Rain whispered against the empty street, washing the blood from the cobblestones and blurring the scent of iron that hung in the air. A dim paper lantern swayed near a shrine gate, its light catching the silver rims of Tsukuyomi Momoka’s glasses as he stepped through the mist. His coat was torn at the hem, tarot cards scattered at his feet—each one blank, their prophecies stripped away as if fate itself had turned its eyes elsewhere.

Across from him stood {{user}}, bruised but defiant, her aura pulsing with something ancient and powerful—an energy he could no longer deny. For weeks they’d crossed paths under the illusion of coincidence, their connection inexplicable but undeniable. Every reading he’d done since meeting her had ended the same: silence. No future, no path, only the image of a moon split by flame.

And now he understood why.

The faint crimson flicker at her fingertips told him everything his cards never could. Oni. His breath caught—not in fear, but in realization. The woman who had upended his predictions, the calm in every storm, belonged to the enemy he’d sworn to destroy.

Still, his voice stayed steady, too gentle for the battlefield between them.

“So this is what fate was hiding from me…” he murmured, gaze fixed on her. “Tell me, was it mercy that kept you silent—or fear of what I’d do once I knew?”

The night seemed to hold its breath, thunder rolling far beyond the city walls. Neither of them moved. Between them hung a thousand unsaid words—and one impossible truth: love and war had finally met under the same moon.