The first thing Yuki felt was the smell of antiseptic. Then, the weight.
His eyes flickered open, wincing at the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital wing. His body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder and then stitched back together with heavy-duty wire. Memories of the warehouse—the blood, the blue water, Giyu's screaming—flashed through his mind in a dizzying blur.
I survived, he thought, exhaling a ragged breath.
"ONII-CHAN!"
Before Yuki could even register the blur of white and blue, the bed groaned under a sudden weight. Yukari, the merciless "Samurai of the Docks" who had just days ago de-handed her adoptive father, launched herself onto the hospital bed. She wrapped her arms around Yuki's neck in a vice-like hug, burying her face in his chest.
"Gack—Yukari! Stop! Ribs... breaking!" Yuki wheezed, his face turning a light shade of blue.
"Two more hours, please," she muffled into his hospital gown, tightening her grip.
To the rest of the world, Yukari was a glacier—cold, sharp, and capable of sinking anything in her path. But to Yuki, she was a relentless limpet. She had called him Onii-chan since they were toddlers, and woe betide anyone who tried to correct her on the biological technicality of being cousins. She would genuinely draw her sword on anyone who dared suggest they weren't siblings.
The door creaked open again. Derek, Mika, and Seri walked in, stopping dead at the sight of the legendary Kinatarou prodigy acting like a clingy housecat.
"Derek! Mika! Help!" Yuki gasped, reaching a desperate hand out toward them.
Derek took half a step forward, but Yukari's head snapped around. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a gaze so sharp it practically drew blood.
"If you touch him, you're dead," she said, her voice dropping an octave into a flat, murderous monotone.
Derek and Mika froze mid-step, their hands flying up in a universal sign of surrender. "Message received," Derek muttered, sweat beading on his forehead. "We're staying right here. In this safe, non-deadly zone."
Yuki sighed, realizing his fate was sealed. His eyes moved past the terrified Derek to Seri. She looked tired, her movements a bit stiff—likely the lingering effects of the drug—but she was alive.
"Seri," Yuki said, his voice softening. "Thank you. For everything. You protected me when I couldn't even stand. I wouldn't be here without you."
Seri's eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up her neck. She looked away, but a small, genuine smile touched her lips.
Yuki then looked at Derek and Mika, bowing his head as much as Yukari's grip allowed. "You guys too. Coming back for us when you didn't have to... I'm in your debt."
Yukari's head popped up, her cheeks puffed out in a massive pout. She looked between Yuki and his friends, her grip tightening once more.
"Hey! I did most of the work!" she complained, shaking him slightly. "I saved the Princess, I beat the bad guy, and I did it all in high heels! I deserve a reward."
Yuki groaned. "What reward, Yukari?"
"One hour of cuddling. No, two!" she declared, leaning back in for the hug. "And don't you dare bow to them again! It makes me look like the mean one!"
"No."
The comedy of the Kinatarou family was loud and chaotic.
"Unhand me! You unrefined peasants! I'll have your heads for this!" Yukari's screams echoed down the sterilized hospital corridor. Derek and Mika each had an arm, literally dragging the kicking, white-clad girl toward the exit.
"Sorry, Yuki! We'll keep her busy with the vending machines!" Derek yelled over his shoulder before the door slammed shut.
Suddenly, the room was silent.
The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, golden stripes across the linoleum floor. Yuki leaned back against his pillows, the silence ringing in his ears. Beside him, Seri stood, her hand resting on the edge of his bed. She opened her mouth to speak—to say something about the warehouse, or perhaps about the look in his eyes when he'd thanked her—but the door creaked open again.
Seri's expression shifted to annoyance, ready to tell whoever it was to leave, but the words died in her throat.
Standing in the doorway was a tiny, fragile figure. Luna.
She looked like a porcelain doll that had been broken and glued back together. White bandages were wrapped around her small arms and neck, peeking out from under a clean hospital gown. She stood there shyly, her large eyes trembling as they locked onto Yuki.
A second later, the dams broke.
Luna didn't run; she stumbled forward in a desperate rush. She collided with the side of the bed, burying her face into Yuki's side and sobbing uncontrollably.
Yuki didn't care about his cracked ribs or his torn muscles. He reached down, scooping the little girl up and pulling her onto the bed with him. He held her tight, his chin resting on her head, breathing in the scent of hospital soap and the faint, lingering smell of the pine.
Seri watched them, her heart aching. She reached out, her fingers gently stroking Luna's hair to help soothe the tremors wracking the girl's body.
Then, the world seemed to stop.
"Thank you... Yuki."
The voice was tiny—small and raspy, like dry leaves skittering on pavement—but it hit Yuki like a physical blow. His breath hitched. He pulled back just enough to look at her face.
Luna's eyes were red and swimming with tears, but for the first time, the "hollow" look was gone. She was really there. She was speaking.
"Can we go home to Hana now?" she whispered, her tiny hands clutching his shirt as if he might vanish if she let go. "I want to go home."
The hospital room was quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft hum of the air conditioner—until the television mounted on the wall flickered to life.
A news anchor's voice, tight with professional shock, cut through the room. "Breaking news from Crimson Hawks Headquarters. The crackdown on the Crimson Hawks Club has reached a violent conclusion."
Yuki and Seri both turned toward the screen. The footage was shaky, showing the Hawks elite HQ—or what was left of it. The entrance was shattered, not by explosives, but by what looked like a singular, massive physical force.
"Satoshi Kinatarou, Captain of the First Club, was ordered to lead the arrest of the Crimson Hawks," the reporter continued. "However, sources confirm that no members were taken into custody. Satoshi-sama reported that the resistance was 'too absolute' to permit survivors. In under ten minutes, the entire Crimson Hawks Club was effectively... erased."
The screen showed a brief image of Satoshi. He was walking away from the carnage, his coat draped over his shoulders, looking completely bored. There wasn't a drop of blood on him.
Seri's breath hitched. "He killed them all? One man... destroyed an entire Vanguard Club because they resisted?"
Yuki stared at the screen, his expression unreadable. He knew his brother. Satoshi didn't kill because he had to; he killed because it was the most efficient way to close a file.
The heavy atmosphere was broken by the door swinging open. Hana rushed in, her face a mask of worry that instantly melted into relief.
"Hana!" Luna screamed. The little girl launched herself off Yuki's bed like a rocket, wrapping her arms and legs around Hana in a literal koala-grip.
"Oh, my sweet girl," Hana whispered, holding her tight. She walked toward the bed, dropping a massive basket of fresh fruit on Yuki's lap with a thud. "And you! Yuki! I should hit you for scaring me like this, but you're already covered in bandages!"
Hana didn't wait for an answer. She began peeling an apple with lightning speed, launching into a stern lecture about nutrition, proper rest, and why "teen life" shouldn't involve fighting entire mercenary groups.
Derek, Mika, and Yukari were still outside (likely fighting over the vending machines), leaving just the four of them. Seri sat in the corner chair, her hands folded in her lap. She was silent, looking at the fruit basket but not reaching for anything. She still felt the "coldness" of the drug withdrawal, and the news about Satoshi had her on edge.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over her.
Yuki had leaned over the side of the bed, his arm extended. In his fingers, he held a small, perfectly sliced piece of apple.
Seri blinked, her heart skipping a beat. "Yuki?"
Yuki flashed that brilliant, genuine smile—the one that made him look nothing like the "Zero" of the Academy.
"You asked me to feed you before, remember?" Yuki teased, his eyes sparkling. "Come on. Say 'Aah.'"
Seri's entire face turned a vivid shade of crimson. Her brain short-circuited. The "Cold Princess" of the Kyorin family was reduced to a stuttering mess.
"I... I can feed myself, you idiot," she muttered, but she didn't move away.
"Aah," Yuki insisted, moving the apple closer.
Slowly, Seri leaned forward and took the bite. Her eyes widened. "It... it tastes good."
"Of course it does," Yuki laughed, already reaching for another slice. "Hana only picks the best."
Hana stopped her lecture, watching the scene with a mischievous grin. "Oh? Look at that, Luna. It seems Seri-chan's face is even redder than the apple. I didn't know hospital food was so romantic!"
"Hana-san!" Seri squeaked, her face practically steaming as Yuki leaned in to feed her again.