My footsteps echoed through the empty house, the walls standing like silent witnesses to a tragedy. With care, almost with fear, I laid Selene on the bed. I smoothed her tangled hair across the pillow, my fingers brushing her cold cheeks. She looked as though she were merely asleep, but this stillness no longer concealed life.
I sank down onto the hard floor beside her. The wood was cold, seeping into my bones, but I hardly noticed. I wrapped her hand in mine and clung to it desperately, until my eyelids grew heavy and exhaustion dragged me into sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in the darkened room. I still held her hand, but it was warm now. Alive. I lifted my gaze, and there she was. Selene. Smiling. She wore her white dress, her hair fluttering in the sunlight, and all around us stretched an endless sea of blue and white flowers.
My breath caught. I whispered her name, though my voice broke as I said it. I ran to her, gathering her into my arms, and for a fleeting moment it felt as if the world had mended, that the nightmare had been nothing but a cruel dream. Her laughter trembled through my chest, and I clung to it like the last salvation.
—"Look, Kaizen…" she said, raising her arm northward, just as she always had. —"That way, my home lies there."
I followed the line of her hand and fell into silence. Before us lay the ocean, vast and shadowed, waves crashing against the shore as though they guarded some forbidden truth. Beyond it, past the horizon, was her home. I could not see it, but I did not need to. She had described it so often I felt I already knew it: a hidden world of flowering gardens and a colossal tree whose leaves shimmered like a rainbow. It pained me that my eyes could not grasp what my heart already knew, yet her voice and her gentle smile made it real.
—"I used to sit beneath it," she said softly, tugging my hand. "I would imagine every trouble fading if I just looked at the sky through its branches. That's where I first learned what freedom meant."
Her words pierced me with the weight of all we had never shared. —"Why didn't you show me this sooner, Selene? We could have been here… we could have lived here."
She leaned against me, her voice so warm and sorrowful it split me open. —"Because I wanted to bring you here only when it was over, when you no longer had to fight. I wanted this to be our place of peace."
I tightened my grip on her hand, swearing I would not let go. "Then come with me now. Let's stay here. Let's live. I promise you, Selene, I'll never let you go."
But her eyes filled with tears, and her body began to fade into the sunlight. —"I'm showing you now… so you'll never forget. Even if I'm gone, know that to the north there is a place that was mine, and will always be ours."
I reached for her, but only air passed through my hands. She slipped away like sand through my fingers. —"No! Selene, stay!" I cried, but she only smiled, gentle, tender, wounding me more than death ever could.
—"Promise me, Kaizen… live. Smile, even without me. Carry me as a light, not as a burden."
And then she was gone. The flowers faded, the tree lost its colors, and I fell to my knees in an empty field.
I woke with a start. The cold floor had numbed my bones, and Selene's hand lay lifeless once more, icy in mine. I squeezed her fingers, a scream rising in my throat.
Then, a heavy knock at the door. I rose unsteadily and opened it. Hikaru stood on the threshold, pale, his eyes red from sleeplessness. In his arms he carried a bouquet of white and blue flowers, the very same from my dream.
He held them out, his voice trembling. "I know she loved these flowers…"
I took the fragile stems, and they cut deeper than any blade. I looked into Hikaru's weary face, his bloodshot eyes, and then heard the question he whispered, as though treading on broken glass:
—"Kaizen… where do you want Selene to rest?"
My chest shook, my lip trembled, but I forced the words out. —"She always spoke of one place… She would point north and tell me her home was beyond the ocean. She loved to sit by the shore, to watch the waves and dream. That's where she belongs."
Hikaru nodded slowly, in silence and respect.
Together we lifted Selene's body, her head cradled in my arms, her shoulders borne by his. We walked through the hushed city, the empty streets heavy with the same grief we carried. No one approached, no one spoke. Only our footsteps rang out upon the stone.
At the edge of the city the meadow gave way to the boundless sea. The waves broke against the rocks with a sound calm yet grave, like the earth itself drawing breath. We laid Selene down gently, and I felt myself unravel.
Hikaru stood back, silent, as I did what I knew I must. My hands dug into the wet earth, the cold soil clinging to my skin as the tide surged and retreated. Each shovelful tore me apart, but it was the last act of love I could offer her.
As we worked, I remembered the way she always raised her hand northward, dreaming of her home. I felt her presence in the salt-laden breeze, in the fragrance of the flowers resting on her chest.
When the grave was ready, I knelt by her side, gazing at the ocean, and whispered through broken breath:
—"Here you will rest, Selene… here by your dream, by the sea, just as you wished. I will carry you within me always, even as the world forces me to go on without you."
Hikaru remained silent, a quiet strength at my side. Words had no meaning now. With each handful of earth covering her, something inside me tore apart, yet still a spark remained, a vow unspoken, that I would carry her light onward.
When the grave was closed, I looked once more to the ocean. Though I could never reach her home, this place was hers. And for me, it was the first step toward continuing to live, bearing her memory like a beacon against the dark ahead.
We lingered there in the heavy silence. The wind stirred gently, but no breeze could mend the wound within. Hikaru leaned on his knees, breathing slow, before daring to speak.
—"Kaizen… there is something I must tell you," he began, his voice trembling with hesitation. —"A forest on the edge of Drenna… it caught fire, suddenly. Right after your battle with the demon."
My fists clenched, fury and grief colliding with helplessness. I looked at Hikaru, my eyes wet with tears yet already burning with resolve.
—"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?" I demanded, my voice raw with anger and exhaustion.
—"It wasn't the right time," he admitted, heavy with guilt. —"Selene's loss had shattered you… I waited until you had calmed, at least a little, before I gave you the news."
I swallowed hard, forcing my breath steady. At last I said:
—"Then we go investigate. We must see what happened."
Hikaru shook his head slightly, weary eyes shadowed with unspoken truth. —"There is more. A boy was the first to enter the forest after the fire began. Perhaps he saw something, perhaps he knows how it started."
My heart pounded, not from fear, but from the knowledge that perhaps the demon still lingered, though Hikaru refused to name it. I searched his face for clues, but found none.
—"Then we find him," I said sharply. "Any lead may reveal what truly happened, and whether it was that demon."
Hikaru's gaze lifted to mine, loyalty and concern flickering in equal measure. We were no longer just two men walking toward a forest, we were seekers of truth, already marked by its price. I drew a steady breath and gave him my order:
—""Bring more Imperials. And another horse for me. We meet at my house, then ride to Drenna."
He nodded, weary but resolute.—" "Very well, Kaizen. I'll see it done."
I watched him go, his steps echoing like a promise that I would not face what came next alone. For a moment I lingered, staring at the ocean, gathering my scattered thoughts.
Soon he returned with several Imperials I did not know, and the extra horse I had asked for. Their faces were drawn, their breaths heavy, but their resolve clear. Without delay, we mounted and set out for Drenna.
The road was long and harsh. The sun rose slowly, the air thick with the scent of earth and damp leaves. Each hoofbeat rang on the narrow path, tension building with every mile.
At last we reached Drenna. The townspeople cried out as we entered:
—""Long live the Imperials! Long live the Imperials!"
Hikaru and the others ignored them, eyes fixed ahead. But my blood boiled. A storm of thoughts roared inside me:
What is wrong with these people? Why cheer in a town of ashes and illusions? We are not here to be exalted, we are here to seek the truth!
I crushed the anger down, fists clenched. Drawing a deep breath, I led the Imperials to a modest tavern where whispers and rumors seemed to gather. We entered, and the eyes of the townsfolk widened in fear and awe.
—""Tell me," I demanded. "How did the fire begin? What happened in the forest, and in this town?"
They faltered, exchanged nervous glances, but offered nothing certain. The air grew heavy with silence.
Then one, timid and trembling, spoke:
—""We don't know about the fire… but… an orphan boy was the first to enter the forest. His name is Renji. He lives at the town's edge, in the small hut by the riverbank."
The name struck me like a spark. I wasted no time. I turned to two Imperials.
—""Bring Renji to me. At once."
They obeyed and hurried out. I remained, waiting, thoughts racing at what this boy might reveal. He could hold the key to the truth. And nothing would keep me from it.
Minutes later, they returned with him. I studied him closely: eyes wide with fear and curiosity, scars upon his skin, armor hanging awkwardly on his frame—half soldier, half child. Yet something in my instincts told me he carried more than he appeared. Perhaps even the truth we sought.
!——The End of Kaizen's POV——!
—"Stop… Kaizen, stop," Renji said, his voice unsteady. "You're far too drunk… you're actually telling me about our first meeting!"
Kaizen blinked, horror dawning. Before him Renji stood calm, though his gaze was grave, and shame and anger flooded Kaizen all at once.
He leaned against the table, mind reeling, nerves raw.
—"Did I really tell him all this… just because I drank?!"
Renji's eyes widened as the weight of the story sank in. Every word, every detail of loss and grief, echoed in his mind, impossible to ignore.
—"I… I never knew someone could endure that much and still remain standing," he whispered. —"Even though I haven't lived it myself… just hearing it makes me feel it in my heart."
He paused, thinking of Airi—her fragility, the terror of losing her.
—"If… if something ever happened to Airi… I don't know what I'd do. She isn't even mine, but… I don't know if I could survive the pain."
Renji's gaze locked on Kaizen, respect and awe taking root. How could a man bear such suffering and still stand strong, still move forward through absolute loss?
Admiration mingled with fear: admiration for Kaizen's strength, fear for how fragile his own heart might be.
Around them, the other Imperials had slumped into drunken sleep, some sprawled on chairs, others on the floor. The tavern was quiet now, save for Kaizen's voice, Renji's, and the steady chorus of snores.
Renji turned back to him, eyes sincere.
—"Kaizen… you're the example I want to follow," he said quietly. "I respect every decision you make, even when I don't understand them. A man like you… doesn't exist anymore in this kingdom."
Kaizen looked at him, surprised that his story, his pain, could inspire someone who had never lived it. Renji's gaze held no fear, only admiration, and it pressed upon Kaizen a strange sense of responsibility.
—"Renji… you don't have to say that," Kaizen muttered, his voice rough. —"But… thank you."
Renji didn't falter. —"No, Kaizen. You need to know. There are those who see your truth and your strength. And I want to be at least half as brave as you."
The weight of everything he had endured bore down on Kaizen once more, but now he knew there were still those who could see through it, who could honor the truth within his scars.
He sat in silence, thoughts storming, until at last he murmured almost absently:
—"I think… the sea looks different when a boat sails upon it…"
His eyes closed slowly, and before he realized it, sleep claimed him there at the tavern table, his soul still burdened with grief.
Renji watched him for a long moment, shaken and awed by all that he had endured. Then, with a quiet sigh, he wrote a note, slipped it onto the table, and left for his home, carrying with him the image of a man who could suffer and still remain unbroken.