Kanesaki didn't bother turning the light on.
The dim glow from the corridor slipped in just enough before the door shut behind him, leaving the room in a soft, muted half-dark that felt quieter than anything else he had experienced that day.
He moved without thinking, unstrapping what remained of his gear and letting it fall loosely near the wall before crossing to the bed. The moment he sat down, the exhaustion hit properly – not sharp, not overwhelming, just heavy. The kind that settled into bone and refused to move.
He leaned back, letting himself fall the rest of the way.
For a moment, he just laid there, staring up at the ceiling.
The faint hum of the sanctuary's generators rolled through the walls, steady and constant. Somewhere further down the hall, he could hear movement – distant footsteps, Yasuko rummaging through something with far too much energy for someone who had just nearly died, the soft murmur of voices blending into something almost normal.
Normal.
That word didn't feel right anymore.
Eight months.
He let the number sit in his mind for a second. Eight months since the cave. Eight months since everything had broken and reformed into something else entirely.
It hadn't felt like eight months.
Some days it felt longer – like an entire life lived in fragments. Other days it felt like no time had passed at all, like he could still turn around and find himself back in uniform, back in formation, back in a world that made sense.
But that world didn't exist anymore.
Not for him, or for Yasuko.
"Rogues."
He exhaled slowly, one arm resting across his eyes.
The word had weight to it, it always had.
Back then, it had meant something distant, dangerous. Something to hunt, to fear, to eliminate before it became a problem.
Now it was just what they were.
And somehow, over time, it had stopped feeling temporary.
The sanctuary had done that – not all at once, but gradually.
Sho's dry comments in the middle of tense moments. Mitsuko's constant noise and movement in the garage. Katsumi pretending not to care about anything while always being exactly where he needed to be. Asami watching everything like she already knew how things would end.
And Ryuu–
Kanesaki shifted slightly, staring up at nothing.
Ryuu was still something else, but even that had started to make sense in its own way.
Eight months.
Enough time to stop thinking about leaving every single day. Enough time for staying to stop feeling like a mistake.
A loud knock shattered the quiet.
Then the door opened immediately after, without waiting for permission.
Yasuko.
'You're not dead in here, right?'
Kanesaki didn't move. 'No.'
She stepped inside anyway, already holding a plate in one hand.
'Good. Then eat.'
Kanesaki turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at her.
'Not hungry.'
Yasuko froze for half a second, her eyes narrowing.
'That's not how this works.'
'I'm tired.'
'Cool,' she said, stepping further into the room. 'You can be tired and eat. Crazy concept, I'm sure.'
Kanesaki let out a quiet breath and closed his eyes again. 'I'll eat later.'
There was a pause.
Then the sound of her setting the plate down – hard.
'No, you won't,' Yasuko said.
Kanesaki didn't respond.
He heard her footsteps move closer instead.
'Get up.'
'No.'
Another pause.
Then–
'Get. Up.'
Kanesaki cracked one eye open.
Yasuko was standing over him now, arms crossed, looking significantly more awake than she had any right to be. There was a stubbornness in her expression that he recognised immediately, the kind that didn't go away.
'I said I'm not hungry,' he repeated.
Yasuko leaned down slightly, her voice dropping just enough to make it sound more like a threat than a suggestion.
'You are going to eat,' she said, 'before I get hungry again and decide I want your portion too.'
Kanesaki stared at her for a second and sighed. Slowly, reluctantly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows.
'That's not a real reason.'
'It doesn't have to be,' she shot back instantly.
He sat up properly this time, running a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the plate she had brought.
'You're annoying,' he muttered.
Yasuko smirked slightly, stepping back just enough to give him space.
'Yeah,' she said. 'And you're eating. So it worked.'
Kanesaki picked up the plate without further argument.
Yasuko watched him for a second, satisfied.
'Hurry up before I start wanting seconds,' she added.
Kanesaki looked down at the food in his hands.
Then, after a moment–
He started eating.
Yasuko smiled briefly, slowly moving to the door, shutting it quietly from everyone else, all the hassle.
The living area had settled into something quieter by the time the others regrouped.
The low flicker of the television painted the room in shifting light, colours dancing across the worn walls and mismatched furniture. Some old broadcast played – half static, half signal – voices cutting in and out beneath the steady hum of the sanctuary's generators.
Asami had claimed one end of the couch, sitting back with one arm draped lazily over the side, her posture relaxed but her eyes still sharp beneath it. Sho sat at the other end, leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the screen more out of habit than interest.
Mitsuko, as always, had taken the floor.
She lay on her stomach near the table, chin propped in her hands, legs idly kicking in the air behind her as she watched the screen with quiet focus. It wasn't uncomfortable for her – not even close. If anything, she looked more at ease there than anywhere else.
In the kitchen area just behind them, Katsumi sat sideways on a stool, one foot hooked lazily around its leg as he tipped a can back for another drink. The metal clicked softly as he set it down again, glancing over his shoulder.
Ryuu stood behind the counter, sleeves slightly rolled, working in silence.
The knife in his hand moved with clean, efficient precision – each cut deliberate, controlled, almost surgical. Ingredients shifted under his hands without hesitation, everything measured without needing to be measured.
Katsumi watched for a second longer, then smirked.
'You know,' he said, tilting his head slightly, 'Your knife work has really improved. Honestly, chopping people up really does have its positives.'
There was a brief pause.
Ryuu didn't stop what he was doing.
'It's the same principle,' he replied flatly.
Katsumi let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he reached for his drink again.
'Yeah, that tracks.'
For a moment, that was it.
Then – just barely – Ryuu's expression shifted.
Not muchz but enough.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared again into the usual stillness.
Time passed like that – quiet, steady, almost normal. Until finally, Ryuu set the knife down.
'Food's ready.'
Asami didn't move at first, eyes still on the screen, then she glanced toward Sho.
'Go get the other two.'
Sho let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face before pushing himself up from the couch.
'Yeah, yeah.'
He stretched once, rolling his shoulders as he turned toward the hallway.
'If they've passed out, I'm not carrying them.'
'You say that like you haven't before,' Katsumi muttered.
Sho didn't answer, already disappearing down the corridor.
The door to Kanesaki's room was shut.
Sho stopped in front of it, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something. For a second, there was nothing but the low hum of the sanctuary.
Inside, the room had gone quiet again.
Kanesaki sat at the edge of the bed now, the empty plate set aside, his posture still slightly tense despite the rest. Yasuko sat relaxingly on his lap, arms rested on his shoulders – but her eyes hadn't left him.
'You're still stiff,' she said.
Kanesaki frowned slightly. 'I'm not.'
'You are.'
'I'm not.'
Yasuko stepped closer.
'You are,' she repeated, quieter this time. 'It's like you're waiting for me to swing at you.'
Kanesaki didn't answer.
She watched him for a second longer, reaching up.
Her hands came to rest lightly near his neck – not gripping, not forcing anything – just there, steady. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of them, the faint pressure grounding him in place.
'Relax,' she said.
Kanesaki exhaled slowly.
His shoulders dropped, just slightly.
Their breathing settled into the same rhythm without either of them noticing at first. The space between them narrowed, not deliberately, just naturally – until it felt smaller, quieter.
Still.
Then–
BANG BANG BANG
The door rattled under the force of it.
'Dinner's ready!' Sho's voice cut through from the other side, loud and deliberate. 'Unless you two plan on starving in there!'
Yasuko jerked back instantly, eyes narrowing toward the door.
Kanesaki blinked once, the moment snapping clean in half.
There was a brief silence.
Then Yasuko scoffed under her breath.
'Unbelievable.'
Sho knocked louder.
'Five seconds before I come in!'
Kanesaki waited for Yasuko to get up, then stood and grabbed the finished plate from earlier.
'He's doing that on purpose.'
Yasuko rolled her eyes, already moving toward the exit.
'Yeah,' she said. 'And if we don't go, he'll get worse.'
Another heavy knock.
'Three seconds!' Sho called.
Yasuko yanked the door open before he could continue.
'We're coming, idiot.'
Sho stood there, hand still raised mid-knock, completely unfazed.
'Took you long enough,' he said.
Yasuko shoved past him.
Kanesaki followed a second later, shaking his head slightly.
Behind them, the door clicked shut.
The night settled gradually over the sanctuary, not all at once, but in quiet layers.
Dinner had come and gone in the usual blur of noise and small arguments, the kind that meant nothing and everything at the same time. By the time the plates were cleared and the last of the food packed away, the energy that had carried them through the evening began to fade.
Mitsuko stretched first, arms raised high above her head as she let out a long yawn.
'Alright… I'm done,' she muttered, pushing herself up from the floor. 'If I stay awake any longer, I'm gonna fall asleep right here again.'
Katsumi snorted softly from his stool, finishing off the last of his drink before hopping down.
'You say that like it's a bad thing.'
'It is when you leave me there all night,' she shot back, already heading toward the elevator. 'Come on, I'm not walking up there alone.'
Katsumi rolled his eyes but followed anyway, tossing the empty can aside as he moved.
'Yeah, yeah.'
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, swallowing the two of them as they stepped inside. Mitsuko leaned back against the wall almost immediately, already half-gone, while Katsumi shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing upward as the doors closed.
The lift carried them up toward the top level, where the garage was, toward their rooms carved into the structure above.
Below, the sanctuary quieted further.
Asami had already disappeared not long after dinner, retreating to her room without much more than a passing comment about needing sleep. By now, her door was shut, the light beneath it gone.
That left Ryuu and Sho. The two of them worked in silence.
Sho gathered the last of the plates and containers, stacking them neatly before carrying them toward the kitchen. Ryuu wiped down the table, movements steady and efficient, clearing away any trace of the evening like it had never happened.
There was no conversation between them, none needed.
By the time they finished, the living area looked almost untouched again – calm, still, waiting for the next day to fill it back up.
Sho exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulder once.
'That's enough.'
Ryuu nodded faintly, setting the cloth aside.
They didn't linger.
The lights dimmed further as they split off down the hallway, each disappearing into their own room, the sanctuary finally settling into true quiet.
In Kanesaki's room, the light was low.
Barely more than a faint glow from the wall, just enough to soften the edges of the space without fully illuminating it.
Kanesaki lay still, eyes closed, one arm resting loosely around Yasuko.
She lay in front of him, her back to his chest, hair down for once – dark strands spilling across the pillow and brushing lightly against his arm. Without the usual ties and movement, it fell naturally, softer, quieter.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't empty.
Just calm.
Then–
'I'm cold,' Yasuko murmured.
Kanesaki shifted slightly behind her.
Her hand found his arm without looking, pulling it more firmly around her waist until it rested properly there, anchoring him in place.
He didn't resist, just adjusted, settling closer.
'Better?' he asked quietly.
'A bit,' she replied.
There was a pause.
Then, after a second, she spoke again.
'You're warm.'
Kanesaki huffed faintly under his breath.
Yasuko smirked slightly, her voice softer now, teasing but quieter than usual.
'You been working out or something?'
Kanesaki opened his eyes slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting just a fraction.
'No.'
'Liar.'
He didn't argue.
Instead, he shifted just enough to rest his chin lightly against her shoulder, the contact subtle but grounding.
Yasuko stilled for a second at that, relaxing again.
Kanesaki leaned forward just slightly, pressing a small, quiet kiss against her cheek.
It wasn't dramatic, just there.
Yasuko didn't turn, but the faintest hint of a smile touched her expression.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Kanesaki exhaled softly.
'We should probably get some sleep.'
Yasuko nodded once, eyes already half-closed.
'Yeah… probably.'
The room fell quiet again.
The hum of the sanctuary carried on around them, steady and distant, as the last of the night settled in.
And this time, neither of them stayed awake for long.
Chapter 76 – end