of her mind, was the truth:
She had given birth to the child of a god.
A god who had broken rules to be here.
A god who watched the world not with wonder, but with mourning.
One night, she found Thanatos kneeling beside a moss-covered stone deep in the forest behind the cottage. She had followed him quietly, Kai bundled against her chest.
The god traced his fingers over the old runes carved into the stone.
"I promised never to return to the realm of mortals," he murmured. "I swore it to the Primordials. After the last war… I chose silence."
Yuuna remained quiet.
"I should have never interfered. I should've let time carry you away."
"Why didn't you?"
He looked up.
And in that moment, the god she knew as the Crimson Stranger looked less like death, and more like a man who had been broken by eternity.
"Because you smiled at me," he whispered. "No one ever had."
Yuuna's breath hitched.
The silence between them stretched, filled only by the distant hoot of an owl and the soft heartbeat of the child sleeping against her.
"I don't regret meeting you," she said.
He nodded slowly. "Even if it means the world may fall?"
She looked down at Kai.
And smiled.
"Especially then."
—
It was on the twentieth night after Kai's birth that something changed.
Kai began to cry.
Not softly. Not briefly.
But loudly. Fearfully.
Yuuna rushed to him, but no matter how she held or rocked him, his sobs wouldn't stop.
Thanatos stood frozen by the door.
"Something's wrong," Yuuna said.
Then—without thinking—Thanatos stepped forward.
He reached into the cradle.
And for the first time…
He held his son.
The crying stopped instantly.
Kai's tiny hand touched Thanatos' face. His eyes opened—blue meeting gold.
And the god who had never wept…
Let a single tear fall.
Yuuna watched silently.
The room was filled not with silence, but peace.
The God of Death… holding the life he helped create.
For the first time since the stars vanished, Yuuna didn't feel afraid of what was coming.
She felt… ready.
Because no matter what fate awaited them—
Kai was here.
And he was theirs.
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To be continued
[End of Chapter 2: The God's Child]