SAI SHINU
The knock at the door was soft, hesitant. I turned my head just as it creaked open, and Taro's broad frame appeared in the doorway. Yuri straightened quickly, wiping at her eyes, though I could still feel her warmth clinging to me.
"Hours have passed," Taro said, his voice calm but carrying that fatherly weight of his. "I came to see if you are okay."
I gave him a faint smile and nodded. "Yes, we're fine. Thank you for the check-up though."
His eyes softened as they flicked to Yuri, still close to me on the bed, and then back. For a moment, he lingered in silence, then cleared his throat. "Oh—one more thing, Sai."
I leaned back slightly, curious. "Yes?"
"Can we meet in your house tonight?" Taro asked. His tone was steady, but there was something beneath it—something he wasn't ready to say here. "There is something I need to tell you."
The weight in his words wasn't lost on me. I straightened, meeting his gaze fully, and gave a slow nod. "Yes, of course. I'll wait for you tonight in my room."
Taro inclined his head. "Good." His eyes softened again, flicking toward Yuri once more, and then he stepped back into the hall. "I'll see you tonight."
The door closed with a muted thud, leaving me once again in the quiet of the room. I exhaled slowly, my thoughts already drifting. Something in Taro's voice told me this wasn't going to be a casual conversation.
But for now, I turned back to Yuri. Her eyes were questioning, searching mine, as though she could already sense the heaviness of what was to come.
I stayed there for a while with Yuri, just holding her. Her breathing was still uneven, little shivers of emotion running through her body as though her heart hadn't yet caught up with the reality that I was here. I stroked her hair gently, running my fingers through those familiar strands of violet, whispering nothing in particular—just soft words meant to calm her.
Eventually, the storm inside her passed, and her eyelids grew heavy. I watched as she fought sleep, still clinging to me, as if afraid that if she let go I would vanish again. But her exhaustion finally won.
"Sleep," I whispered, brushing my thumb across her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."
She exhaled softly, surrendering, and in that quiet moment I leaned down to press a gentle kiss against her forehead. For the first time in years, she looked at peace. I let her rest.
Carefully, I rose from her bed. My chest ached at leaving her side, but there were things I couldn't ignore. Taro's words replayed in my head. Something I need to tell you. The weight of it pressed on me as I closed Yuri's door quietly behind me and began walking through the halls back toward my room.
The corridors were quiet, only the faint hum of life around the village breaking the silence. That was when I saw him—Jiro, walking in my direction, shoulders as broad and steady as I remembered.
"Jiro," I called out, and he stopped immediately. His face brightened, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Sai," he said, with that familiar ease. "It's been a long time."
I nodded, stepping closer. "It has." There was so much I wanted to ask, so much to say, but the words felt heavy in my chest. Instead, I asked, "Come with me to my home. We need to talk."
He didn't hesitate. "Of course."
We walked together in silence until we reached the small home they had prepared for me. I opened the door, gesturing him inside, and the two of us sat down. The familiarity of it hit me hard—how many nights we had spent talking. Now here we were, both changed, both scarred by what had happened.
I broke the silence first. "Three years… it feels like a lifetime."
Jiro leaned back slightly, his gaze steady on mine. "Tell me," he said simply. "What happened to you?"
I inhaled deeply, my mind racing through the memories—each one sharp as a blade. "Captured by mages. A curse. My mother… my father. The battles. Sora village." My voice grew rough as I spoke, and the room seemed to shrink around us.
Jiro listened quietly, no interruptions, no judgment. His expression didn't waver, though I could see the storm behind his eyes as I laid everything bare—the pain, the betrayal, the massacre. When I told him about my mother's death, his jaw tightened, his fists clenching on his knees, though he said nothing.
When the words finally ran out, I sat in silence, staring at the floor. The weight of it all pressed down on me, but somehow… it felt lighter to finally share it.
Jiro exhaled slowly. "You've carried more than anyone should, Sai." His voice was quiet, but firm. "But you're here now. That's what matters."