Darkness.
That was all he knew.
There was no sound, no ground, no sky — only endless black that swallowed every sense.
Kuhaku floated, weightless, as though his body no longer belonged to him.
How long have I been here…?
He couldn't tell.
Time had lost meaning. It could've been seconds — or centuries.
He tried to move, but his limbs didn't respond. Even thought itself began to blur.
It felt easier to just… drift.
But then—
A hand.
Small, warm, and glowing faintly pink, reaching out from the dark.
He felt its touch — soft, gentle, real.
When he looked up, he saw her:
a silhouette of a girl, bathed in a soft pink light, her form hazy but comforting. Her hair swayed like silk under an unseen breeze.
Her voice echoed, calm and sweet.
"It's okay now. You've done well."
Kuhaku's eyes widened. His throat burned as he tried to speak.
"W-who… are you?"
The girl didn't answer — only smiled, stepping closer until she embraced him.
The warmth that spread through him felt almost… human.
Her whisper brushed his ear, fragile yet powerful.
"Don't give up, okay? Not yet… not ever."
The world around him began to glow, color blooming through the black like dawn breaking.
As her form faded, she whispered one last thing — words that echoed in his heart even after she vanished.
"I'll be waiting… as always."
Then the light swallowed everything.
⸻
Kuhaku gasped awake.
The first thing he heard was the beeping of a monitor.
The first thing he felt was pain — dull, heavy, but real.
And the first thing he saw was white.
A hospital ceiling.
Sterile light.
A faint hum of machines.
His heart pounded in confusion as he sat up, breathing hard.
Sweat clung to his forehead, and his vision swam.
Then — a small voice.
"Onii-chan…?"
He turned.
A familiar face, framed by pink hair and trembling blue eyes.
"Rin…?"
His little sister's lips quivered before she threw herself onto him, hugging him tightly.
Her small hands clutched his hospital gown, her tears soaking into it.
"You're awake! You're really awake!" she cried, voice shaking.
Kuhaku blinked, still dazed — then let out a weak, crooked smile.
"Hey… hey, easy there. You'll drown me before I can say hi."
She only cried harder, her muffled sobs echoing in his chest.
He hesitated, then gently wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.
"I'm here," he whispered softly. "I'm back."
⸻
The door burst open.
"Kuhaku!"
His mother, Aoi, rushed in, followed by his father, Daichi — and behind them, Kiana, Mei, and Bronya.
Aoi froze for half a heartbeat, then broke into tears as she hugged him too tightly to breathe.
"You—! Don't ever do that again! Don't scare us like that!"
Daichi's voice trembled, though he tried to keep it steady.
"Good to see you up, son."
He smiled — tired, but proud.
Kiana leaned against the doorframe, her usual grin shaky but bright.
"Geez… sleeping for a week? You sure know how to make an entrance."
Mei laughed softly, her hands folded together. "We were all worried."
Bronya, as usual, kept her composure — though her eyes glimmered faintly. "Situation… resolved successfully."
Kuhaku laughed weakly. "You guys make it sound like a mission report."
But the moment of laughter felt good.
⸻
When the room finally calmed, Daichi pulled a chair close.
"You've been asleep for seven days," he said, voice low. "The medics found you and the others at the edge of Nagazora after the—"
He stopped himself before saying the word incident.
"The military rescued everyone," he continued. "But… because of what happened, you're all under observation."
"Observation?" Kuhaku frowned.
Daichi nodded. "What you four did — it was beyond anything we've seen. The higher-ups want to understand it."
Kuhaku sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So… we're science experiments now?"
Aoi gave him a look. "Don't say that."
He chuckled softly. "Kidding, kidding."
Then, quieter: "I'm just glad you're all okay."
His mother squeezed his hand. "Because of you."
⸻
Kiana grinned and lifted her leg. "Check it out! Not a scratch!"
Her usual pride was back, but her eyes betrayed the memory of pain.
Mei smiled softly. "We all recovered in a single day. The doctors said it shouldn't have been possible."
"Accelerated regeneration," Bronya added, monotone but thoughtful. "Perhaps connected to… the system."
Kuhaku blinked. "Wait—you're all fine?"
"Yup!" Kiana puffed her chest. "Guess we're special!"
Kuhaku groaned, flopping back onto his pillow. "Great. I save everyone and still end up being the weakest."
That earned a chorus of laughter — light, sincere, cleansing the tension that had clung to them for days.
⸻
Later, Daichi and Aoi stepped out to meet the officers outside.
The room quieted.
Rin rummaged through her bag with excitement.
"Onii-chan, look!"
She held up a Switch.
"You… actually kept it?" Kuhaku blinked, smiling.
"Of course! You said I could borrow it if I didn't break it!" she pouted proudly.
Kiana leaned forward instantly. "Ohhh, is that a challenge I hear?"
Mei chuckled. "You two never stop, do you?"
Bronya was already plugging in a second controller. "Competition improves emotional recovery efficiency."
Kuhaku laughed, watching them gather around his bed like children again.
"Alright, fine. But I'm warning you — I'm unbeatable at this game."
"Bold words," Kiana said, grinning. "Prepare to lose!"
And so, for a little while, laughter replaced screams, and joy replaced thunder.
The red sky, the blood, the destruction — all of it faded behind their smiles.
⸻
As the others continued playing, Kuhaku leaned back, his gaze drifting to the window.
Sunlight spilled gently across the sheets — soft, golden, peaceful.
The sky was clear now. No crimson clouds, no storm.
He smiled faintly. "We made it," he whispered.
And for a fleeting second, a soft pink glow shimmered across the glass — faint, delicate, almost imagined.
He blinked.
It was gone.
Still, he smiled.
"Guess you're still watching, huh…?"
⸻
End of Chapter 1 – Part 17