Before Kanesaki could form another question, a second set of footsteps echoed from the hall — slower, more familiar.
The woman at the door glanced over her shoulder, her grin widening.
'Perfect timing.'
The door slid open again.
Kanesaki's breath caught.
'—Yasuko?'
She stepped into the lantern light, and for a split second his mind refused to accept it. Her slick gold hair was pulled back loosely into a bun, no blood streaking her face this time. Fresh bandages wrapped her midsection beneath a clean undershirt, and there was a stiffness to the way she moved — but she was standing. Alive. Whole.
Her eyes softened the moment they met his.
'Hey,' she said quietly, crossing the room in a few quick steps. 'Easy, dude. Don't try to sit up.' she let out a breathy laugh.
She knelt beside the bed, one hand coming up to rest against his shoulder, warm and steady. The contact grounded him more than the lantern light ever could.
'You're safe,' Yasuko repeated gently, as if anchoring the words in place. 'I promise.'
His chest tightened as he attempted to speak. 'You— I thought—' His jaw clenched as memories threatened to surge back: fog, blood, the cave, leaving her behind in the fog. 'Were you attacked..?'
'I was,' she admitted with a faint, crooked smile. 'Yatzul ambushed me when you left. But I'm still here. Thanks to… help.' Her eyes flicked briefly toward the other woman, standing relaxed near the wall, arms folded.
The first woman waved lightly. 'Told you he'd wake up confused.'
Kanesaki swallowed, eyes never leaving Yasuko. 'I— I left you... I'm sorry, I—'
She squeezed his shoulder, firmer now. 'Hey. You don't need to explain anything. We got out. Both of us.'
His cracked thoughts slowed, just a little.
'…Where is this?' he asked, quieter now.
Yasuko exhaled softly. 'Not an outpost. Not a base. Somewhere off-grid.' She hesitated, then added, 'Somewhere they don't look for Chimeras — or soldiers.'
Yasuko helped him to his feet slowly, one careful step at a time. Kanesaki leaned heavily on her shoulder, boots scraping against stone as they moved down the narrow passage. The corridors felt grown rather than carved — rock walls curving inward and outward in uneven waves, the stone a muted, sandy orange, like desert cliffs worn smooth by centuries of wind.
Lanterns were set into the walls at intervals, their warm light chasing shadows across the rock. The air smelled dry, clean — faintly of dust and old smoke.
'Easy,' Yasuko murmured when he staggered, tightening her grip. "You've been out longer than you think."
'I feel like my head's been… rearranged,' Kanesaki muttered, blinking as the tunnel widened. His voice sounded distant to his own ears.
'Not wrong,' the woman said from behind them, boots crunching softly on grit.
They rounded a bend — and the passage opened into something that made Kanesaki stop dead.
It was a living room.
Not a makeshift camp. Not a bunker. A home — nested inside the cave like it had grown there. Rugs layered across the stone floor. Two couches pushed together around a low table cluttered with empty plates and cups. A small kitchen carved into the wall, shelves stacked with cookware and jars, a stove vented through a rough chimney. A TV sat against one wall, half-buried in cables and power cells. Cupboards. Doors leading deeper into the rock. A rack of coats and cloaks by the entrance — some military, some handmade, all worn.
It felt lived in.
Kanesaki stared, breath catching. 'What is this place?'
The woman moved past them, tossing a cloak onto the rack. 'Home,' she said simply. 'Or close enough.'
She turned, leaning against the counter, arms folded.
'Think of it as a temporary sanctuary,' she said lightly. 'You caused quite a mess back there. We figured it'd be smart to let things cool down.'
Kanesaki's eyes narrowed despite the exhaustion, something old and sharp stirring in his chest. 'We?'
Yasuko glanced at the woman, then back to him, lips parting like she'd been waiting for this. 'Oh… yeah. She's not the one who picked us up.'
That earned a small, proud tilt of the woman's chin.
'Name's later,' she said. 'For now, focus on breathing without reopening your stitches.'
Kanesaki let Yasuko guide him to the couch, sinking down with a quiet groan. The cushions were worn but soft — too normal. His eyes tracked the room again, details clicking into place. The way the woman moved. The ease. The faint, familiar weight in the air around her.
Then he saw it, faded out just enough to be barely visible — a tattoo on her neck.
A number.
'…You're a Chimera,' he said quietly.
The woman's lips curved — not quite a smile. 'Sharp.'
She tapped two fingers against her collarbone. The gesture was casual, but the confirmation was unmistakable.
'Rogue, according to the empire,' she continued. 'Same as you, now. Same as most of us here.'
Kanesaki leaned back, head resting against the couch, staring up at the rough stone ceiling. His body throbbed. His mind felt like fractured glass barely holding together.
Yasuko sat beside him, her hand finding his again — steady, grounding.
'…You stayed,' he murmured.
She smiled, just a little. 'Of course I did.'
The lantern flickered softly overhead, warm light dancing across the walls.
For the first time since the cave, the silence didn't feel like something waiting to kill him.
The woman pushed off the counter at last, the casual edge fading as she stepped closer, lanternlight catching the sharp planes of her face. She rolled her shoulders once, as if settling into a decision she'd been avoiding.
'Alright,' she said. 'I'm Asami.'
Kanesaki lifted his head slightly. 'Asami…'
She palmed her neck, covering the tattoo briefly.
'Former designation doesn't matter anymore,' she added, cutting herself off before the old words could surface. 'Out here, names are just names.'
Yasuko glanced between them, quiet, attentive.
Kanesaki exhaled slowly, fingers curling into the fabric of the couch. 'I can't stay,' he said. The words came out rough, but certain. 'I have to go back. Both of us do.'
Asami's brow creased immediately. 'No. You really don't.'
'They'll listen,' Kanesaki insisted, pushing himself upright despite the ache screaming through his body. 'They know me. They'll understand what happened.'
Asami stared at him for a long moment — then shook her head, a sharp, almost sad motion.
'Let me ask you something,' she said. 'When you were fighting that human — the one with the long blade — did you think he'd spare you?'
Kanesaki opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
The image surfaced unbidden: Nishihara's blank face. The odachi sliding free of its sheath. The radio call. Eliminate on sight.
'…No,' he admitted finally, voice barely above a whisper.
Asami nodded, as if she'd expected that answer. 'Did you think he'd stop long enough to hear your side?'
Silence again.
The truth settled like lead in his chest.
Rogue.
The word wasn't just a status. It was a sentence. Kill on sight. No trials. No explanations. No room for mistakes — or for friends.
Kanesaki's jaw tightened. His hands trembled, not with rage this time, but something colder. Emptier.
Asami softened then, stepping closer, her voice lowering. 'That's why this place exists. Me, and a few others — we built it because we didn't want to keep running forever. Didn't want to die just because someone else wrote a report.'
She gestured around them. 'We hide. We watch. We help where we can. And when Chimera fall through the cracks — like you — we bring them here.'
Yasuko's grip tightened on Kanesaki's hand.
'You're not alone,' Asami said firmly. 'Even if the world decides you are.'
Kanesaki stared at the stone floor, the weight of everything pressing down at once — orders, loyalty, blood, the echo of Nishihara's blade.
For the first time, the path back didn't look like home.
It looked like an execution.
Chapter 61 — end