The Ghost Of Yesterday's Past

***

September 5 3000 in the Eclipse Agency (25 years ago).

Keito Shinsei leaned back in his chair, removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. The fluorescent lights of the lab seemed extra harsh today, matching the pounding in his head.

"Another all-nighter," he muttered, glancing at his watch. 7 AM. He'd been here since yesterday evening, pushing his experiments on the young anomaly to the limit. The girl named Rin Asakura lay motionless on the exam table, exhausted from the latest trial. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, electrodes still attached to her temples.

Keito stood up, joints cracking. He may have succeeded in artificially boosting her to S-Rank, but it had come at a cost. The child was pale as a ghost, dark circles ringing her eyes. Her spiky dark hair that fans out dramatically from her head seemed faded, lusterless.

"Increase nutrients in the IV drip," Keito ordered his assistant. "And run full diagnostics. I want tissue regeneration accelerated."

Dr. Yamada nodded, adjusting the equipment. But Keito noticed his frown, the tension in his shoulders.

"You disapprove?," said Keito flatly.

Yamada met his gaze. "She's just a child. We're pushing too hard-"

"Progress demands sacrifice." Keito's tone was sharp, icy. "Or would you rather she remained a D-Rank nobody, bullied and ostracized?"

Yamada fell silent. Keito was aware of the assistant's past. He was mistreated for not measuring up to other scientists. Keito knew bringing up this topic would compel Yamada to comply with his wishes.

The lab door slid open and officer Hiroto strode in, flanked by soldiers. The entire staff snapped to attention.

"At ease," said Hiroto mildly. His calculating eyes scanned the room, settling on the girl. "So it's done? You've perfected the S-Rank enhancement?"

"Yes, sir." Keito allowed himself a thin smile. "Administering the serum in graduated doses proved most effective. However, it appears it only functions on this female. She must possess unique qualities to tolerate this solution.

"Excellent." Hiroto clasped Keito's shoulder. "You've made history, Doctor. This will cement the Agency's dominance for decades to come."

Keito swelled with pride. "Thank you, sir. Just doing my duty."

Later, in the hall, the scientists celebrated. Sake flowed freely, faces flushed with success.

"To Keito Shinsei," one of the scientist said, "The finest mind in the Agency!"

As Hideo Yamada slipped out of the hall, the weight of his frustration was palpable. He couldn't help but mutter to himself, "All those nights, all that work, and for what? To be Keito's shadow?" The hall buzzed with excitement, a stark contrast to the bitterness swelling within him. He paused, looking back over his shoulder, hoping for some last-minute recognition, but found none.

"Figures," he scoffed quietly, shaking his head as he pushed through the doors. The cool air outside hit him, a brief respite from his heated emotions. "Next time, I'll make sure they can't overlook me." With that determined whisper to himself, Hideo walked away, the sound of his footsteps mingling with the distant celebration he was no longer a part of.

As the cheers grew louder, Keito looked around at the gathering of scientists in the hall. With a humble yet proud tone, he addressed them, "I guess I've made it into the history books, huh?" The acknowledgment of his own role, amidst the roaring applause and shouts of "Congratulations, you deserve it!" resonated deeply, marking a moment of personal and professional triumph.

The next morning Keito found himself back in the lab early. Nursing a slight hangover, Keito reviewed the test results. To his surprise, the girl's vitals had stabilized overnight. Her regeneration was proceeding faster than anticipated.

Perhaps he could accelerate the next trial-

His musings were interrupted by the lab doors hissing open. Hiroto entered, soldiers dragging a child between them. Wild white hair fell over the boy's face, concealing his eyes. Manacle cuffs bound his wrists.

"Keito, meet your new test subject." Hiroto's smile was cold. " His name is Kaze Jūryoku. He is an S-Rank that we found."

Keito raised an eyebrow. "An S-Rank? Impressive."

"I assure you, he has...potential." Hiroto's eyes glinted. "I want you to unlock it. Make him the strongest asset the Agency has ever seen."

"Understood, sir." Keito was already mentally cataloguing the serums and trials required. "I will begin preparations immediately."

"See that you do." With that, Hiroto pivoted on his heel and departed.

Over the next weeks, Keito devoted himself fully to Kaze. The boy's innate abilities were formidable, though difficult to control. Keito tried serum after serum, each one inching Kaze closer to the highest level of S-Rank.

The boy resisted at first, stubborn and defiant. But the experiments broke him, bit by bit. Now he obeyed Keito's every command.

Suddenly, ringing pierced the silence, Keito couldn't help but feel a wave of annoyance. "Who could possibly be calling at this hour?" he thought, reaching into his pocket with a sense of irritation.

Pulling out his phone, his eyes caught the caller ID, and an immediate chill coursed through him. "This can't be good," he thought, a sense of foreboding enveloping him as he stared at the screen, the weight of the moment pressing down on him in the stillness of the lab.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Keito raised his phone. "Dr. Keito Shinsei," he said, his voice betraying none of his inner tumult.

"Keito, we have much to discuss," the voice on the other end seethed with a controlled danger, gripping Keito's attention like a vice.

"What is it that you require?" Keito inquired with caution.

After a moment of silence, the voice resumed, "The new specimen, his name is Kaze, isn't it? Have you met him? He's quite extraordinary. I would like his DNA for Project K."

Keito's pulse quickened; the command was clear. "Yes, I understand," he said tentatively, masking his apprehension.

A faint, ominous click pierced the silence on the phone, echoing the distinct sound of a lighter, perhaps the kind used to light a cigar. "And Keito," the voice added, its tone laced with an undercurrent of urgency. Keito, feeling the weight of the moment, responded, "Yes?"

The voice, now unmistakably tinged with stress and worry, pressed on. "I only have a few years left, Keito. This must work...this...," a pause filled with hesitancy, as if grappling with the gravity of what was left unsaid. "Never mind. Just, please, try to finish Project K." The words, heavy with a mix of desperation and hope, hung in the air, underscoring the critical nature of Keito's task.

As the click echoed in his ear, Keito found himself wrestling with what to say next. But before he could form a response, the mood on the other end of the line shifted dramatically. The voice, previously laden with stress and urgency, suddenly erupted into laughter. "Oh? I must have stressed you out, Keito, my old friend. Relax a bit, will you? You could have said anything, but you chose silence. I see."

Keito's eyes widened in realization, understanding why he always felt chills whenever this "man" called. This person was not normal; he was an enigma, devoid of understandable emotions and seemingly lacking any genuine feelings.

"Uh, oh yeah, sorry," Keito managed to stammer out, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone.

"In the end, Keito, you and I will see each other very soon. No matter what happens, remember this—everything I do, I do for Love." With those words, the call ended abruptly.

Keito stared at his phone, his grip tightening around it until his knuckles whitened. "You don't know what love is, Chairman Kurosawa Mizuki!" he whispered fiercely into the silence, his words a mix of defiance and revelation.

Keito hands were shaking as he returned to his work, driven by the knowledge that the stakes were now terrifyingly high and any misstep could have dire consequences.

When not working on Kaze, Keito secretly continue his side project using the DNA of Kaze. Buried in encrypted files, known as Project K. It would be his magnum opus. 

Keito stayed later each night, poring over the data. He waved off Yamada's concerned looks. Progress demanded long hours.

Dr. Hideo Yamada eyed the mysterious, heavily encrypted file on the computer screen with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. "This file you're working on so intently... what is it?" he said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Keito Shinsei glanced at the file, then back at Yamada. Speaking in measured tones, he said, " Yamada, believe me, it's better if you don't know."

Yamada scoffed, leaning forward. "For the benefit of the Agency, I should be in the loop. Whatever it is, I have a right to know—"

Before Yamada could finish, Keito interjected, "You want to help the Agency? Then trust me and focus on your current tasks. But," he sighed, "perhaps a small glimpse will quell your thirst for knowledge." With a few keystrokes, he brought up an obscure blueprint on the screen. "This is what I call Project K. It incorporates Kaze's DNA. The aim is to enhance it... to imbue it with his gravity manipulation ability, creating an unstoppable force."

Hiroto Nagasaki, having overheard the conversation, joined them. His voice carried the weight of his rank. "Unstoppable, you say? I'm interested. Perhaps Dr. Yamada could be of assistance to you with Project K while you work on Kaze."

Keito fixed his glasses, looking unmoved by the suggestion. "General Nagasaki, I believe it's best if I handle Project K alone. It requires... a certain delicacy. But rest assured, it will be done for the sake of the Agency."

Yamada gave Keito a side-eyed look, almost choking on his irritation. "Oh, whatever you want, Mr. Genius," he muttered under his breath. The sarcasm was palpable.

Keito simply nodded. "I'll manage it," he reassured Hiroto.

Hiroto's eyes narrowed as he straightened his uniform. "Very well," he acknowledged. "I have to report to Chairman Kurosawa on our progress. I expect results." Not waiting for a reply, he turned crisply on his heel and made for the exit.

Both men nodded as Hiroto departed, the tension between them lingering like static in the air.

Later that same night came a call. Keito's wife had gone into premature labor. Dropping everything, he raced to the hospital. Bursting into the delivery room, his heart clenched at the sight. the baby - his child - let out a thin, quavering cry.

Keito's heart swelled with an overwhelming rush of emotions as he beheld the sight before him. Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over in streams of pure joy and disbelief. "Is this truly my child?" he whispered to himself, a sense of awe enveloping his being. The doctor's voice broke through his reverie, a simple statement that carried the weight of the world, "A boy."

In that moment, Keito's legs gave way beneath him, and he found himself on the floor, a physical manifestation of his emotional vulnerability. His wife, witnessing this raw display of emotion, couldn't help but smile and let out a gentle laugh. "Get up, you're making a fool of yourself," she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection and amusement. Yet, for Keito, rising was a feat far beyond his immediate capability. The floodgates of his emotions had been opened, and he could not stem the tide of tears that flowed freely.

The significance of this moment transcended the joy of new fatherhood; it was a profound reflection on his past actions. The experiments he had conducted on children in his pursuit of scientific discovery suddenly cast a dark shadow over his soul.

Holding his son for the first time, Keito was confronted with the fragility of life. This tiny, innocent being cradled in his arms was a testament to the miracle of existence.

Keito cradled the fragile life. So small, so vulnerable. Gazing into the unfocused eyes, something in him shifted. His ruthless experiments, the lives he'd destroyed - could he continue on this path? What future did he want for his own son?

For a month and a half, the relentless experiments continued, and so did Keito's internal torment. Since the birth of his child, sleep had become a stranger, with the nights yielding little rest and the days blurring into a cycle of nausea and conscience-stricken work. His colleagues, including Dr. Hideo Yamada, had noticed the pallor in his skin, the way his hands would sometimes shake uncontrollably.

He brushed off their concerns with a weak smile, mumbling reassurances that he was fine before turning back to his lab notes, but his gaunt reflection in the mirrored surfaces told a different story. He began to dread each morning, often retching into the sterile porcelain of the laboratory bathroom before composing himself for another day's work.

During one grueling session, as Yamada and he analyzed the effects of the latest serums on Kaze, Keito felt a familiar, unwelcome churning in his stomach. Clutching the lab bench for support, Keito's body convulsed with a violent urge. He expelled his anguish in a fierce bout of vomiting, his senses overwhelmed. As he fell, a jumble of despair, the merging images of his child and Kaze spun a haunting tapestry of grief within him. 

"Are you okay, Dr. Shinsei?" Yamada asked with a note of rare sincerity mixed with his usual irritation, stepping back to avoid the mess.

Ignoring the echoes of his colleague's voice, Keito allowed darkness to envelop his senses. When he came to, he found himself on a narrow bed in a different lab, cool fluorescence replacing the harsh glare of the operating lights. As he lay there, the weight of what he'd been a part of pressed heavily on his chest, solidifying his next course of action.

Quietly, he made a decision. He would leave the Agency for good.

Keito's hands trembled as he stood near Hiroto's office. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, agonizing over what he was about to do. But when the first rays of dawn crept through his window, his resolve was firm. He would not continue to torture that poor child for Hiroto's ambitions.

"Come in," Hiroto said in his usual brisk tone as Keito entered. Keito stood rigidly, gathering his courage.

"I cannot in good conscience continue experimenting on the boy, Kaze," Keito began. "What we are doing is inhumane. I wish to terminate my contract, effective immediately."

Hiroto arched an eyebrow, his face otherwise impassive. "You seem to be forgetting yourself, Keito. You signed a binding contract with the Eclipse Agency to complete Project K. Your personal feelings are irrelevant."

"Please, Hiroto," Keito implored, wringing his hands. "He's just a child. I cannot be party to his suffering any longer."

"His suffering is necessary for the advancement of our research," Hiroto said coldly. "Or need I remind you that you already turned him into an anomaly. You owe it to him to finish what you started."

Keito's shoulders slumped in defeat. Hiroto was right - he had created this monster. If he refused to continue, Hiroto would simply find another unscrupulous scientist to replace him. At least this way, he could try to minimize the damage. Wordlessly, Keito turned and left the office, the weight of his guilt pressing heavily on his conscience.

Over the next few weeks, Keito worked alongside Dr. Yamada to complete the experiments on Kaze. With each procedure, each needle and scan, Keito tried to detach himself from the boy's silent anguish. But those striking gray eyes never left him, boring into him with accusation and betrayal. Keito now understood the true meaning of "If looks could kill, he'd be dead right now."

At last, the experiments ended. Kaze's gravity manipulation abilities were honed to deadly precision. He could now crush a man's bones or fling him through the air with a mere gesture. Like an animal, he paced within the confines of his cell, his power pulsing beneath his skin.

Keito informed Hiroto that Project K was complete. Before he could leave, Hiroto ordered him to turn over all his research to Dr. Yamada. With a heavy heart, Keito handed over only half the blueprints, keeping the most dangerous details to himself. This child had suffered enough by his hand. Keito disappeared from the Eclipse Agency, hoping never to return.

***

Present day, Keito found himself face to face with the adult Kaze. Those gray eyes still burned with hatred, now set in the hardened face of a man. With a mere flick of his finger, Kaze crushed the bones in both of Keito's legs. Keito screamed and begged for mercy as Kaze loomed over him.

"Now I understand why you enjoyed torturing children so much, old man," Kaze said, an icy smile twisting his lips. "The rush of power is intoxicating."

Kaze raised his hand, and Keito knew he was about to die. Suddenly, a small voice cried out.

"Please don't hurt my uncle!" Keito's nephew, Usagi, stood in front of Kaze, tears streaming down his round cheeks. Kaze hesitated, momentarily distracted.

"Run, Usagi!" Keito cried. But the boy stood firm.

"Let him go!" Usagi yelled, balling his tiny hands into fists. Kaze only Kept staring at Keito.

Then Usagi screamed, a piercing wail that shook the forest "I said STOP!". A massive tornado exploded into being, crashing into Kaze and sending him flying through the air. Keito stared in shock as Usagi floated in the air, his eyes glowing white as he commanded the winds.

Kaze used his gravity manipulation to land safely on the ground. But Keito seized the opportunity.

"We need to leave immediately!" Keito said, his tone conveying urgency despite the sharp pain from his broken legs. Supported carefully by his family, he hobbled awkwardly—their progress slow and fraught with risk—each step a collaboration as they fled into the concealing darkness of the night.

Kaze now faced a choice. Should he pursue Keito, or stop the child's raging tornado from destroying the forest? Cursing, he rushed to calm the child. But even his powerful Graviton Surge failed against the tornado's might.

In the heart of The Eclipse Agency's command center, Hiroto Nagasaki's stern expression grew tense as he parsed the incoming emergency brief. It detailed a destructive tornado, its signature chaos matching that of the renegade anomaly now under Kaze's wing. His eyes flickered with concern before he turned decisively towards his aide.

"I need Sora Yamamoto on this, accompanied by two B-rank Enforcers," he instructed, his voice carrying the weight of urgency. "Make sure they're equipped with the latest non-lethal weaponry."

Sora gave his customized Bureau uniform a quick once-over, making minor adjustments to the fit. He then flicked the hood of his cloak back into place, ensuring it fell just right over his shoulders. "We're heading out," he announced crisply, his voice betraying none of his thoughts.

"Understood, Master Sora," the twin sisters responded in sync, their voices clear and practiced as they stepped into the transport pod. A barely noticeable grin at the edge of Sora's mouth was the only sign of his readiness for the mission ahead.