The sun hung high above Shinokuni-01 as Brook and Crowley parted ways in the central square.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Crowley said, adjusting the groceries under his arm.
Brook nodded.
"If I'm awake."
Crowley laughed.
"You'd sleep through an Abomination attack."
"I doubt that."
"You've never tried."
Brook shook his head with a smile before turning down one of the quieter streets leading toward his apartment.
Unlike the busy market district, this part of the city was peaceful. Small brick homes lined the streets, each with flower pots outside their windows. Laundry swayed gently on clotheslines stretched between buildings while children kicked a worn leather ball around the road.
"Morning, Brook!"
An old man waved from his front porch.
"Morning, Mr. Ellis."
"Night shift again?"
Brook nodded.
"You work too hard."
"So everyone else can sleep."
Mr. Ellis smiled proudly.
"We appreciate it."
Brook gave a small wave before continuing on.
He never thought of himself as a hero.
He was just doing his job.
A few minutes later, Brook reached a narrow apartment building tucked between a tailor shop and a bookstore.
It wasn't much.
Three floors.
Old brick walls.
A roof that leaked whenever it rained.
But it was home.
Mrs. Agnes, the elderly landlady, was sweeping the front steps.
"There you are."
Brook smiled.
"Good morning."
"You missed breakfast."
"I know."
"You'll waste away if you keep skipping meals."
"I already ate."
She looked relieved.
"Mrs. Hana?"
Brook nodded.
"I knew it."
Mrs. Agnes laughed.
"That woman worries about you more than I do."
"I don't think that's possible."
She playfully swatted his arm with the broom.
"Go get some sleep."
"Yes, ma'am."
Brook climbed the wooden staircase to the third floor.
The hallway creaked beneath every step.
He unlocked the last door on the left.
Click.
The apartment was quiet.
Sunlight streamed through a single window overlooking the northern Wall.
His home was simple.
A small bed.
A wooden table covered with books.
A bookshelf filled with journals.
A kettle resting on a tiny stove.
On one wall hung a faded family photograph.
Brook walked over to it.
His fingers brushed against the frame.
His mother smiled brightly in the picture.
His father stood beside her with one hand resting on Brook's shoulder.
Brook couldn't remember the last time he'd heard their voices.
Sometimes he worried he was starting to forget.
"I'll find you," he whispered.
The room answered with silence.
He placed his satchel on the table.
Inside were three books borrowed from the public library.
History of the Great Experiment.
Engineering of the Great Walls.
Medicinal Plants of the Northern Forest.
The first two books had something in common.
Every edition told the exact same story.
Almost word for word.
Brook had noticed it years ago.
Different authors.
Different publishers.
The same sentences.
The same dates.
The same conclusions.
It didn't feel like history.
It felt...
Edited.
He opened one of the books and flipped through the pages.
Nothing.
No mention of Laboratory Nine.
No mention of the scientists who worked there.
No mention of his parents.
He sighed and closed it.
"They erased you."
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Brook smiled before opening the door.
"I knew it was you."
Standing outside was a young woman with shoulder-length black hair tied into a loose ponytail.
She wore a light blue dress beneath a gray jacket, and a canvas bag hung over one shoulder.
Her bright brown eyes narrowed playfully.
"You could at least pretend to be surprised."
"Sera, you knock the same way every time."
She smiled.
"I've been knocking like that since we were kids."
"I know."
"And you still figured it out."
Brook stepped aside.
"Come in."
Sera looked around the apartment.
"As organized as ever."
Brook looked at the books scattered across the table.
"I was about to clean."
"You've been about to clean for three weeks."
He laughed.
"You're probably right."
She placed a paper bag on the table.
"I brought lunch."
Brook looked at her.
"I already ate."
"I know."
"This is dinner."
"You planned ahead?"
"I know you."
Brook smiled.
"You always do."
Sera walked over to the family photograph.
She looked at it for a moment before speaking quietly.
"You still talk to them?"
"Sometimes."
"You think they hear you?"
Brook shrugged.
"I hope so."
Sera rested a hand on his shoulder.
"We'll find the truth someday."
Brook looked at her.
"You really believe that?"
"I do."
"Even after all these years?"
She smiled gently.
"Especially after all these years."
Brook nodded.
She had always believed in him.
Even when everyone else told him to let go.
After a few minutes of quiet conversation, Sera looked toward the window.
"I actually came to ask you something."
"What is it?"
"The Founding Festival starts tomorrow."
Brook blinked.
"I forgot."
"I figured."
"The whole city's decorating."
She folded her arms.
"And before you say no..."
"I'm saying no."
"You don't even know the question."
"I have a feeling."
She laughed.
"I want you to come with me."
Brook rubbed the back of his neck.
"Crowds aren't really my thing."
"I know."
"But they used to be."
He didn't answer.
Sera smiled.
"Just one evening."
"No patrol."
"No books."
"No staring at the Wall."
"Just friends."
Brook looked out the window.
The Wall stood in the distance, silent as always.
After a long pause, he finally smiled.
"...Alright."
Sera's face lit up.
"Really?"
"Really."
"You won't cancel?"
"I won't."
She pointed a finger at him.
"I'm holding you to that."
Brook laughed.
"I know you will."
As Sera left the apartment, neither of them noticed the same hooded figure standing across the street.
Hidden beneath the shade of an old oak tree.
Watching.
Waiting.
And when Brook closed his door, the stranger quietly slipped a small folded piece of paper into his mailbox before disappearing into the afternoon crowd.
Brook wouldn't discover it until later that evening.
And when he did...
Everything would begin to change.