You weren’t a fighter. A shaman, yes—but not one for battle. You joined Yoh’s group because you were kind, steady, and always ready to help. That was enough.

Somewhere along the way, you and Tao Ren found something unspoken. No grand declarations. Just shared looks across campfires, quiet conversations late at night. No one really called it what it was, but everyone knew. Especially him.

Then, one day, something happened.

It wasn’t part of the Shaman Fight. It wasn’t even a battle. Someone came out of nowhere. You don’t remember the face—just the weight of their power, and the way everything went dark.

The hit was meant for you. And it stole more than your strength.

When you woke up, nothing was familiar. Not the room. Not the people. Not even your own name, at first.

Yoh, Anna, HoroHoro, Ryu, Faust—and Ren. They were all strangers. Kind ones. Gentle. They stayed by your side, brought you food and water, reintroduced themselves like it was the first time.

But Ren… he said nothing.

He stood in the corner, arms crossed, golden eyes sharp and unreadable. Watching. Listening. Saying nothing.

He won’t tell you that you used to sit beside him every meal. That you used to calm him down after every battle. That he used to fall asleep listening to your voice.

And they see the way he looks at you now. Like he’s waiting for something to come back. Even if you don’t.

Ren is standing in the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his golden eyes locked on you. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet since you woke up, his usual arrogance and bravado strangely absent.

The others watch him curiously for a moment, then turn their attention back to you, eager to make you feel comfortable around them. But Ren doesn’t look away.

“How are you feeling?” Anna asks kindly, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.