"Are you… pitying me?" she whispered, nails biting so deep into her palms that blood dotted the ash.
Sogetsu shook his head. He shrugged off his white outer robe—torn, soot-smudged—and gently draped it over her shoulders, covering what needed covering without a word.
Something small and bright cracked in the dark inside her. She looked down, fists tightening around the loose sleeves. His scent—clean, faintly herbal—threaded through smoke.
When his hand moved to tidy the hair at her temple, she flinched, pushing him back by reflex. "Don't. I don't need your… charity."
To Sogetsu, she seemed like a drenched alley cat: back arched, fur puffed, all hiss and no home.
He smiled a little. "I won't tell you to forgive anyone. I don't get to. I didn't live your years underground." His voice stayed even. "If you choose revenge on Uchiha or on Konoha—I won't stop you. That choice is yours."
"If the world is wrong," he added, "fix it."
Her lips trembled. "You won't try to save me from being… a monster?"
"Why would I deny you the only agency you were ever given?" Sogetsu asked. "If I urged 'let go,' who pays for the decades you spent sealed and alone?"
Silence, raw and complicated.
"What will you do with me, then?" she asked finally. "You've seen my Mangekyō. You know its value."
Sogetsu chuckled softly. "Do with you? From now on, you're free. No one decides your future."
"Free…" The word felt strange in her mouth.
"Free," he repeated. "Bathe. Clothes. Food. Walk a city at night. Watch lanterns. Or turn around and hunt old ghosts. It's your road."
"Aren't you afraid of me?" she blurted. "My technique—Eight-Thorn Mark—I can brand minds and steer them. I could just… take you."
"On the mind," Sogetsu said, "I'm hard to rewrite."
He left it there. He didn't boast. He didn't need to.
Her eyes drifted to her hands. "I… don't even know what I want."
"Start small," Sogetsu said after a beat. "Hot water. New clothes. Something sweet from a stall. Then see."
Her gaze flicked up, almost shy. "Could I… do anything? Even… that thing you said before… love?"
"If you want," he said, teasing gently. "Even that."
She stared at him—at the steadiness in his face, at the warmth that made the cold inside her loosen by degrees. If she had never seen the sun, the dark would have been survivable. But now…
"Can I come with you?" she asked, voice shrinking to the size of a thread. Her fingers pinched his sleeve, as if it might vanish.
Sogetsu read the plea there—the hunger for a handhold. After a moment, he nodded. "All right."
(Exactly as he'd predicted: those who most crave rescue are the easiest to anchor—and to guide.)
She swallowed. "L—Light."
"Hm?"
"My name." Tears spilled without permission, clean tracks on a face that had forgotten how to cry. "My name is Uchiha Hikari."
Sogetsu's smile reached his eyes. "Then let's get you a bath, Hikari."
And for the first time, the night over the forest seemed a shade less black.
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