As they stepped out of the church, Johnny paused for a moment.
"Puck, hide," Johnny commanded flatly. "Don't scare the ordinary people."
"Ready, Boss! I'll be your head lice!" Puck slipped beneath Johnny's thick red hair, while Ivalera transformed herself into a faint glimmer of light that merged with Aerith's hair ribbon.
They walked away from the church. The sky over Sector 5 had already turned a deep purple. The dim streetlights began to flicker on, one by one.
They didn't speak much during the journey. Aerith gripped the cuff of Johnny's jacket, as if afraid the boy would run away if she let go. Johnny let her, his eyes warily scanning every dark corner of the street—not out of fear of monsters, but because it was the only way he could feel useful right now.
After crossing a small wooden bridge and a quietly flowing stream of wastewater, they arrived at a house that looked like an anomaly.
The house was built of sturdy brick with a neat tiled roof—very different from the tin shacks surrounding it. In the front yard, a small flower garden was beautifully maintained, enclosed by a white wooden fence. A small artificial waterfall trickled softly.
Peaceful. Too peaceful for the Slums.
The front door opened before they could knock. A middle-aged woman with a beautiful but stern face stood there, wearing a neat house dress.
Elmyra Gainsborough.
"Aerith! Where have you been? Do you know what time it i—"
Elmyra stopped speaking when her eyes caught the figure beside Aerith.
A boy with messy red hair, clothes dirty with dust and dark stains, carrying a suspicious large bundle on his back. And his gaze... Elmyra took a step back. Those were not the eyes of a child. They were the gaze of someone who had seen far too much death.
"Who is this?" Elmyra's voice sharpened, her protective instinct flaring.
Johnny reflexively looked down, avoiding eye contact. He knew his stare made ordinary people uncomfortable. "Sorry to intrude, Ma'am. I'm Johnny. I was just walking Aerith ho—"
"This is Johnny, Mom!" Aerith interrupted cheerfully, pulling Johnny closer. "He helped me tend the flowers at the church earlier. And he also chased away the hedgehog monsters that wanted to burn my garden!"
Elmyra looked at Aerith, then looked back at Johnny. She saw Johnny's dirty, calloused hands, then saw Aerith's expression, which looked very... comfortable near this boy. Elmyra knew Aerith had a special instinct for good and bad people.
Slowly, Elmyra's shoulders relaxed.
"You... helped Aerith?" Elmyra asked, her tone softening.
Johnny nodded stiffly. "Just happened to be passing by, Ma'am."
Elmyra sighed, then offered a thin smile—the smile of a mother who was tired but grateful. "In that case, don't stand outside. Come in. You must be hungry."
Elmyra's dining table was different from the one in Johnny's house. There was a clean tablecloth with a floral pattern. The plates were fine ceramic with no cracks. The chandelier provided a warm glow, not a blinding white neon light.
Johnny sat on the wooden chair with extreme caution, afraid of dirtying or breaking something. He placed his greatsword in the corner of the room near the entrance.
Dinner was served: Thick chicken cream soup, bread that was soft and still warm, and a fresh vegetable salad. Luxury food by Slums standards.
"Please eat, Johnny," Elmyra said kindly. "Sorry it's not much."
"This is... incredible, Ma'am," Johnny murmured.
The first spoonful of soup went into his mouth. It tasted rich, seasoned, and soft. A sharp contrast to the hard rations Guts used to eat, or his mother's watery soup in Sector 7 (though he still loved his mother's cooking).
"So, Johnny," Elmyra started the conversation while cutting her bread. "Where do you live? Aren't your parents looking for you?"
Johnny put down his spoon for a moment. "Sector 7, Ma'am. My father owns a workshop. I already asked permission to look for scrap metal here, maybe stay the night if it got too late."
"Workshop kid?" Elmyra raised an eyebrow. "That explains why you look so strong. But what is that you're carrying on your back? It looks very heavy."
Aerith and Johnny looked at each other for a moment.
"It's... a large crowbar, Mom," Aerith interjected quickly, winking at Johnny. "A tool for prying apart scrap iron, right Johnny?"
"Yes," Johnny answered flatly, going along with the lie. "Work tool."
Elmyra looked at them both in turn. She knew something was being hidden, but she also saw how ravenously Johnny ate. The boy ate quickly and efficiently, as if afraid the food would be taken away, but still tried to be polite.
"Just finish it, there is plenty more in the pot," Elmyra said softly, pouring more soup into Johnny's bowl.
That night, under the light of the dining room, Johnny felt something beginning to fill the massive hole in his heart. His old world had indeed crumbled to dust. His friends were gone.
But here... this soup was warm. This bread was soft. And the girl in front of him was smiling at him sincerely.
'Maybe...' Johnny thought as he stared at the steam rising from his soup. 'Maybe this is what Gaia meant. That life doesn't always have to be about war.'
After dinner, Elmyra cleared the table.
"It's late, and the trains to Sector 7 aren't running at this hour," Elmyra said. "You can sleep on the living room sofa, Johnny. It's soft enough. Aerith, get a spare blanket."
"Thank you, Ma'am. I don't want to be a burden," Johnny said.
"The boy who saved my daughter will never be a burden," Elmyra stated firmly with a smile.
That night, Johnny slept on the soft sofa in the warm living room. His greatsword leaned beside him within arm's reach. Puck crawled out of his hair and slept on the sofa cushion.