20 February 2019, 15:02 — Wednesday, Minami Ward, Sakai, Osaka
The door slid open. Akane stepped in, his gaze instinctively sweeping across the room, a habit he hadn't shed even after he had been reborn.
The apartment stood quietly at the edge of the city's rhythm, close enough to hear the faint hum of traffic, yet far enough to let silence breathe between the walls.
Seven floors above ground, it overlooked a scattering of rooftops and roads that shimmered under the afternoon light.
The building belonged entirely to his aunt, though Akane suspected that detail mattered less than the view before him.
On the left stretched a broad double-height window, glass clear and alive with light.
Through it, the world unfolded: pedestrians, a few cars meandering by, the station's distant silhouette, a park wrapped in faint winter green.
It was the kind of view that could steady a restless heart, one glance at a time.
He thought idly that this place couldn't have come cheap. But he let that thought drift away. Some things weren't meant to be measured in numbers.
The right side of the room revealed the structure: two floors. Below, a kitchen and bathroom open into a spacious living and dining area. Above, a soft echo hinted at three or five bedrooms; he couldn't quite tell.
Akane nodded to himself again and again, as if silently approving an unseen architect.
The faint tinge of red still lingered on his eyes, but for once, it came not from anger or strain, only quiet admiration.
Riscia, watching him from the side, caught that look and smiled softly.
"How is it? You seem to like it. From now on, this is your place, your new life," she said, nudging his arm playfully.
"Well, I'm satisfied again, nee-chan. Really… thank you. I don't even know how to repay you."
His voice was light, yet honest, the kind of tone that carried both loss and gratitude.
Riscia waved him off. "Now, now. Since it was all sudden, I didn't get the time to prepare your room. You'll have to wait a bit, okay?"
She guided Akane toward the sofa and said, "Sit here for a while. I'll go upstairs."
He nodded, lowering himself into the seat as she disappeared between the steps.
For a moment, silence returned. The faint hum of the city seeped through the glass, and Akane reached for the remote, switching on the TV just to fill the air with something human.
---
Minutes passed. Fatigue crept in, blurring the edges of thought. His eyelids began to droop.
Then, a knock.
His body reacted before his mind did, snapping awake in an instant.
His gaze turned toward the door. The silence between each heartbeat felt heavier than sound.
Countless possibilities flickered through his thoughts, and yet, as if realizing something, he smiled faintly, the tension fading from his posture.
He waited. Quietly.
Then came the voice.
"We're home!"
"I'm home!"
The door opened, footsteps echoing softly against the floor. Two figures entered, a boy and a girl, until their eyes met the one seated in the living room.
They froze.
That familiar face. The grin. The unmistakable sense of warmth and chaos that only one person could carry.
"Well, welcome home, Aniki. Irina-chan." Akane's grin deepened, cheeky, defiant, and real. His vision trembled faintly red at the depth, yet his heart, for once, was steady.
The malice of red from Maroon Door for once just being silent, no longer rioting, as if it is settled for something.
Ayato — his twin — stood at the doorway, dark hair catching the light, pale skin and sky-blue eyes mirroring their mother's. A small mole beneath his right eye, and an expression caught somewhere between disbelief and relief.
Irina — bright-haired, with eyes wide as the afternoon sun touched her silver strands, took a step forward. Then another. Her left hand clutched her chest, while the other, as if in disbelief, reached towards Akane.
"Aka-nii? Is that… really you?"
Before Akane could reply, she ran, tears brimming, arms flung around him, crashing them both into the sofa's backrest.
"Calm down, you little rascal! Of course it's me! Who else could it be?"
Akane laughed, returning the embrace, ruffling her hair, his hand trembling only slightly.
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" he whispered to her, and to himself.
He looked up.
Ayato still hadn't moved, still staring like he was afraid the moment might vanish if he blinked.
"What are you standing there for, stupid brother? Don't you miss me?"
And that was enough.
Ayato stepped forward, fast, almost stumbling, and they met halfway in a wordless hug.
The years folded in on themselves, and for a few minutes, neither of them spoke, just breathed, and cried, quietly, like the world outside had stopped spinning just for them.
Riscia, standing above from the top floor, had already noticed the moment the door opened. Now she simply leaned against the railing, smiling through blurred vision.
Watching them like that and hearing those familiar voices again, something in her chest is released.
The weight she didn't realize she carried finally began to dissolve.
The afternoon light, fractured through the tall window, painted the room in a dance of gold and shadow.
And for the first time in a long while — it felt like home.