The damage should have been irreversible.
Blood still soaked the stone. Broken bodies lay where they had fallen, limbs torn, breath stolen mid-moment. The air carried the copper stench of death, thick enough to cling to the lungs.
Raizen stood motionless at the center of it all, Aoi locked against him—arms wrapped tight around his torso, fingers curled into the fabric of his clothes like anchors refusing to let go.
She was trembling.
Not shaking—trembling, deep and uncontrollable.
Before anyone could speak, the air shifted.
A low hum rolled across the street, soft but resonant, like a bell rung underwater. Symbols flared into existence along the ground—thin, circular glyphs etched in pale blue light.
Figures emerged from the glow.
Sorcerers.
Their robes were layered and practical rather than ceremonial, marked with sigils of restoration and reversal. Their faces were calm—too calm for the carnage before them—as if they had stepped into something expected.
One of them raised a hand.
"Step back," he said evenly.
The magic unfolded instantly.
Light poured from the glyphs like water spilling from broken vessels, wrapping around the torn bodies on the ground. Flesh pulled itself together, bones sliding back into place with wet, unnatural sounds. Blood reversed its flow, crawling back into veins, sealing wounds as if time itself was being rewound.
The three men who had been torn apart gasped sharply.
Air slammed back into their lungs.
They screamed.
Alive.
Raizen's eyes widened slightly.
The sorcerers moved without pause, hands hovering over the injured retainers. Cracked bones realigned. Bruises faded. Internal damage vanished like mist burned away by sunlight.
One sorcerer knelt before Raizen.
"Hold out your hand."
Raizen did.
The wound in his palm—still bleeding—was enveloped in soft white light. Pain dulled, then disappeared entirely. Skin knit together seamlessly, leaving no scar behind.
Raizen flexed his fingers.
"…Thank you."
The sorcerer nodded once.
"We know you're confused," another said, stepping forward. "Listen carefully. Our art works only on destruction that occurred within three minutes. Anything beyond that… cannot be undone."
Raizen glanced at the revived men, still gasping, still shaking.
"…I see."
The sorcerers withdrew as quietly as they had come, glyphs fading until the street was nothing but stone once more.
Silence returned.
Only then did Raizen realize—
Aoi hadn't moved.
She was pressed fully against him now, cheek against his chest, arms locked tight around his waist. No amount of gentle shifting loosened her grip.
"Aoi…" he murmured softly.
No response.
He tried again, carefully attempting to ease her arms away.
They didn't budge.
She only clutched him tighter.
Raizen froze.
"…I can't take it off," he muttered under his breath, trying again with slightly more force.
Nothing.
She was stuck to him like she feared the moment she let go, he would vanish.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Guess I'm stuck," he said quietly.
His ears warmed.
"I… guess I'll have to sleep like this tonight."
The thought hit him a second later.
"…This is going to be my first time sleeping next to a girl."
A small, awkward laugh escaped him.
"Hehe…"
Senji, who had been watching from a few steps away, pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You dumbass," he said flatly. "Don't get naughty thoughts."
Raizen flushed instantly. "I wasn't!"
Senji sighed, adjusting his coat.
"She's clinging to you because out of all of us," he continued, "you were the only one who understood her. Or at least didn't push her when she was breaking."
Raizen looked down at Aoi.
Her breathing had evened out. Still trembling faintly—but calmer. Safe.
Senji glanced away.
"…I gotta check something," he muttered. "This gadget—the Go-Pro Excavander. I'll be back."
He walked off, leaving Raizen standing there, Aoi still holding onto him, the night finally quiet.