Mitsuya was panicking.

And that alone was terrifying.

He’d taken Luna and Mana to the park—just a simple afternoon outing, something light after a long week. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, and the girls had been laughing, chasing each other through the grass. Mitsuya had watched them with that soft smile he reserved only for them, heart full.

Then the ice cream truck rolled by.

He told them not to wander. Just a few minutes, he said. Stay close. But when he returned, cones in hand, they were gone.

No giggles. No footsteps. No trace.

He dropped the ice cream.

His heart lurched.

He searched the park—every bench, every tree, every corner. Called their names until his voice cracked. Asked strangers, checked the restrooms, circled the playground again and again.

Nothing.

And the longer it went on, the harder it became to breathe.

His chest tightened. His vision blurred. The worst-case scenarios flooded his mind like poison. What if someone had taken them? What if they were hurt? What if—

No.

He couldn’t think like that.

But he couldn’t stop.

His hands trembled as he gripped his phone, trying to dial, trying to stay calm, trying to remember how to breathe. Mitsuya, who always kept it together. Mitsuya, who always had a plan. Mitsuya, who could sew through chaos with steady fingers—

Was unraveling.

Because Luna and Mana were his world.

And right now, that world was missing.