The walk back to the cave was too quiet. Not the comfortable kind, either — the kind where no one wants to admit how close things came to going bad. Even Shyara kept her mouth shut, which was unsettling in its own right.
We'd been pushed before. I'd been pushed before. But us? Together? Not like this.
I glanced at the girls. Blood-streaked hair clung to their faces, some of it theirs, some not. Bruises bloomed purple under the grime. Cuts crisscrossed skin I'd rather never see marred. My chest tightened. If I were stronger, they wouldn't have to look like this. But I wasn't. Not yet.
My gaze drifted to the Silverback lumbering along behind us, every breath a ragged rasp. Its thoughts were muffled, but the anger and grief under the surface pressed against me like heat from a furnace.
Even monsters have feelings.
Harsh. Shyara's voice brushed my mind, not accusing, just… wounded.
Not what I meant.
She didn't answer, but the bond made it impossible to hide from each other, even in silence.
By the time we reached the cave, everyone split off without a word. They deserved their own space to wash off the blood and stink of battle. I wanted the same, but there were things to do first.
I took the Silverback to the monster chamber, casting a trickle of healing over its battered frame. Not enough to fix much, but enough to keep it standing. I made the rounds, checking the others. Newborns were curled together, tiny chests rising and falling. Even Hexara only cracked an eye before going back to sleep.
Good. No damage from my absence. A small mercy after my rookie mistake of leaving no one behind to guard them.
Dammit, Kai. You keep acting like you've got plot armor. You don't.
If today proved anything, it's that we're not invincible. Not even close.
By the time I left the chamber, every step felt like a nail in my ribs. My knees buckled halfway to my room, breath tearing out in ragged bursts. I caught myself against the wall, teeth grit, casting a low heal just to keep moving.
The cot in my room might as well have been a black hole; I dropped onto it like gravity had doubled. My side screamed. My ribs felt like a live wire every time I inhaled. I needed to clean up, patch my wounds before infection set in — if this world even had a word for antibiotics. My knowledge of medicine could be summed up as "don't die." Would've been nice if the gods gave me a survival skill instead of Monster Fucker EX.
"Chosen my ass," I muttered, rolling onto my back.
"Kai… are you… okay?"
I didn't have to look to know the voice. Yuki stood in the doorway, hair loose, her pale skin catching the faint glow of the torches.
"Peachy," I said, forcing a smile that probably looked worse than I felt.
"You don't look it," she replied, stepping closer. She'd shed her battle clothes, but hadn't bathed yet — the faint smell of frost and iron clung to her.
"Looks can be deceiving."
Her fingers brushed my side, cool as fresh-fallen snow, and pain shot through me so sharply I saw white. I flinched. She didn't pull back.
"Not tonight, it would seem," she murmured, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Come. Let's get you cleaned up."
"I can do that—"
"I said come." Her tone cut through the air like her blade.
Mana burned in my muscles as I forced myself upright. She took my hand — cool, steady — and led me to her quarters. The air dropped ten degrees as we stepped in, but for once, the cold dulled more pain than it caused.
At the back of the room, steam curled from a small pool of water. The air was thick with the scent of mineral heat, a faint hiss rising from the surface. It wasn't large — maybe enough for two if they didn't mind being close.
Yuki dropped her gown in one smooth motion. No hesitation. No shyness. Just Yuki, meeting my eyes as a faint blush touched her cheeks.
"Strip," she said, voice low but firm.
It was so unlike her I froze. My mind lagged behind my body, caught between the ache in my ribs, the heat under my skin, and the memory that I'd promised her this night.
I began to undress. Her gaze lingered on my form.
"Uh… you're kinda staring." I said, pulling my shirt over my head.
"I'm assessing." She stepped closer. "Which I cannot do with all this clothing in the way." Her fingers brushed my arm as she helped tug the shirt free.
I gave a low chuckle.
"What?" she asked, unbuttoning my pants.
"Nah, it's just… you're different tonight. And the other night too."
She turned away, the blush creeping up to her ears.
"Forget that night. I wasn't myself. I was…" She trailed off.
"Honest," I said.
"I'm always honest." The ice was back in her tone.
"You always speak the truth, sure. But you're not always honest." My pants hit the floor.
She took me in, unashamed.
"See? That's honest," I teased.
"Guh!? No! I'm not staring, I'm—" Her voice faltered, her gaze slipping lower.
"My eyes are up here."
"Yeah. Eyes," she murmured, still staring.
"Uh… Yuki?"
"Even I can feel embarrassment, you know?" I said, covering myself with my hands.
"Oh!? Right. Right!" she said, more flustered than I'd ever seen her. The energy was almost… cute. "I wasn't just, uh… assessing?"
"Assessing?"
"Yes! You have so many wounds. And the battle today was so intense. I just needed to make sure. I'm supposed to be your shield after all. It's my duty to prevent these things." Her eyes lingered on the scar over my chest. "To prevent all of it."
"This wasn't your fault," I said, resting my hand over hers. "It wasn't her fault either."
"…I know. But that doesn't mean I accept it."
"Fair."
The air shifted. The teasing lingered, but something deeper hummed under it — the weight of shared scars, spoken and unspoken.
"Take me back," I said before I could stop myself.
Her head tilted. "To what?"
"Home."
Her voice softened, curiosity slipping past her usual composure. "Home? You mean… the other world?"
"Yeah."
I nodded toward the steaming pool. "Uh… should we get in? As much as I'm enjoying the view, I'm worried I'll catch cold just standing here."
She gave a small, rare smile. "Ah. Right. Sure. Go ahead."
Even cut and bruised, with battle still clinging to her like frost, she was radiant.