The path back to central Sina felt longer than it should have.
The Dome of Safety loomed ahead, its curved glass reflecting the dying orange of the sunset, making the whole city look like it was burning from the inside. Yagami walked between Haruka and Yuri, his arm still around her waist to support her—even though her hand had healed completely. She hadn't pulled away, and he hadn't let go.
Neither of them spoke about it.
Yuri kept glancing back, as if expecting the tree to follow them. "That thing… it healed you. Both of you. And it spoke. In our heads. That's not normal, right?"
Haruka's voice was quiet. "My father always said the old legends were just stories to keep people afraid. But… I felt it. Like something inside me woke up when my blood touched the bark."
Yagami's fingers brushed the red scarf at his neck. It was still warm, even now. "I saw things. A boy with green eyes. A girl with this scarf. Walls falling. And then… nothing. Just a tree. And a kid walking toward it with a dog."
Haruka looked up at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "You think it's connected? To Eren Yeager?"
"I don't know what to think," he admitted. "But when that… voice said 'The Fourth Path opens,' it felt like it was talking to me. To us."
They reached the edge of the dome. Guards in black uniforms stood at the entrance checkpoint, scanning IDs with handheld devices. One of them raised an eyebrow at Haruka's torn sleeve and the dried blood on her clothes.
"Miss Fritz? What happened?"
Haruka straightened, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Just an accident while playing. Nothing serious."
The guard looked at Yagami and Yuri for a long second, then waved them through. "Be careful out there. Reports of strange lights in Maria. Could be Marley scouts."
Inside the dome, the city lights flickered to life—neon signs, hovering advertisements, cars gliding silently on magnetic roads. It should have felt safe. It didn't.
They walked in silence until they reached the residential block where Yagami and Minato lived. Haruka stopped at the corner.
"I should go home," she said softly. "Father will be worried."
Yagami hesitated. "Your hand…"
"It's fine now." She lifted it, flexing her fingers. No scar. No pain. "Thanks to… whatever that was."
Yuri cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'll walk her the rest of the way. Make sure no one else jumps us."
Yagami nodded, but his eyes stayed on Haruka.
She stepped closer—close enough that he could smell the faint scent of grass and blood on her clothes.
"Yagami," she whispered, so Yuri wouldn't hear. "Whatever happened under that tree… it felt like it was waiting for us. For me. For you."
He swallowed. "I know."
She reached up and touched the red scarf lightly, her fingers brushing his neck.
"Don't take it off," she said. "Not yet."
Then she turned and walked away with Yuri, her blonde hair catching the artificial light like a halo.
Yagami stood there until they disappeared around the corner.
He didn't move for a long time.
When he finally entered the small apartment he shared with Minato, the old man was already half-drunk, sprawled on the couch with a bottle in one hand and a faded photograph in the other.
"You're late, kid," Minato slurred, not looking up. "And you look like you've seen a ghost."
Yagami dropped onto the chair opposite him. "Grandpa… tell me about the tree again. The one in Maria. The real story. Not the drunk version."
Minato laughed—a dry, bitter sound.
"The real story?" He lifted the photograph. It showed a younger Minato standing beside a woman Yagami had never met—his grandmother, maybe. Both wearing red scarves.
"That tree wasn't always there," Minato said quietly. "It grew after the last big war. After the Rumbling ended. People said it sprouted where Eren Yeager's head was buried. Where Mikasa buried him."
Yagami's hand went to his scarf again.
Minato's eyes narrowed. "And people who bleed on it… they change. Some come back stronger. Some don't come back at all. Why do you ask, boy?"
Yagami met his grandfather's gaze.
"Because Haruka bled on it today. And I touched it. And something spoke to us."
Minato stared at him for a long time.
Then he laughed again—this time softer, almost sad.
"So it begins again."
He set the bottle down.
"Tomorrow," he said. "We talk properly. No liquor. No stories. The truth."
Yagami nodded slowly.
Outside, the dome lights flickered.
Somewhere far away, in southern Maria, a tree waited.
And something inside it pulsed once more—patient, hungry, alive.
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