Kazou stood apart from them near the front steps of Wroc?aw University, his figure faint against the orange glow of streetlamps. His coat was damp at the shoulders, soot still streaked his cheek. He was silent, watching the last fire engine pull away, its siren muted in the distance.

  Kazou lingered at the edge of those shadows, his coat drawn close, watching the streams of students leave. His thoughts weighed heavily, smoke and fire still clinging to his senses. He could still see Natalie’s face—twisted in shock, screaming—as Casimir whispered that cursed name.

  He hadn't killed Casimir... He let him go... But he cared more for Natalie than killing Casimir in the moment...

  And then, from the side, a voice.

  “You’re… not from here, are you?”

  Kazou turned. A young man, slight and earnest-looking, stood at the edge of the steps, holding a backpack with one strap slung lazily over his shoulder. His expression carried a boyish curiosity, but there was also suspicion—the kind that comes from simply noticing what others overlook.

  Kazou straightened.

  “I suppose not.” His tone was even, cautious. “You’re a student here?”

  “Yes,” the boy said quickly. “Marcin. Marcin Wójcik. I… saw you near the fire earlier. With that girl. She is a good friend of my other friend. Are you—her professor from another school?”

  Kazou shook his head faintly.

  “No… not exactly. I’m a researcher.” He took a careful breath, then added with deliberate precision, “Philosophy, psychology. I came here because I’ve heard about one of your students.”

  Marcin blinked. “A student?”

  “Yes.” Kazou’s gaze hardened slightly. “Casimir Bielska.”

  The name made Marcin’s face light up in recognition—though not in the way Kazou had hoped. The boy smiled, almost warmly.

  “Casimir? Oh, sure. He’s… well, he’s brilliant. Everyone knows that. Always top marks, and not just in one subject either—history, psychology, even mathematics. He’s… different. You’ve heard of him? He was supposed to talk at this event, but I wasn't there to see but. The fire happened and-”

  Kazou hesitated. The urge to tell this boy the truth, that Casimir had nearly burned them all alive, rose hot in his chest. But instead, he held it back. He studied Marcin’s open expression, the innocence in his eyes, and swallowed the truth like poison.

  “I’ve heard,” Kazou said softly, “that he stands out.”

  Marcin gave a small laugh.

  “That’s one way to put it.” He studied Kazou more closely now, tilting his head. “But… I don’t think I caught your name.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The question hung heavy. Kazou’s throat tightened. His name was not something he gave freely anymore—not here, not in Poland. And yet, under Marcin’s simple gaze, the truth slipped out almost against his will.

  “…Kuroda,” he said finally.

  Marcin’s brow rose.

  “Kuroda?” He repeated it slowly, carefully. Then his eyes widened. “Wait… you don’t mean… You can’t be related to Dr. Yuichi Kuroda, can you?”

  Kazou froze. The sound of that name, his father’s name, one he had only ever read in scraps of old records, hit him like a blow to the chest. His lips parted, but no words came. For a moment, the sound of the city vanished; there was only the echo of Marcin’s voice repeating Yuichi Kuroda.

  “That name…” Kazou’s voice was hoarse. “You know it?”

  “Of course,” Marcin said quickly, almost apologetically. “We learned about him a little… in bio. A lecture last year, I think. They mentioned some of his… work. Though…” He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. “Not much detail. Only fragments.”

  Kazou’s eyes narrowed. “Fragments?”

  Marcin nodded. “He worked in Western Europe, at an institute. Something about… psychological experiments, I think, during the 40s-60s On—” He hesitated, lowering his voice. “—on clones.” He paused, frowning slightly. “Why? Are you really related?”

  Kazou didn’t answer. His hands had clenched unconsciously at his sides. He had no memory of his father. Not his voice, not his face. Only silence, absence. But here, in the mouth of a stranger, the ghost of Yuichi Kuroda was suddenly alive again.

  He forced his voice to stay steady.

  “Do you know if he’s alive?”

  Marcin shook his head.

  “No one really knows. The lecturer never said. Maybe he’s dead. Maybe he’s somewhere… hidden.”

  Kazou’s eyes searched Marcin’s face, as if the boy might somehow hold the answer.

  “And Casimir? Has he ever spoken of him?”

  “Yes, actually,” Marcin said with a small nod. “At lunch once. Tina was talking about what we learned—about Dr. YK—and Casimir seemed… very interested. Too interested, maybe.”

  Kazou felt his breath catch.

  Marcin opened his backpack then, rummaging for something.

  “Here. I almost forgot. Tina and I did a little project on him once. Not exactly required for class, but just something extra. We wanted extra credit, plus, she thought it was fascinating.”

  From the backpack, he pulled a folder, slightly bent at the corners, filled with photocopied documents, sketches, and handwritten notes. He handed it carefully to Kazou.

  Kazou opened it slowly. The pages revealed a name repeated again and again: Dr. Yuichi Kuroda. There were references to research, to institutes long since shuttered, to fragments of testimony from journals. And on one page, a single underlined word in red ink:

  Amsterdam.

  Kazou’s eyes widened as he scanned the notes. Amsterdam, Netherlands. An institute where Yuichi Kuroda had worked, where he had performed psychological experiments on clones.

  The air around him seemed to chill, though the night was warm. His father. Amsterdam. Experiments. And Casimir… Casimir knew. Casimir must have known that he was created from the blueprint of Yuichi Kuroda's idea.

  Kazou closed the folder slowly, his hand trembling slightly. His face remained composed, but in his eyes, something darker had stirred.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. “This… means more than you realize.”

  Marcin gave him a puzzled look, half-curious, half-concerned. After a few seconds, it turned into a smile and a nod.

  "If you find anything cool, come back here and let me know! Like if you find a survivor or something from the YK Serials!"

  Kazou nodded with a smile.

  "I will."

  Kazou exhaled, a thin whisper escaping him.

  “Amsterdam…”

  Author's Note — Cuori Rose

  End of Volume III

  - Cuori Rose

  "You, me, and the end..."