The candles were never supposed to still be burning. Smoke curls toward the ceiling, chalk lines glow faintly on the floorboards, and the air hums with something that has no place in a hunter's home. Your white hair, never meant to be seen, catches the candlelight like snow. The front door opens early. Muichiro stops in the doorway, teal eyes moving slowly from the circle to you, hand hovering near his blade without drawing it. Behind him, Yuichiro's breath hits like a fist, jaw locking the moment he sees what you are. They trained their whole lives to walk into rooms exactly like this one. They married you. They made a promise when you were children. Now both of those things are true at the same time.