Steam curled softly around the tiled walls of the inn's shared bathhouse, the sound of water gently sloshing the only company Issei had. He leaned back against the smooth edge of the hot bath, his arms stretched out, and a relaxed sigh slipping from his lips.
"This is so peaceful." He murmured, closing his eyes and letting the warmth soak into his sore muscles. The date had left him tense in places he didn't even know existed, and with the recent revelations about the Sekirei Plan, his mind was just as tired.
The tranquil moment, however, was about to end.
Click.
The door slid open. Issei's eyes opened lazily—expecting maybe Kagari or even Miya to walk by with a towel but his entire brain short-circuited as he saw who entered.
"M-Matsu?!"
Standing confidently in the doorway, completely and utterly naked, was Sekirei No. 2, with her glasses slightly fogged up from the heat and her crimson hair cascading down her shoulders like fire. Her large breasts bounced slightly as she stepped forward with purpose, eyes locked onto him with a gleam of mischief.
"Fufu~ You look surprised, my dear Ashikabi," Matsu said, a grin playing across her lips as she began striding toward the bath. "It's only fair, don't you think? Uzume and Yashima got to go out on a lovely date with you. But I didn't get any alone time. Now's my turn."
"Matsu, wait—!" Issei tried to stand, panic beginning to bloom in his chest, but the moment her bare figure slipped into the water and pressed against him, his mind turned to mush.
His heart raced wildly, his body reacting in all the predictable ways as her soft skin pressed into his side. Her ample chest molded against his chest, and when her lips met his in a sudden, deep kiss, his thoughts exploded into fireworks.
This was bad. This was so, so bad. But also… so very good.
Matsu pulled away just enough to look into his wide, flustered eyes, her voice husky with want. "I want to be closer to you, Issei. You're our Ashikabi, our everything. I want to win… even if it's just for tonight."
As her hands started to slide lower, Issei grabbed her wrists gently but firmly, eyes conflicted but resolute.
"I-I promised someone." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. "My first girlfriend, Yuuka… we made a promise. That we'd save our first time for each other. I can't break that. I won't."
Matsu blinked in surprise, her lips parting slightly, then twisted into a playful pout. "Even if it's me? Your loyal, sexy, genius Matsu?"
Before she could test how strong that promise was, the door slid open again with a soft whisk.
Uzume stepped in with a towel wrapped lazily around her curves. "Yo, Issei~ Mind if I join—wait, what the hell?!"
She stared at the sight of Matsu plastered all over Issei, her towel slipping just enough to hint that she'd been expecting to do more than just soak.
"You totally stole my idea!" Uzume said, pointing an accusing finger at the redhead. "I was literally walking here to do exactly this!"
Matsu smirked from where she still pressed against Issei's chest. "You snooze, you lose, Uzume."
"Like hell!" Uzume threw her towel off and slipped into the bath like a missile. Water splashed up as she lunged and wrapped herself around Issei's free side. "Issei's my Ashikabi too! You can't hog him all to yourself!"
"Get off him, you striped thigh-exhibitionist!"
"Says the shameless hacking gooner!"
Issei could only sit there, mouth agape, arms now full of two impossibly beautiful, very naked women fighting over him, their heated bodies clashing in the water, their faces inches from his, as they pushed against each other for dominance.
"I… I'm in heaven," Issei muttered with a dizzy, love-struck grin.
Then came a tiny voice from the now-crooked door.
"U-Um…"
All eyes turned to the entrance.
Yashima stood there frozen in a blue swimsuit, her face beet red, her hands nervously clutching her towel. Her body trembled slightly with embarrassment. "I-I just wanted to… maybe wash Ashikabi-sama's back…"
She stepped closer, eyes darting to the utterly sinful scene before her. Uzume and Matsu, both unabashed, pressing into their shared Ashikabi like rival lionesses.
"H-How are you two so bold?!" She squeaked, trying to cover her face.
But still… She continued a timid step forward.
And another.
Eventually, she slipped into the bath with a tiny yelp, sitting beside Issei's back, her hands shaking as she reached for the washcloth. How adorable.
Issei's brain had shut down completely at this point. There was too much. Too much skin. Too much softness. Too much attention.
And, of course, fate wasn't done with him yet.
CRACK.
The door slid open one final time. But this time, it wasn't one of his adoring Sekirei.
It was Miya.
Her aura was calm. Terrifyingly calm. Her wooden sword rested on her shoulder like a silent death warrant. Her smile was pure.
Too pure.
"What," she said sweetly, "is going on in my bathhouse?"
All three Sekirei froze mid-motion. Issei gulped, his survival instincts kicking in too late."M-M-Miya-san, this isn't—!"
"No lewdness in my inn! Not unless you're married!" A shadow loomed over them. A dreadful aura froze the steam in midair.
Miya. Wearing her miko outfit, hair flowing, and eyes closed in a terrifyingly serene smile. In her hands—her infamous wooden sword.
"I see you've all grown very comfortable," she said, voice calm and low. "Perhaps too comfortable."
"AHHHHH!"
Uzume and Matsu shrieked in unison, slipping over each other in the water like startled cats. Miya's smile remained unchanged—elegant, serene, and somehow ten times more terrifying.
She didn't wait. A blur of motion.
WHACK!
Matsu went airborne. Like a fleshy missile, she soared from the bath with a shocked gasp, flailing as she crashed into a shelf of towels and skincare products with a resounding thump.
WHACK!
Uzume was next—spun like a top and flung backwards, She spiraled gracelessly through the air and into the changing room beyond.
Yashima, trembling and pale, scrambled to stand. "I-I didn't mean to—!"
THWACK.
A blur of wood met her rear end mid-turn, sending her sliding across the soaked tile floor, legs kicking in the air as she yelped.
Miya exhaled calmly, tucking her wooden sword against her shoulder like a satisfied master swordsman. "Your modesty was appreciated, Yashima," she said with unnerving cheer. "But rules are rules."
The bathhouse was now a disaster zone. Towels scattered. Bottles tipped over. Steam churned angrily around the edges of chaos.
And then… she turned. To him.
Issei froze, every muscle in his body tensing. He could feel the cold sweat running down his spine despite the heat of the bath. His brain fired on all cylinders.
'Escape? No exit. Apologize? Too late. Hide? Where?'
He had only one option.
He braced himself, eyes shut so tight it made his jaw hurt. "I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T HIT MEEEE—!!"
SWOOSH.
A breeze passed his cheek. He flinched. But the blow never came.
"…Huh?" Cautiously, Issei cracked open one eye.
Miya stood in front of him, sword paused mid-swing, just an inch from where his shoulder used to be. Her eyes were wide. "…Eh?"
He looked down. He wasn't where he'd been standing. He'd moved. "Wait… I dodged?" He whispered, genuinely stunned.
A long silence filled the bathhouse. Even the wind seemed to hush.
Miya slowly lowered her sword, blinking at him with genuine curiosity. "You… did."
He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers like they might explain something. "But I didn't even think—I just moved. My body reacted on its own." A chill ran down his spine again, this time not from fear—but from something else. A sense of change. He wasn't just imagining it. Something inside him had shifted. A subtle instinct. A reflex. Almost like. Maybe all the training he has done finally helped.
Miya tilted her head slightly, her expression still calm, but her eyes sharper now. "Perhaps it's your instincts adapting… or maybe your connection with your Sekirei has begun to unlock more than you realize."
Issei gulped. "Y-You think so?"
The naked forms of Matsu and Uzume lay in a crumpled heap in the two rooms, groaning dramatically, while Yashima whimpered under a towel, rubbing her sore backside.
Miya's bokken still hovered mid-air, her posture frozen. Her expression—usually so serene and composed—flickered with rare confusion. But then her brow twitched. Something in her pride, in her sacred duty as innkeeper and enforcer of decency, would not let this slide.
"That's... interesting," she finally said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "But it doesn't mean you're off the hook, Issei-kun." She said in a low tone, voice as polite as ever but laced with a quiet wrath. "Justice must be served."
"Wait, wh—?!" Issei yelped, eyes widening. "Wait, wait—Miya-san, let's talk about this—!" Issei barely had time to finish before the woman moved. She didn't walk. She glided across the floor like a vengeful spirit. With Issei doing his absolute best not to get hit.
And so began the chase.
With a flash, the fearsome Hannya mask seemed to materialize behind her, her presence overwhelming like a divine punishment descending from the heavens. The naked, dripping boy screamed and bolted out of the bath, slipping and sliding down the hallway as Miya gave chase.
"Get back here, young man!" she called, swinging her bokken with terrifying precision.
"I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING!" Issei cried, legs pumping furiously as he dashed through the inn's corridors, soaked and slippery.
He swerved past a confused Kagari, barely dodged a tray of tea from the startled Homura, and turned sharply down the hall.
He ducked behind a wooden pillar.
WHACK.
The pillar splintered.
"Gyah!" He yelped, diving to the ground as Miya's bokken cleaved air just behind him.
Issei's legs were burning. His wet skin stuck to the wood with every frantic move. He made it halfway to the Inn's entrance when his foot slipped on the slick floor. "Oh no—!"
Gravity yanked him down with cruel timing.
Right onto Miya. Who was mid swing to Issei's head.
"Waaah—!"
SLIP.
THUD.
With the force of a flying leap gone wrong, Issei crashed directly into Miya.
"OOF!"
Both of them went tumbling down the polished wooden floor in a heap of flailing limbs and trailing bath steam. When they stopped, Miya lay on her back, wide-eyed, with a very naked Issei sprawled awkwardly on top of her. Her bokken had clattered out of reach.
"Ah! I—!" Issei immediately rolled off her, his face a shade of red brighter than any shade of his Boosted Gear. "I'm so sorry! That was totally an accident—I swear! I didn't mean to fall on you, Miya-san! I didn't mean to—! Wait, are you okay?!"
He scrambled to his knees, dripping wet and frantically concerned, reaching a hand out to help her stand up.
But Miya didn't answer. She wasn't moving. She wasn't even breathing, it seemed.
Instead, her eyes were wide. Her lips trembled. Her body slightly shivered. She looked down at her hand, the one Issei had accidentally touched. Her mind reeled.
'That presence... This power…'
Her whole being felt it. The moment he touched her, she knew. He wasn't just an irregular boy who got caught up in all this by accident. He was something more—something beyond. In touching her—even briefly—Issei had formed a connection. She had lived years believing no one would be capable of claiming her but here. A cheeky high schooler with a perverted streak was able to bring a reaction.
Miya had felt it. But it was impossible for any human to wing her. "A-Ashikabi…" She whispered under her breath, almost inaudible.
Issei blinked. "Huh?"
Inside Miya, something stirred. Her instincts as a Sekirei—the ones she had long buried and suppressed—had awakened for the first time in years. For the first time since Takehito's death, her body and soul had reacted to an Ashikabi.
No. Not just an Ashikabi.
His presence. Issei's presence.
Her heart and mind screamed in protest.
'No! This is wrong! I belong to Takehito! I loved only him! I still love only him! I can't… I won't…'
Her fingers clenched against the floor.
Issei noticed the trembling. "Miya-san?" he asked again, his voice gentler now. He knelt beside her, hesitating. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you or—?"
"DON'T!" Miya cried out suddenly, eyes filled with desperation. She pulled away from him, shielding her face with one hand while the other pressed against her chest. "Please... don't touch me."
Issei's breath caught. He hadn't seen her like this—this vulnerable, this shaken.
"I… I'm sorry," he said again, lowering his hand slowly. "I didn't mean to—"
"Just… just go," Miya whispered, not meeting his eyes. "Please, Issei-kun. Just leave me be."
Issei stood slowly, heart heavy with confusion and guilt. "O-Okay. I'll go." He stood slowly, realizing only then that he was still completely, absolutely naked. "Crap." He muttered. He took one last glance at Miya—her figure curled in on itself slightly, her head bowed, her hands trembling as she fought with emotions she thought long buried.
"I'm sorry if I did something wrong," Issei said quietly.
"You didn't." She whispered back. "…That's the problem."
Behind him, Miya gripped her chest, as if trying to smother the ache growing there. As he vanished down the hallway, Miya slowly sat up. She looked at her hand again—the one that still tingled with the aftershock of Issei's presence.
"…Takehito…" she whispered. "Forgive me." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered with a trembling voice, "What do I do?"
In the bathhouse, chaos continued as Matsu and Uzume recovered from their earlier punishment and began arguing over whose idea it really was to sneak into the bath first.
—--------------------------------
Meanwhile, Issei, now hastily wrapped in a towel and flustered beyond repair, marched back toward his room. The cool air of the hallway did nothing to soothe the burning in his face—or the confusion and guilt knotting in his gut.
His mind kept circling back to Miya's expression. That look in her eyes… the way she trembled… It wasn't the anger or irritation he expected from being fallen on. It was something deeper. Raw. Wounded.
'Did I do something I shouldn't have done?' He wondered, his thoughts spinning with guilt and uncertainty.
(I say you shouldn't worry about it, partner.) Ddraig's calm, booming voice echoed in his mind, cutting through the storm like a familiar lighthouse.
'How can I not? She looked so hurt… like I'd stepped over a line I didn't even know was there…'
"If I had to guess based on our previous experience…" Sherri's voice joined in gently, thoughtful and sincere. "...Miya-san is probably reacting to your presence after she touched you. Her reaction wasn't because of what you did wrong—it was because of what she felt."
Issei blinked. 'Wait, what do you mean by that?'
(Did you forget already, partner?) Ddraig sighed. (Everyone in this inn, except you, is a Sekirei. That one—Miya—is reacting to your presence. You're an Ashikabi, and a powerful one. When she touched you, she felt it. Her instincts likely kicked in.)
Issei stopped walking. His eyes widened slightly as he finally made the connection. The sensation that passed between them when their skin touched… It wasn't just a coincidence.
'She's… reacting like the others…' he realized. 'Like when Matsu first connected to me, or when Yashima did…'
A sudden, somber realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
'But Miya… she doesn't want that. She's holding back. She's not like the others…'
His chest tightened.
He remembered now. Miya never spoke much about her past, but he had heard enough to understand. She had been with someone once. Someone she had truly loved. Her husband. And from the way she carried herself, how her eyes sometimes lingered on old memories when she thought no one noticed, Issei knew that love hadn't faded with time.
"She's doing her absolute best to reject what her instincts are telling her. Because she doesn't want to betray the man she once gave her heart to." Sherri explained gently. "To her, being winged by you… would feel like betraying him. Even if that's not your intention."
Issei clenched his fists slightly at his sides.
'Then what should I do? Should I apologize again? Should I try to talk to her?'
(At this point? Nothing.) Ddraig replied firmly. (Trying to help her now might only make things worse. She's fighting something inside herself, something personal. If you force yourself into that space—even by accident—you might only hurt her more. Unless you want to force her into being yours…) Ddraig added.
Issei's reaction was instant.
'No! Of course not!' He mentally shouted. 'I'd never do that! I don't want anyone to feel trapped by me!'
(Then you know what you have to do, partner.)
Issei's pace slowed as he reached the hallway near his room. The towel clung awkwardly to his hips, and his hair still dripped water onto the wooden floorboards. But all he could think about was the look in Miya's eyes, and how he never wanted to see her that shaken again.
'I should keep my distance.' He decided. 'At least… until she's ready. If she's ever ready. I can't make that choice for her.'
He turned the doorknob quietly and stepped inside his room, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft finality. The warmth of the inn's interior, the faint scent of tea from down the hall, the distant giggles of the others recovering from bath time chaos—it all seemed so normal.
But inside, a quiet storm still raged.
Issei Hyoudou, naked, wet, and more emotionally drained than physically, collapsed on the futon and stared at the ceiling.
"…This Ashikabi thing continues to be way more complicated than I thought." He muttered.
(Welcome to emotional maturity, partner.) Ddraig deadpanned.
"…Yeah. Thanks for that."
—-----------------------------
The quiet creak of wooden floorboards echoed softly through the halls of Izumo Inn as Matsu ascended the staircase, towel-dried hair brushing her shoulders, glasses still slightly fogged from the bath.
Now fully dressed in her usual pink cheongsam, she had one goal in mind—return to her room, lock the door, and resume her favorite activity: gooning over her Ashikabi and planning her next move to win his heart. Or maybe just sneak into his room and cuddle with Issei. She hadn't decided yet.
But just as she reached the top of the hidden stairs, a figure stood silently in the hallway, blocking her path.
Matsu blinked. "…Miya?"
The landlady stood there like a porcelain statue, serene yet brittle. Her long purple hair framed a pale, unreadable face, but her eyes—those sharp brown eyes—were clouded with something Matsu hadn't seen in a long, long time.
Miya was trembling.
"Ah… uh…" Matsu chuckled nervously, backing up half a step. "If this is about the bath thing, I swear I wasn't going to go all the way! We were just messing around, really! I apologize, really, truly—"
"No," Miya interrupted quietly, her voice lacking its usual calm firmness. "Matsu… what… who exactly is Issei Hyoudou?"
The question made Matsu freeze.
"…What?" she asked slowly, carefully, looking Miya in the eyes now. "Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"
Miya's fingers clutched the hem of her purple hakama. "He… touched me. On accident. After I chased him and we fell. But when he did, I felt… something."
Matsu's expression softened. "You felt a reaction, didn't you?"
Miya inhaled sharply. "He made me react, Matsu." She admitted, voice cracking ever so slightly. "I didn't even know he could. I thought… I thought he was just a boy. One Uzume brought in. I never sensed anything from him. Not until then."
A long silence stretched between them.
Matsu adjusted her glasses, eyes glinting behind the lenses. "…Took you long enough to figure it out."
Miya's gaze snapped to her. "You knew?"
Matsu nodded.
"You knew, and you didn't tell me?!"
"I knew," Matsu said calmly. "But I also knew if I did tell you, you'd probably have kicked him out before you two even had a chance to form that connection."
"That wasn't your choice to make, Matsu!" Miya snapped, her voice rising for the first time in years. "You don't get to decide something like that for me!"
"I didn't do it to hurt you," Matsu said, her tone unwavering despite the sharp words. "I did it because I'm your friend. Because I care about you."
Miya stared at her, breathing uneven.
"Takehito's been gone for a long time," Matsu said gently. "You've never let anyone close since then. Not really. You've spent all these years hiding behind that smile, taking care of us, protecting this inn, punishing us with your spooky Hannya mask—"
"That's part of the rules Takehito made! This house was important to him!"
"—But you haven't let yourself live, Miya."
Matsu stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I'm not telling you to move on." She said. "But I am telling you that Takehito would want you to be happy. He loved you. Enough to give you the strength to go on living without him. But even you have to admit, you've just been surviving. Not living."
Miya's hands trembled at her sides.
"And then along comes Issei," Matsu continued, voice growing warmer. "This ridiculous, sweet, perverted boy with enough raw power and heart to make even you react."
Matsu paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "I bet he didn't try to wing you. He didn't even know what happened. He just got scared because he thought he hurt you."
Miya remained quiet, but her expression softened.
"I know this is hard," Matsu said gently. "I know what Takehito meant to you. But you have a choice now, Miya. You can stay stuck in the past… or maybe—just maybe—you can see where this road leads."
"…It's not that easy," Miya whispered.
"I know," Matsu replied, nodding. "That's why I'll tell you everything about him. About where he came from, what he's been through. The things he's seen. The way he protects the people he cares about. You deserve to know before you make a decision. I won't force anything. But I won't let you push him away just because you're scared."
Miya looked down at the floor, her long lashes shadowing her eyes. Silence fell between them once more.
Finally, she spoke, her voice almost too quiet to hear. "…Tell me."
Matsu smiled, stepping to her side and gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Of course, Miya. I'll tell you everything."
As the two women stood in the quiet hallway of Izumo Inn, one burdened by the past and the other hoping for the future, the warmth of their shared memories lingered—along with the hope that maybe, just maybe, healing wasn't so impossible after all.
—-----------------------
Miya's room was a quiet, sacred space—a sanctuary of old tatami mats, the subtle scent of incense lingering in the air, and a small but elegant shrine tucked into the corner, where a faded photo of Takehito sat surrounded by delicate paper cranes and dried flowers. The evening light filtered through the paper sliding doors, casting soft shadows across the room as Matsu sat cross-legged on the floor, her usual casual bravado noticeably subdued.
Miya sat opposite her, her posture elegant but tense. A teacup rested untouched in front of her, steam curling up into the air as her sharp violet eyes never left Matsu's face.
"…So," Miya began quietly, "you said you'd explain everything."
Matsu nodded, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Yeah. And it's gonna sound insane. But I need you to believe me. Because this? It's all true."
Miya gave her a patient, if skeptical, look. "I've seen enough insanity in my life, Matsu. Try me."
With a small breath, Matsu began. "Issei… he isn't from this world."
Miya blinked. "You mean… he's an alien? Like us?"
Matsu quickly shook her head. "No, no—he's still human. Just… not from this version of Earth. He comes from a parallel dimension. It's almost identical to ours in terms of culture and history, even similar languages but the difference is… his world is saturated with magic."
Miya narrowed her eyes slightly. "Magic?"
"Yep," Matsu said with a nod. "Magic is real there. Like, really real. People can fly, conjure fire, summon monsters—"
"Monsters?" Miya's voice cut through like a blade.
Matsu's smile faltered, and she scratched the back of her head. "Yeah, about that. So… Issei has one of those. Sort of."
"…Excuse me?"
"Inside him," Matsu clarified, "lives Ddraig. A real dragon. A super ancient, powerful dragon soul bound to Issei's. The Red Dragon Emperor. A being of immense power and pride. He's sealed inside Issei's Sacred Gear, which is like a spiritual weapon tied to his soul. Kind of like… an inner companion, I guess?"
Miya stared, stunned. "You're telling me that boy… that perverted high schooler… has a dragon inside him?"
"I've talked to the dragon, Miya," Matsu said, completely serious now. "He's real. He's loud. And he's very proud of Issei."
Miya's expression tightened. "And this… Ddraig… he's not dangerous?"
Matsu hesitated for half a second. "Okay, I mean, he's technically dangerous. But he's not going to hurt anyone. Not unless he can escape the prison that god made."
"God!!" Miya freaks.
"Ignore that for now and Issei? He's the type who'd rather get punched in the face than punch someone else."
"…That sounds accurate," Miya muttered under her breath.
Matsu continued. "He also has this device—his watch. It's called the Dimensional Watch. It's what brought him here."
Miya's brows furrowed. "The thing on his arm?"
"Yup. It lets him jump between dimensions, with the help of an AI named Sherri. She's the one who guides him, handles coordinates, data, all that technical stuff."
Miya slowly leaned back, processing the information. "So that's what he meant… when I first met him, he said he was only staying for a month."
"Right," Matsu confirmed. "You probably thought he was being flippant or mysterious. But he meant it. In about twenty days, he's going back to his world."
"And he plans to take his Sekirei with him."
Matsu nodded again. "All of us. Me, Uzume, Yashima… we already agreed."
Miya's teacup rattled slightly in its saucer as her fingers trembled. "That's… irresponsible. You're willing to leave everything behind to follow a boy into another world you know nothing about?!"
Matsu shrugged sheepishly. "You make it sound bad when you put it like that."
"Because it is," Miya snapped, standing up. "You don't know what's on the other side! What kind of world it truly is! What dangers await you!"
"There's danger everywhere, Miya," Matsu replied softly, standing to meet her. "Even here."
"That's not the point."
"No, I think it is the point." Matsu's eyes were steady behind her glasses. "We're Sekirei. Our fates are already bound to our Ashikabi. At least this one? He treats us like people, not weapons."
Miya's mouth opened, but no words came.
"You're right," Matsu continued. "It is risky. We don't know everything. But I want to go. I want to see it with my own eyes. I want to experience that world." She paused. "Don't you? Even a little? Don't you ever get curious?"
Miya turned away, the shadows across her face deepening. "Unlike the rest of you, I already know what lies beyond our stars. I know the truth of what's out there."
Matsu's brows lifted. "You do?"
Miya didn't respond right away. Her voice, when it came, was distant. "Horror. Tragedy. War. Countless civilizations rising and falling. Cruelty masked as curiosity. I've seen what's out there, Matsu."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Miya's lips pressed into a thin line. "Curiosity isn't reason enough to gamble your life. I don't want to lose anyone else," Miya finally said, her voice trembling. "Not like I lost Takehito."
Matsu softened. She walked up behind her old friend and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That's not going to happen," she whispered. "Issei's different. He won't leave people behind. He's kind. Protective. Stupidly brave. He jumped between Yashima and an enraged Ashikabi without hesitation. He saved her, just because he thought it was the right thing to do."
"That doesn't mean he understands the consequences," Miya murmured but remained quiet, eyes locked on the fading light outside. "There's more out there than you know. And most of it isn't good."
"I don't doubt it," Matsu replied. "But does that mean we stay here? Hide away? Just exist in a box Minaka built for us?"
Miya's hands tightened. "Minaka may be cruel… but the world out there is worse."
"And still," Matsu said gently, "I want to see it. With him."
She met Miya's eyes.
"You don't have to decide now. We're not asking you to come with us," Matsu said quietly. "But… if you're curious, even just a little, then maybe—just maybe—you're ready to stop looking backward."
Miya's fingers brushed the edge of her shrine, resting on the photo of her late husband. Miya looked down, her expression unreadable.
"…Thank you," She said quietly.
Matsu smiled, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "No matter what you choose," she said, "I'll support you."
And for the first time in a long while, her heart beat with uncertainty. Not fear. Not pain.
Just… the possibility of something new.