The afternoon sun was warm, but not oppressive.
Hiro sat on the porch, his back against a wooden pillar, a training manual open in his lap. He wasn't really reading, his mind kept drifting to the garden. To Marian. To the way her pinky had touched his.
She's different, he thought. Not like Daisy. Not like Elira. She laughs, but she's sad. She teases, but she's careful.
He didn't understand her. But he wanted to.
---
Footsteps approached.
Elira sat down beside him, her bandaged eye catching the light. She didn't speak—just stared at the garden.
"You're quiet," Hiro said.
"So are you."
"I was thinking."
"Dangerous habit."
He snorted. "Elira, can I ask you something?"
"You're going to anyway."
"Marian. What's her story?"
Elira was silent for a long moment.
"She was a princess candidate," Elira said finally. "Five-star soldier. Her family—the Urahames are old money. Old expectations."
"What happened?"
"She couldn't form a slave contract." Elira's voice was flat. "In their eyes, that made her useless."
Hiro's chest tightened. "They disowned her?"
"Publicly. She tried to prove them wrong. Took on a Class Four horde alone."
He remembered Marian's story—the one she'd told him weeks ago. But hearing it from Elira made it feel more real. More painful.
"Is that when she met Yurei?"
Elira nodded. "Barely alive. Surrounded. Yurei carved through the horde like it was nothing."
She paused, her visible eye distant.
"She's never said it, but I think that's when she stopped believing in herself."
"But she's still here. Still fighting."
"Because Yurei gave her a reason to." Elira looked at him. "You might be another one."
"Me?"
"You're reckless. You're stubborn. You remind her of who she used to be." Elira's voice was soft, almost reluctant. "She watches you, Hiro. When she thinks no one is looking."
Hiro's throat tightened. "Elira—"
"I'm not telling you this to make you uncomfortable." She stood. "I'm telling you because she's been broken enough. Don't make it worse."
She walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
---
That evening, Yurei called a meeting.
The unit gathered in the living room—Daisy on the couch, Elira in the corner, Bailey at the table, Marian by the window.
Hiro sat on the floor, his back against the wall.
Yurei stood at the front, her arms crossed.
"The next base is the Creepy Goth Base," she announced. "Elira will accompany us. The rest of you will stay here."
Daisy scowled. "Why Elira?"
"Because the one of soldiers there has a possession-based blessing. Elira's Hunter's Eye is the best counter." Yurei's voice was calm. "And because Elira needs to face her past."
Elira stiffened. "My past?"
"The base is in the city where your sister was hospitalized."
The room went silent.
Elira's visible eye narrowed. "You planned this."
"I planned for you to have closure." Yurei met her gaze. "Whether you take it is up to you."
Elira was silent for a long moment. Her hands, resting on her knees, curled into fists. Then, slowly, they relaxed.
"Fine," she said.
Yurei nodded. "Good. We leave tomorrow."
---
Later on during the night, Hiro lay in his bed beside Yurei, staring at the ceiling.
His mind was too full to sleep.
The Doghouse. Beatrice. Scott. The Nine Gates.
Marian. Her pinky against his. Her trembling hands. Her voice when she said "You don't know me."
Yurei. Her calm, her certainty, her steady presence.
I'm not the same person who left this base two weeks ago, he thought. I'm stronger. I'm faster. I'm... something else.
He touched the chain tattoo on his neck. It pulsed gently, warm, alive.
We're connected, he thought. All of us. Yurei. Marian. Daisy. Elira. Bailey.
Family.
He closed his eyes.
Any day now, they would leave again and the road would begin.
But tonight—tonight he rested.