Morning came, but it didn't feel like morning.
There was no warmth in the light, no sound of life returning, no quiet comfort that usually followed a long night. The sky above Dragonbone Ridge was pale and empty, like it had forgotten what it was supposed to look like.
Yoshiro stirred.
His body felt heavy, like something had been placed on his chest and never removed. When he tried to breathe, a dry cough forced its way out instead, rough and painful. His throat burned, his lungs tight, and for a moment he didn't understand where he was.
Then the smell reached him.
Burned wood.
Ash.
Something worse.
His eyes slowly opened.
The world around him didn't make sense at first. Everything was gray. The ground, the air, the remains of what used to be homes nothing had color anymore. It was as if the entire place had been drained of life, leaving only what was left behind.
He pushed himself up slightly, his hands pressing into the dirt, but it wasn't dirt anymore.
It was ash.
Soft. Cold.
Dead.
Yoshiro's breathing grew uneven as his eyes moved, searching without fully knowing what he was searching for.
"…Akira…"
His voice came out weak.
No answer.
He forced himself to stand, his legs trembling as he took a step forward, then another. His body wasn't ready, but his mind didn't care. Every movement felt heavier than the last, but he kept going, eyes scanning the ruins, the broken remains of everything he knew.
"Akira…?"
Still nothing.
The silence was too loud.
His steps became faster, uneven, almost desperate now as he moved through what used to be their village. The places he recognized were gone. The paths he walked every day didn't exist anymore.
Only destruction.
Only loss.
Then
He saw something.
A shape.
Collapsed near what used to be the edge of their home.
His body froze for a second.
Then he moved.
Faster than before.
He dropped to his knees the moment he reached it, his hands shaking as he reached forward, hesitant for the first time since he woke up.
"…no…"
His voice cracked.
What was in front of him didn't look human anymore.
Burned.
Broken.
Unrecognizable.
And yet
He knew.
He knew immediately.
"…Akira…"
His hands trembled as they touched what remained of her. There was no warmth. No response. Nothing that told him this was still a person.
But to him…
It was still her.
His vision blurred, tears falling before he could stop them.
"…no…"
He shook his head slowly, like denying it would change something.
"No… no, no…"
His voice rose, breaking apart as the reality settled deeper into him.
"NO!"
The scream tore through the empty village, echoing against nothing, swallowed by the silence that followed.
His hands tightened, gripping what was left of her as if he could hold her together, as if he could undo what had already been done.
"I was right there… I was there…"
His breathing became unstable, his words barely forming between the weight of everything hitting him at once.
"…I should've… I should've…"
There was no ending to that sentence.
Because nothing he said could change it.
He lowered his head, his forehead pressing gently against her, uncaring of the ash, the burns, the reality of what she had become.
To him
She was still the same.
His Akira.
"…you're still beautiful…"
The words came out quietly, almost like a whisper meant only for her.
"I don't care… I don't care what they did… you're still…"
His voice broke again.
"…you're still you."
His hand moved carefully, brushing against her as if she could still feel it, as if she was just asleep and needed to be treated gently.
He leaned forward.
And kissed her.
There was no hesitation.
No disgust.
No fear.
Only love.
When he pulled back, his expression didn't change. If anything, it softened more, even as tears continued to fall.
"…I'm sorry…"
He didn't know what to do.
There was no next step.
No one to tell him what came after this.
So he stayed.
That day.
The next.
And the next.
Time lost meaning.
The sun rose and fell, but Yoshiro didn't move from her side. He didn't leave. He didn't eat. He barely spoke.
He just stayed.
Holding onto what was left.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
The body in front of him changed.
Slowly.
Until it wasn't a body anymore.
Just bones.
Fragments.
Something anyone else would have buried or left behind.
But not him.
He never looked away.
Not once.
Because to him…
She was still there.
Even when the world had already erased her.
One night, as the sky stretched endlessly above him, Yoshiro finally looked up.
His eyes were hollow now.
Not empty.
Broken.
"…why…"
The word barely left his lips.
There was no answer.
Only silence.
His gaze hardened slowly, something shifting deep inside him, something that had been building with every passing day.
"…you saw everything…"
His voice was quieter now, but heavier.
"You watched… and you did nothing…"
His hands clenched slightly.
"…so what kind of god does that make you?"
There was no hesitation anymore.
No confusion.
Only one direction.
"…if you won't give her back…"
His eyes darkened.
"…then I'll take everything from you."
That was the moment he changed.
Not suddenly.
Not loudly.
But completely.
The man who lived in that village died that night.
What remained…
Was something else.
The present returned like a snap.
The battlefield.
The broken ground.
The exhausted figures standing in front of him.
Yoshiro stood there, unmoving.
But now
There were tears in his eyes.
Fresh.
Real.
Not from rage.
From memory.
His gaze shifted slowly, landing on Yura… then Kairo.
For a moment, he didn't see enemies.
He saw something else.
Something familiar.
Something he once had.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"…you two…"
His voice was softer than they had ever heard before.
"…don't lose it."
The wind moved gently through the ruined land, carrying ash into the air around him.
"I thought… if I erased everything… if I reached them…"
His eyes trembled slightly.
"…they would give her back to me."
Silence followed.
Then
"…but I was wrong."
His smile didn't disappear.
It just became sadder.
"I destroyed people who had nothing to do with it… called it justice… called it love…"
He let out a quiet breath.
"…what a joke."
His body began to break.
Not violently.
Not painfully.
Just… fading.
Like ash being carried away by the wind.
"…Akira…"
His voice softened one last time.
"I'm coming… but not as the man you loved."
His eyes closed slowly.
"…I'm sorry."
The particles of his body scattered into the air, dissolving piece by piece until nothing solid remained.
No sound.
No resistance.
Just disappearance.
Ashes drifted through the air where he once stood.
And then
Silence.