After the short, lingering moments of shared laughter and quiet contentment under the fading evening light, the group finally dispersed. One by one, they drifted to their rooms, the estate halls falling into a peaceful hush broken only by the distant roar of the waterfall. Tired smiles and soft goodnights echoed faintly as doors slid shut.
Everyone went to bed in their own rooms.
Everyone except Rein.
He lingered in the hallway for a moment, violet eyes thoughtful. Something about Wilson's casual "errand" nagged at him — too vague, too timed after their perfect rest day. Curiosity, mixed with a quiet unease, pulled him toward Azrael's quarters.
The sliding door to the master's room was ajar, a soft lantern glow spilling into the hall.
Rein hesitated, then knocked lightly. "Um… excuse me, Master. May I come in?"
Azrael's voice came steady and calm from within. "Of course, my child."
Rein stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind him. The room was simple — tatami mats, a low desk with scrolls, the faint scent of incense. Azrael sat cross-legged, silver eyes reflecting the lantern light as he regarded Rein with his usual unreadable expression.
"I hope you're all prepared for tomorrow's hell," Azrael said, a faint curve at the corner of his mouth — almost amusement.
Rein chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… haha. I think so."
Azrael tilted his head slightly. "Why have you come here, my child?"
Rein shifted, glancing down at his gloved hands before meeting Azrael's gaze. "Um… to ask about Principal Wilson. Where is he? His 'errand' seemed… sudden."
Azrael's expression remained calm, but a knowing glint flickered in his eyes. "He'll arrive by tomorrow morning. And lucky for all of you, I have to give you another break tomorrow."
Rein blinked, surprise cutting through his unease. "Oh… why is that?"
Azrael allowed a small, rare smile. "You'll know when you see. Go to sleep, my child. Have some rest." His gaze dropped to Rein's hands. "And you can remove your gloves. The scars will have healed by now."
Rein looked down, flexing his fingers beneath the fabric. A quiet warmth spread in his chest — trust, perhaps, or relief. "Yes, Master. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Azrael replied. "Sleep well."
Rein bowed slightly and slid the door shut behind him, the soft click echoing in the empty hall.
As he walked back to his room, thoughts swirled in his mind.
Hmm… I wonder what's happening tomorrow…
Another break? After Wilson's mysterious trip? It didn't add up, but Azrael's calm certainty eased the worry a little.
Whatever it was, it felt… important.
Rein removed his gloves as he entered his room, glancing at his hands in the moonlight. The scars were faint now — pale lines, reminders, but no longer raw.
He smiled faintly, slipping into bed.
Tomorrow would bring answers.
And for the first time in a while, he looked forward to it.
The morning light slipped in bright and clear through the shoji screens, painting the estate halls in soft gold. One by one, the group emerged from their rooms, freshly washed and changed, the lingering ease of yesterday's rest day still in their steps.
They made their way to the dining hall, the scent of steaming rice and miso soup already drifting through the air.
Esil paused at the doorway, purple hair still slightly damp, tilting her head. "Hmm… something's off."
Maki, walking beside her, nodded once. "You think? There's definitely something off."
Kaiser stretched his arms overhead, orange eyes scanning the empty head seat. "Ah… no training again?"
Zen flopped onto a cushion with a grin. "Is that weird?"
"Well, sort of," Esil said, sliding in beside him. "Two rest days in a row? Master's never this nice."
Stella and Rein entered together, hand in hand. Stella's silver hair caught the light as she glanced around. "It does feel different."
Valkyrie took her usual spot, calm as ever. "Quiet, too."
Rein rubbed the back of his neck, violet eyes thoughtful. "Maybe he's just giving us a break after… everything."
The door slid open again.
Azrael stepped in, tall and imposing as always, brown hair tied back, silver eyes sweeping the room.
"Morning, Master," they all said together, voices overlapping in practiced unison.
"Morning," Azrael replied, voice low and even as he took his seat at the head.
Maki didn't waste time. "Master, what about training?"
Azrael picked up his tea, sipping slowly before answering. "No training today, either. Unfortunately."
Zen's eyes lit up. "Oh, sweet—"
"What was that?" Azrael's voice cut through like ice, sharp as a blade.
Zen froze mid-celebration. "N-nothing."
Valkyrie leaned forward slightly. "Master, what is this about? Principal Wilson has been gone since yesterday."
"Yeah," Stella added softly, concern in her electric-blue eyes.
Rein glanced at Azrael's unreadable expression, then at the group. "Um… guys, I think he's getting annoyed with us now."
"Thank you," Azrael said dryly, the corner of his mouth twitching — the closest thing to amusement he ever showed.
The group fell silent for a beat, then soft laughter rippled around the table — nervous, but genuine.
Azrael set his cup down. "Eat up."
Bowls were filled, chopsticks clacked, and the morning settled into a comfortable rhythm.
But the question lingered in the air, unspoken but felt by all.
Something was coming.
And whatever it was, it had bought them one more day of peace.
When breakfast was done, the group cleared the table in comfortable silence, bowls and cups stacked neatly. They carried everything to the kitchen, rinsing and drying with the easy rhythm of people who had grown used to sharing chores. Laughter echoed softly as Zen flicked water at Esil, earning a playful shove from Maki.
Cleaned up, they migrated back to the center hall, settling on cushions in a loose circle. The morning light streamed through the open doors, the waterfall's roar a constant, soothing backdrop.
Zen flopped back dramatically. "Well, now what?"
Kaiser shrugged, leaning against a pillar. "I don't know. Another game? Or just… nothing?"
Esil grinned. "Nothing sounds good."
Azrael sat nearby with a fresh pot of tea, pouring himself a cup in silence. His gray eyes watched them with faint amusement.
"Hmm," he murmured, more to himself than anyone.
Then the estate bell rang — clear and sharp through the quiet morning.
Ring. Ring.
Everyone froze.
Azrael set his cup down and rose without a word, making his way toward the gate.
The group exchanged glances, curiosity piqued. They drifted to the open doors, watching from afar — careful not to crowd, but unable to resist.
It was Principal Wilson, coat dusted from travel, smiling broadly as Azrael greeted him at the gate.
Zen exhaled. "Oh, it's just the old man."
They relaxed, returning to their cushions as Wilson and Azrael made their way back inside.
Zen waved lazily. "Welcome back, old man."
Wilson chuckled, his smile super bright — warmer than usual, full of quiet excitement. "Thank you, Zen."
Rein tilted his head, sensing something different. "Um… is everything alright, Principal Wilson?"
"Yes, my child," Wilson replied gently, stepping aside just a bit.
Behind him, a girl appeared — about their age, maybe sixteen. Long, straight pale pink hair fell softly down her back, catching the light like cherry blossoms in spring. Warm brown eyes peeked out shyly, large and expressive, framed by delicate features. She wore an oversized cream sweater and a light skirt, clutching a small notebook to her chest like a shield.
Her cheeks were flushed pink, nervousness clear in her posture.
Wilson gestured gently for her to step forward.
She hesitated, then did — small steps, eyes darting to the group before dropping to the floor.
Wilson tapped her shoulder softly, encouraging.
She looked up at him, then opened her notebook with careful fingers.
Page by page, she turned it toward them — pre-written words in neat, gentle handwriting, each letter formed with quiet care.
The first page: Hello. My name is Yuna Hoshino.
She paused, letting them read, then turned to the second.
I am deaf. I use sign language, this notebook, and Astral projection to speak.
The third page came slowly, her cheeks flushed deeper, but her warm brown eyes lifted to meet theirs with steady, hopeful courage.
Please be patient with me.
I'd like to be your friend…
Or maybe even family someday.
If you'll let me.
The words hung in the air like soft light.
Silence fell over the hall — not uncomfortable, but stunned, tender, processing.
Yuna's blush deepened, but she held the notebook steady, fingers trembling just a little. Her eyes darted from face to face, searching, hoping.
Then Stella moved first.
She stepped forward slowly, kneeling to Yuna's level, electric-blue eyes shining with instant warmth. She reached out and gently touched Yuna's notebook, then signed a simple "Hello" — the few signs Stella had learned from a book years ago.
Yuna's eyes widened, then filled with tears of relief. She signed back — quick, fluid motions — and projected a small glowing word in the air between them: Thank you.
Stella smiled, tears welling. "We're glad you're here."
Zen, still stunned, finally found his voice — softer than usual. "Yeah… welcome, Yuna. You're… you're already family if you want to be."
Esil wiped her eyes quickly, grinning through the emotion. "Best friend spot taken? Too late — I'm calling dibs."
Valkyrie stepped closer, silver-pink hair catching the light. She signed "Hello" too — slower, more deliberate — and spoke aloud for the others: "You're safe here."
Maki, usually so reserved, gave a small nod. Her voice was quiet but firm. "We've got you."
Kaiser smiled gently. "No pressure. Just… take your time."
Rein, still standing a little back, met Yuna's gaze. His violet eyes softened — he recognized that look of quiet hope, the fear of being too much or not enough.
He hesitated for a moment, then lifted his gloved hands. Slowly, carefully, he signed words no one in the room expected — words he had taught himself in secret, late at night, from books and videos he never told anyone about.
Hi, Yuna. I'm Rein Seethoshi. I was wondering… could you and I be friends?
The signs were deliberate, a little clumsy, but unmistakable.
Yuna's warm brown eyes widened. Her lips parted in surprise, and tears welled instantly, spilling over before she could stop them. Her hands trembled as she signed back, quick and emotional, while soft, glowing words projected in the air, shimmering with feeling.
Yes. Please. Friends.
Her smile broke through the tears — small, bright, overwhelmed with relief and joy.
The hall exhaled together, a collective breath of warmth and acceptance.
Wilson's voice came softly from the doorway. "Welcome to Reiketsu Village, Yuna."
Azrael, standing silently beside him, gave a single nod — approval, quiet and profound.
The waterfall sang outside.
And in the center hall, under the morning light, a new voice — silent, but powerful — had arrived.
Not alone.
But already home.
Everyone gave Yuna a tour of the estate while Wilson and Azrael remained in the center hall, speaking in low, measured tones.
Azrael sat with his tea, gray eyes fixed on Wilson. "Why have you brought her here?"
His voice was calm, not angry — only curious, the way a master weighs a new variable.
Wilson sighed softly, folding his hands. "She needs it, Master. She's alone. No parents to look after her. She's been an orphan since the rift took her family."
Azrael's expression didn't change. "I'm not a daycare center, Wilson. I already have two living with me."
"I know," Wilson said gently. "But she's only here to train."
Azrael sipped his tea. "Her Astral energy is extremely weak."
Wilson nodded. "Oh, Master, not for combat. For healing. She has real potential there."
Azrael was quiet for a long moment, gaze distant.
"Hmm… Healing." He set the cup down. "I'll try my best, my child."
Wilson's face lit with relief. "Thank you, Master."
Meanwhile, the tour group returned sooner than expected, footsteps echoing lightly in the hall.
Zen stretched his arms overhead. "That was shorter than I thought."
Kaiser chuckled. "Yeah, it felt like the estate shrank."
"Oh," Wilson said, turning with a smile. "Have you all shown Yuna her room?"
Rein, who had been quietly translating everything into sign language for Yuna the whole time, paused mid-gesture.
Yuna's warm brown eyes glowed with sudden excitement when Rein signed the question to her — the idea of her own room sinking in.
"Oh, we totally forgot about that!" Zen exclaimed, slapping his forehead.
"Next stop: Yuna's room!" Esil declared, bouncing on her toes.
"I'll join you all," Wilson said warmly.
"Oh, cool," Zen replied, already leading the way.
The group made their way down the hall, Yuna walking in the middle, notebook clutched close but eyes wide with curiosity.
Wilson slid open the door to a simple but cozy room — tatami mats, a low futon already made up with fresh blankets, a small window overlooking the pines and waterfall, and a desk with paper and pens waiting.
Rein turned to Yuna and signed carefully: Here's your room, Yuna.
Her brown eyes widened instantly. They grew glassy with tears, her lips parting in silent surprise. Her hands flew up, signing thank you over and over again — quick, trembling motions full of overwhelming gratitude.
Stella stepped closer, eyes soft. "It's yours. All yours."
Esil grinned, wiping a sneaky tear. "We can decorate it later if you want! Flowers, lights, whatever!"
Yuna signed back shyly, projecting glowing words: Really? Thank you… so much.
Wilson walked up beside her and signed fluently: You're welcome, my child.
Zen's jaw dropped. "Wait… Principal Wilson, you know sign language, too?"
Wilson chuckled. "Of course. Even Master knows it. It's a basic requirement to become a teacher or master in this generation. Though most don't bother to learn properly."
Azrael, who had followed quietly, gave a small nod from the doorway. His signs were precise, almost elegant: Welcome home.
Yuna's tears spilled over then — happy ones. She signed back to both men, hands shaking: Thank you… for everything.
Rein smiled softly, signing to her: You deserve it.
The group lingered in the doorway, watching Yuna step inside tentatively, touching the futon, the desk, the window — like she couldn't believe it was real.
Esil whispered to Maki, "She's gonna fit right in."
Maki nodded, voice low. "Yeah. She already does."
Under the morning light streaming through her new window, Yuna turned back to them, projecting one final glowing message that floated gently in the air:
I'm happy to be here. With all of you.
And in that moment, the estate felt a little fuller.
A little brighter.
A little more like home.
"Let her freshen up," Principal Wilson said with a gentle smile, gesturing toward the hallway.
"Yes, Principal Wilson," the group chorused, voices overlapping in easy agreement.
Rein turned to Yuna, signing slowly and carefully: You can freshen up. We'll all be in the center hall. See you soon.
Yuna nodded, her pale pink hair swaying slightly. She signed back a quick Thank you, cheeks still pink, then headed toward her room with small, grateful steps.
The group made their way back to the center hall, settling once more on the cushions. The morning light had shifted, warmer now, casting long patterns across the tatami.
Esil flopped down with a contented sigh. "She's super pretty."
"Yeah," Valkyrie agreed softly, a rare note of warmth in her voice. "She is."
Rein sat quietly, violet eyes thoughtful. "Um… Principal Wilson, what's her story?"
Wilson's expression softened as he took his seat. "She's an orphan. Lost her parents in a rift incident when she was young."
"Oh…" Rein murmured, the word heavy. "I see."
Zen leaned forward, curiosity genuine. "Um… can she speak?"
Wilson nodded. "She can, if she wants to. But her pronunciation isn't the clearest. She has hearing aids, but they only allow her to hear at a very minimal level — faint sounds, mostly."
Valkyrie frowned slightly, silver-pink hair catching the light. "Hm. We have nano-tech now, and so many other advancements… yet it's still unable to fully restore her hearing?"
Wilson's voice was gentle, patient. "It's different when you're born with it versus losing it over time. The rifts damaged more than just her ears — the Astral interference complicated things. Medicine can only do so much."
"I see," Valkyrie said quietly, understanding settling in.
A soft slide of the door announced Yuna's return.
She stepped in shyly, now wearing a simple yukata — pale blue with subtle flower patterns, the fabric loose and comfortable. Her long, pale pink hair was tied back loosely, a few strands framing her face.
She hesitated, then signed with a small, embarrassed smile: Can someone help me with the big bow at the back?
Rein translated aloud for the group, his signs mirroring hers as he spoke.
Esil chuckled warmly, already standing. "Sure, I can!"
She bounced over, gently turning Yuna around and tying the obi bow with practiced ease — neat, fluffy, perfect.
Yuna turned back, signing a quick Thank you with a bright, grateful smile.
Esil grinned. "You look adorable!"
The group murmured agreement, warm and welcoming.
Yuna's cheeks flushed again, but her brown eyes sparkled as she took a seat among them.
The center hall felt fuller.
And just a little brighter.
Yuna turned toward Rein, curiosity shining bright in her big brown eyes. She signed slowly, her hands graceful despite the slight tremble of emotion.
How do you know sign language?
"Oh…" Rein said softly, exhaling a quiet sigh. He lifted his hands again, signing as he spoke aloud for the others. "I learned it… because I know what it's like to feel alone."
The words hung in the air, simple but heavy with truth.
Yuna's eyes filled with tears almost instantly, shimmering as they welled up and spilled over. She stared at him, lips parted in silent understanding.
Rein stepped closer, gentle as always. He reached out and placed a gloved hand on her head, giving her a soft, reassuring pat — the kind of small comfort that carried more weight than words.
"You're not alone anymore," he said, voice low and steady, signing the words clearly for her.
Yuna's hands moved quickly, trembling with emotion.
Can I have a hug?
Rein glanced over at Stella.
Her electric-blue eyes were glassy with unshed tears, but her smile was warm, full of quiet happiness and pride. She nodded without hesitation.
Rein opened his arms.
Yuna stepped forward immediately, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his yukata. Silent sobs shook her shoulders, tears soaking into the fabric.
Rein held her gently, one hand stroking her pale pink hair.
The room was quiet, the group watching with soft, understanding smiles.
Esil wiped her eyes, voice thick. "Poor girl…"
Stella stepped closer, resting a hand on Yuna's back. "We've got you," she whispered, even though Yuna couldn't hear — the touch said it all.
Yuna pulled back slightly after a moment, signing shakily with a watery smile.
Thank you… all of you.
Rein signed back, simple and sure.
We're family.
Yuna's tears fell again, but this time with a bright, relieved smile.
The center hall felt warmer.
And in that quiet moment, under the morning light, bonds deepened without a single word spoken aloud.
Just hearts understanding hearts.
"OKAY!" Zen clapped his hands together loudly, the sharp sound echoing through the center hall.
Even Yuna jumped slightly, turning toward the noise with wide brown eyes. She tilted her head curiously, then smiled when she realized it was just Zen being Zen.
Rein, sitting beside her, quickly translated the entire conversation into sign language — his hands moving with practiced care, recounting the group's warm welcome, the jokes, the promises of friendship and family.
Yuna's eyes sparkled as she followed his signs, a soft laugh escaping her — silent, but bright.
Zen watched, then grinned even wider. "Rein, start teaching us sign language. Right now."
Rein raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can handle it?"
"Of course!" Zen puffed out his chest. "How hard can it be? I'm a fast learner."
"Oh boy…" Kaiser muttered, rubbing his temple with a knowing smile.
Esil laughed. "This is gonna be good."
Stella squeezed Rein's hand encouragingly. "I want to learn too."
Valkyrie nodded. "It's useful. And… respectful."
Maki crossed her arms but leaned forward slightly. "I'm in."
Rein looked at Yuna and signed gently: Will you help me teach them?
Yuna's face lit up. She signed back instantly — quick, eager motions — Yes! I'd love to.
Principal Wilson chuckled from his seat. "Oh, I'll help too."
Rein blinked. "Are you sure, Principal Wilson?"
"Of course," Wilson said warmly. "I may be rusty, but I remember enough."
Azrael, still silent in the corner, gave a small nod — approval without words.
The lesson began right there in the center hall.
Rein and Yuna sat in the middle, Wilson beside them for backup. The group formed a loose circle, notebooks and eager faces ready.
They started with basics: hello, thank you, please, names.
Zen's first attempt at "hello" looked more like he was swatting a fly.
Esil snorted. "Zen, you look like you're trying to catch a mosquito."
"Shut up! It's close enough!"
Yuna covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She projected a glowing emoji — a laughing face — floating in the air.
Everyone burst out laughing.
Stella practiced diligently, her signs careful and neat. "Like this?" she signed to Yuna.
Yuna nodded enthusiastically, correcting her gently with a smile.
Valkyrie's signs were precise from the start — sharp, efficient.
Maki mirrored her, learning fast, blue eyes focused.
Kaiser took it seriously, too, repeating each motion until it felt natural.
Zen… tried.
His "thank you" looked like he was bowing to an invisible king.
His "please" resembled waving goodbye.
But Yuna understood every mangled attempt, smiling each time encouragingly.
Hours passed in a blur of laughter, corrections, and progress.
By late afternoon — around 4:45 p.m. — the sun had shifted to warm gold through the windows.
Zen flopped back dramatically. "Oh, my head is about to explode. Who knew hands could hurt from talking?"
Esil giggled, flexing her fingers. "You're just bad at it."
"I'm… uniquely expressive," Zen protested.
Kaiser chuckled. "Your 'hello' looks like you're hailing a taxi."
Valkyrie signed perfectly: Much better now.
Maki followed with a smooth Thank you for teaching us.
Stella signed to Yuna: You're an amazing teacher.
Yuna blushed, projecting glowing words: You're all fast learners. Thank you.
Rein smiled, signing to the group: See? Not so hard.
Zen groaned. "Speak for yourself. My signs are… abstract art."
Yuna laughed silently again, projecting a thumbs-up just for him.
Wilson stretched, satisfied. "Good progress, everyone. We'll continue tomorrow."
The group groaned playfully, but their eyes were bright, tired, but happy.
They had learned more than signs that day.
They had learned how to reach across silence.
And Yuna had felt, for the first time in a long while, truly heard.
The day had faded into a quiet evening, and the group scattered after another light session of sign practice and lazy games. Rein found himself on the rooftop again — the same place he and Stella had slept under the stars. The night sky was clear, stars scattered like Nora's guardians.
He sat on the edge, legs dangling, gloved hands resting on his knees. The waterfall's roar was a constant companion, but tonight it felt distant.
Footsteps soft behind him.
Yuna appeared, pale pink hair catching the moonlight. She hesitated at the door, then stepped out, clutching her notebook but not opening it yet.
Rein turned, surprised but smiling faintly. He signed: Hi. Couldn't sleep?
Yuna shook her head, signing back: Thinking. You?
He patted the spot beside him.
She sat carefully, leaving a respectful space, then closer when he gestured.
For a while, they just looked at the stars.
Then Yuna tilted her head, brown eyes searching his face. A faint glow appeared near her hand — her Astral ability stirring. Soft, star-like particles formed words in the air, visible only to him.
Your heart feels heavy sometimes. Like static. Like mine used to.
Rein's breath caught. He hadn't realized she could sense it — the Chaos, the grief.
He signed slowly: You feel it?
She nodded, projecting: Emotions. Strong ones. Yours is… sad. But kind.
Rein looked away, violet eyes glistening. He signed, voice low as he spoke aloud for himself: My mom… Nora… died in a car crash when I was seven years old. She was everything.
Yuna's eyes widened, filling with tears instantly.
He continued, signing and speaking, the words spilling out like they'd been waiting.
My dad, Silas… he tried to protect us from something dark. Chaos. He went into the Void to stop it. But he didn't come back the same. His memories were erased. He became… something else. A servant. I never got to know him. Not really.
Tears slipped down Rein's cheeks now, silent but real.
Yuna's hands flew to her mouth, tears streaming freely. She signed over and over, frantic and heartbroken: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Glowing words projected around her: So sorry. That's too much pain.
Rein wiped his eyes, reaching out to gently stop her hands. He signed: It's okay. You didn't know.
She shook her head, crying harder, signing: No one should carry that alone.
He pulled her into a careful hug — the second of the day, but this one full of shared grief.
She cried into his shoulder, silent sobs shaking her small frame.
After a while, she pulled back, wiping her face. Rein signed gently: Your turn? If you want.
Yuna nodded, tears still falling. She signed slowly, projecting words to make sure he understood every one.
My parents… died in a rift incident. I was little. The rift opened near our home. They protected me. Pushed me out. But the energy… took my hearing. And my voice, mostly.
She touched her ears, then her throat.
I woke up in the hospital. Alone. No family left.
Rein's eyes filled again. He signed: I'm sorry. That's… I can't imagine.
Yuna managed a small, watery smile. Projected: But now… I have you. All of you.
Rein hugged her again, tighter this time.
Under the stars that had watched over lost parents and broken children, two survivors held each other.
Not alone anymore.
The night held them close.
And for the first time, the weight felt shared.
The night held them close on the rooftop, stars scattered like quiet witnesses above. Rein and Yuna sat side by side, tears dried, the heavy words shared and lighter now for it.
Yuna leaned her head lightly against his shoulder — not romantic, just the comfort of someone who understood. Rein didn't pull away.
They stayed like that for a long while, signing small things when words felt too big.
Stars are pretty tonight, Yuna projected, glowing letters soft and slow.
Rein smiled faintly. My mom said they were guardians. Watching over us.
Yuna's eyes softened. She projected: Then they watched over you until we could.
Rein's throat tightened. He signed back: Thank you for listening.
She signed: Thank you for telling.
A comfortable silence settled, the waterfall's song filling the space between them.
Eventually, Yuna stood, signing: Sleep?
Rein nodded. Yeah. Goodnight, Yuna.
Goodnight, friend. Rein.
They walked down the stairs together, footsteps quiet in the sleeping estate.
At her door, she turned and projected one last glowing message: Tomorrow will be better.
Rein believed her.
He slipped into his room, the weight on his chest not gone, but shared.
Outside, the stars kept watch.
And in Reiketsu Estate, under the same endless sky, healing continued — one silent conversation at a time.
The new voice had found its place.
And the family grew a little stronger.