Shun

  I was standing just outside Rachael’s flower shop, the morning air crisp enough to make the faint curls of steam rise from my breath. The sky hung low, pale blue with streaks of silver, the kind of London morning that felt more like a sigh than a start.

  My hands tucked into the pockets of my coat, my body covered in layers to cut out the cold that was growing worse by the day.

  It was a quiet morning, but everything felt anything but quiet. I felt this uncertainty crawl up my spine, whether I had made the right decision or not, to ask Rachael to accompany me back home.

  The conversation we just had days prior from today felt surreal for some reason. The way I had shown Rachael a part of me—my vulnerability, my sorrow, a wound that I had let bleed for so long, and finally Rachael seemed like the balm that finally stopped it.

  I kept thinking for the past few days whether I made the right decision or not. I kept thinking, and thinking about it...but at the end, the only conclusion that I came to was...

  I wanted her to stay. I wanted her to see this part of me, accept me. I was afraid that if I kept her at arms reach, she would disappear like all the others.

  Some part of me still did. I was afraid of being the subject of her loathe, her fear, her disgust. But, I was more afraid of letting her go, I wanted to hold her close, I didn’t want to push her away, I wanted to change for once.

  The way I had asked her so abruptly to join me—a stupid, impulsive mistake I had made, letting my emotions cloud my judgement and push something like this on her.

  I sighed out of habit, knowing that I couldn’t change what I had done.

  But, knowing Rachael, she had taken me up on my offer. She anchored me in that moment when I should have done that for her. She was mourning on her mother’s anniversary, and somehow I had been stupid enough to let that moment be taken from her.

  I leaned my head against the glass window outside the shop, feeling the frost lurch on my skin, as I breathed heavily, releasing a sigh as steam curled from my breath.

  But, I hadn’t thought it thoroughly enough, when I asked her to come along with me. It was like I had done it on impulse, but after gathering my thoughts and realising what I had done, I felt stupid.

  I had asked her to join me because I felt lonely that I wouldn’t be able to see her the time I took to visit Fujimoto.

  So, in that state of vulnerability and emotional support, I just asked her.

  But after realising the way I had asked her, it was totally like a confession!!! I didn’t reject not having feelings for her, but, it just felt so out of picture for me to do something like this.

  And somehow, Rachael was perceptive of these things, more than I could give her credit for. And, she must have thought otherwise, despite my impulsive request.

  But after thinking about it, she had accepted my request to tag along, and the only conclusion I could come to was...

  If Rachael shared the same feelings as me, then...

  I couldn’t say it...not yet.

  My gaze locked on the window in front of me—more precisely, at her.

  Through the window, I could see her moving between rows of freshly cut lilies and hydrangeas, sleeves rolled up, her hair tied loosely as sunlight brushed against her face.

  The slightest shift of her movements set her aside from all the other things, like I was seeing something extraordinary. The way she cared for her flowers, the way she took each step with purpose to nurture the plants into their full potential.

  I liked seeing that. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as I realised I was smiling.

  I thought I had grown accustomed to her appearance already, fully immersed in her trade, but no, each time I looked at her, I came to find something new about her, something fresh, something that made me realise that I can’t read a person one-sidedly and consider it to be the truth.

  Maybe, pain wasn’t the absence of strength. Maybe it was a reminder that something in me still cared enough to hurt.

  I touched the glass window from outside, looking at her glide effortlessly from customer to customer, as Asteria checked them out at the register and a few already bustled out as few more came in.

  For a second, I just stood there—watching. Not in some dramatic, love-struck way, but in that quiet kind of stillness you get when everything feels…right. Like the world was briefly in sync.

  She was still busy, more busy than I had first thought.

  Rachael had told me to pick her up at ten O’clock, and the clock was still ticking but I had come half an hour early.

  But, just as I turned to walk closer to the door, I felt a sharp gaze from behind, burying holes into my back.

  I looked above my shoulder and turned, finally registering the individual who was giving me a look of curiosity and perplexity all the same.

  I couldn’t tell whether she was offended or just giving me a look that communicated: ‘are you planning to go inside or just stare at her through the window, creep?’

  I coughed dryly, feeling embarrassed for some reason as I saw the short woman with brunette hair walk closer to me in a one clean step.

  Her eyes looked up at me—like a toddler trying to get a better look, but she wasn’t that short, maybe a little shorter than Rachael who was a head shorter than me.

  Then suddenly, her face bloomed with recognition of something, her eyes seem to bulge open as her face moved in mild surprise like she had found something interesting to poke at.

  “Wait, you’re the indifferent mastery-emo guy Rachael told me about?” She said, pointing a finger at me like she was stating the obvious.

  My brows furrowed in confusion, looking at her with an expression that conveyed perplex.

  ‘What?’ I thought in this situation, not knowing what to do. I needed to answer this woman, but somehow, I couldn’t rebut her.

  Not because I couldn’t, but because of this ridiculous situation, and even how ridiculously she had asked me that question.

  But, who was she?

  Before I could say anything, she stepped forward and opened the door of the shop, the bell above it chiming lightly, standing just in front of the entrance.

  “Well, are you coming in or not? I don’t mind if you want to freeze to your death?” She said, her tone flat. But her face came a little bit closer, her thumb pointed to the inside of the shop. “But, someone would be really sad if that really happened, you know.” She gave me a sly smile, her grin growing wider as her tone came out flat but tinged with humour.

  I felt my brows arch further as I followed the short woman inside, her face still pulled by the same grin as she tethered slower to the counter where Madam Asteria was sitting by the register.

  I entered the shop and my eyes laid on Rachael, my feet stopped mid-step, my eyes locked entirely on her as everything else blurred into the backdrop.

  When she finally noticed me, she smiled—that warm, unhurried smile of hers that could turn even the dullest day soft. “You’re early,” she said as she pushed a vase to the side and pulled out a wild bud sticking out of another pot.

  I felt my hand going to the back of my neck—my usual response when I was awkward or embarrassed—realising I had been looking at her so blatantly.

  She took a step forward in my direction and I answered. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” I said, my words came out honest, a smile tugging at my lips.

  Rachael seem to read the room and didn’t pry any further. Her figure standing in front of me, looking up at me, her sincere smile, warm gaze and the subtle gestures she made to let the other person know she cared.

  “Kh-hm!”

  But just as I was about to say something, I heard a dry cough come from the front of the shop.

  Both of us looked ahead and the short woman was talking with Asteria in a hysterical and sly manner. Her elbows rested on the counter as she looked between us and Asteria.

  “Aunt Asteria, what did I tell you?” The short woman said, voice dripping with theatrical disappointment.

  “Some people’s public perception is completely reversed. No shame. No restraint. Boldly flirting at this hour of the morning.” She shook her head, shrugging.

  Asteria pressed a hand to her mouth, shoulders trembling with obvious laughter that she did are best to suppress.

  “Oh come now,” she said, her eyes gleaming, “a little romance before breakfast is good for the heart, Alisa dear.”

  The brunette Alisa clicked her tongue dramatically, her expression a mix of teasing and frustration.

  “Good for the heart? Auntie, please. They weren’t just flirting—they were radiating enough heat to wilt the hydrangeas.” She said in just, her face inclined in our direction as she rose a brow with a face full of playful irk.

  Asteria nodded in mock seriousness.

  “True. I did feel a breeze of…emotional intensity.” Her smile widened slightly.

  “Emotional intensity?” Alisa repeated, eyes narrowing. “More like ‘please look away before I suffocate from second-hand affection.’” She breathed a long sigh.

  Asteria burst into full laughter until tears welled in her eyes.

  Behind me, I heard Rachael inhale sharply.

  “H-Hey!” she sputtered, her face flushing a shade that rivalled the roses behind her.

  She stepped beside me quickly as if shielding me from further teasing, which only made them grin harder. Like watching someone protect their property.

  “We weren’t flirting,” she insisted, voice cracking on the last word. Even from the side, I could perfectly see how red her face had become, but, she didn’t back away from the teasing.

  “And—stop making things up! No one was radiating anything!” She said, voice firm. Taking on both of them at once as I saw Alisa and Asteria’s grins widen further.

  Right next moment, Alisa arched an eyebrow so slowly it was almost a performance.

  “Right. Of course. Completely innocent. Totally neutral atmosphere.” Alisa said, her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at Rachael.

  Asteria nodded gravely.

  “Yes, yes. Just two people staring into each other’s eyes at the door like a drama poster.”

  Rachael covered her face with both hands.

  “Oh my God—Auntie! Alisa, you too.” She muttered. “Are you both done with the teasing?”

  I kept quiet, mostly because I wasn’t sure if agreeing or disagreeing would get me killed. And, I wasn’t one to get my opinion in at times like this, because it would either make the situation better or worse, there was no middle grounds.

  After their banter died down, Rachael looked back at me, her cheerful expression back. “Give me a few minutes, I’ll get my stuff and let’s leave then.”

  I nodded and her smile hit me harder than it should’ve. Warm in a way I wasn’t used to. A part of me almost leaned forward—almost. I wasn’t sure I’d stop if I did.

  She went to the back of the shop to get her stuff as I was left alone in the front of the shop with Asteria and Alisa.

  Alisa approached me, her expression already shouting: ‘I want to poke more fun at you’.

  I braced myself.

  “Auntie,” she said sweetly, without looking away from me, “look at him. He’s already nervous. Isn’t that adorable?” She inclined her head sheepishly.

  Asteria let out a laugh that sounded way too delighted at my suffering. The middle-aged woman seem to take delight in teasing me alongside this midget.

  “Oh, very. Like a little deer. A big, tall deer.”

  “…Thank you?” I muttered, my seem to wear an awkward expression.

  Alisa leaned in, eyes narrowing with the kind of intensity detectives in dramas only use before slamming down evidence.

  “So, Shun,” she began, folding her arms. “What exactly are your intentions with my best friend?”

  “I… uh.”

  Fantastic start. So, she is the bad cop. My gaze went to Madam Asteria, ‘And, I presume you are the good cop’.

  “She’s precious to me, you know,” Alisa continued, tapping my chest with one finger like she was testing for weak spots. “So if you break her heart—”

  “I won’t.” I said, my words came out far firmer than I wanted. She was someone I didn’t want to let down, and I was willing to do anything to keep her safe.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “—I will absolutely end you.” Alisa finished, her expression still, her deadly, like she was a genuinely warning me.

  “…Noted.” I nodded along, as her face shifted into a content smile right next second.

  Asteria was wiping tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes, as Alisa pulled back and supported herself on the counter by her elbows.

  “Alisa, dear, maybe give him a moment to breathe.”

  “No. He can breathe after he passes the test.” She faced me again. “Now. Important question, Shun.” She raised a finger, her expression half serious, half playful

  She paused dramatically for effect.

  “What’s your ideal number of kids?”

  I blinked. “What—why—”

  “Fine, fine.” She waved a hand. “Too early. Here’s another one. When was the exact moment you fell for her? And yes, there should be a moment—I don’t need the cliché answer like, ‘it was like love at first sight or some bogus.”

  “I’m not—I didn’t—I mean—”

  She gasped, unable to hide her grin. “Auntie, he’s malfunctioning!”

  Asteria snorted. “Poor boy. Rachael didn’t tell him we were like this.”

  Before I could further embarrass myself, Rachael reappeared from the back, bag in hand, her apron gone and fully dressed, draped in a red sweater with a long white skirt, and a scarf wrapped around her neck with her blonde locks left loose.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of me standing stiffly by the counter like I was awaiting execution. For some reason I couldn’t seem to rebut them, but I kind of felt better. Like the change in atmosphere after meeting Rachael.

  “What did you two do to him?” She demanded, her face slacked, like she knew exactly what the two had done in the meantime she was gone to change.

  “Nothing,” Alisa sang, fake whistling and avoiding her gaze. “Just bonding. Deep, emotional bonding. He seems intriguing.”

  “I…doubt that,” Rachael muttered, grabbing my wrist before I could answer. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  “Goodbye, dears!” Asteria called, waving us goodbye.

  “Have a good date!” Alisa added. “And Rachael—be sure to let me know the specifics later!”

  Rachael whipped around. “ALISA!”

  But Alisa only grinned, completely unrepentant.

  Rachael groaned and pulled me out of the shop, her face red, my hand hostage in hers.

  I didn’t complain.

  Honestly, I was just grateful she saved my life.

  We walked a good distance before she suddenly stopped, as if only now realizing she was still holding onto me. Her fingers froze; mine didn’t move.

  The moment she loosened her grip, embarrassment washed over her, and she half-buried her face in the scarf around her neck, spouting an apology as she tried to hide behind the scarf wrapped around her neck.

  “I’m sorry about Auntie Asteria and Alisa.” She said suddenly, exhaling, as faint steam curled in the air. “They didn’t mean any offence, they were just teasing you for fun.”

  I smiled, taking her hand in mine. “I know, and I don’t mind at all. Rather, it was refreshing.” The warmth of her hand enveloped mine as she pulled the scarf little up, trying to hide her blush. “They really care about you a lot. You have really kind people around you, who care about you.”

  She seem to notice my smile as her own fingers intertwined with my fingers. “I guess, I have another person who cares about me now.”

  Heat crept up my neck, as I looked away, unable to hold her gaze. It was ridiculous how easily she disarmed the parts of me I thought were long gone.

  Honestly, it was refreshing…I’d forgotten what harmless teasing felt like. Forgotten how people who care show it. And being able to interact with people on this.

  She let out a soft breath, her hand still in mine.

  After a moment, she nudged my arm lightly.

  “So…why did you get here before the time we agreed on? Earlier, I think I saw you lurking outside of the shop.”

  I shrugged, slipping one hand into my pocket while the other remained wrapped around hers.

  “Couldn’t sleep. But, I thought I’d make sure you don’t run off last minute.”

  “Oh?” she teased, wiping her hands on her sweater, straightening it out with exaggerated innocence. “You think I’d ditch you before meeting Fujimoto?”

  “That sounds like something you’d absolutely do.”

  She huffed in mock offense.

  “Well, what if I told you I was terrified of teleportation?”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Then I’d say you should’ve mentioned that before agreeing to come along.” A smile bloomed on my face, and the grip of her hand firmed around mine.

  She laughed—a small, warm, breathy sound that softened the cold morning air.

  “Maybe I just wanted to see how you’d handle a terrified woman.” She raised a brow, giving me a sheepish grin.

  “Depends,” I said. “Do terrified women try to act brave while their hands shake the whole time?” I pointed, raising my hand—and are along.

  “Only if they’re not handled gently,” she quipped, stepping closer as her eyes met mine.

  We shared a small silence then—one that didn’t feel awkward anymore. Somewhere along the way, the tension that used to exist between us had mellowed into something softer. I could see it in the way she didn’t avoid my gaze now, or how her hand brushed against my sleeve without her pulling back immediately.

  Soon, we reached the portal house, and I checked us both in at the reception. The receptionist asked me a few questions, relevant to my trip and about the companion I was bringing along. Afterwards, we both continued our journey and went to room twelve where the portal frame was getting ready.

  The door hummed open as I saw the operator had already activated the portal frame and it looked stable enough.

  “Ready?” I asked quietly.

  “Ready,” she said, looking back at me with a confident face like that was most normal thing to do in the world. “Though I should warn you, I’m not great at these sudden jumps through space. If I faint, you’ll carry me, right?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Though if you snore mid-teleport, I’m leaving you halfway in the portal.”

  Her mouth dropped open, half-amused, half-offended. “You wouldn’t dare.” Her hand went to cover her mouth.

  “Try me,” I said with a smirk, earning a playful shove to the arm.

  We walked side by side up the flight of stairs and soon we stood just in front of the frame.

  Hand in hand, we stepped into the portal frame as the light around the periphery of my vision dimmed and we dived into the connected space.

  ***

  The world snapped back into place with a rush of cold air and the faint crackle of mana around us. The facility around us stretched out in all directions as I steadied Rachael who was barely able to stand on her—she looked anything but good right now, and without any further ado, I went to work.

  I quickly supported her and exited the facility while hearing soft groaning coming from my side, I let go of her as we mingled into the cold air of Japan.

  Rachael stood still for a millisecond, maybe shorter, she didn’t stretch or even take a deep breath.

  The first thing she did was...stumble.

  The moment her boots hit solid ground, she swayed like gravity suddenly had personal beef with her. Her face drained of colour faster than a dying glow-stick.

  I moved in her direction and took a hold of her hand.

  “Oh God,” she breathed, one hand flying to her stomach, the other clamping onto my sleeve like I was the last stable object in existence. “Everything is…w h e e l i n g—”

  I steadied her before she pitched forward, her eyes dilated.

  “Don’t vomit on the ground,” I said instinctively. “It’ll freeze.”

  Maybe this was really her first time travelling through a portal. This does happen to people who aren’t accustomed to travelling through portals that often.

  For hunters it was their day to day job to instantly reach a different city or continent entirely without wasting time—because for us, even a second mattered in emergencies.

  I looked at Rachael, her face covered by her long locks of hair, and she shot me a flat, murderous glare.

  “Shun—I am dying.”

  “You’re not dying.” I muttered back, my face for some reason had a slight grin on it that Rachael totally noticed.

  “I am. I can feel my soul trying to crawl out through my throat.” She exaggerated as much as she could as she took support beside me.

  “That’s still not dying.” I pulled a potion out of my dimensional artifact and handed it to her.

  I thought this might happen so I had already bought the potion to help with motion sickness.

  She groaned—long, dramatic, and pitiful—as she hunched over, palms on her knees.

  Her breath puffed out in uneven white clouds. I urged her to drink the potion and she did, she took slow sips from the flask as the potion slowly disappeared, but it was taking her time to adjust properly even still.

  I placed a hand on her back, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades.

  “Hey. Breathe. It’s normal.”

  Another gentle sweep of my palm.

  “It’s common for first-timers to feel nauseous after a portal jump. Your body’s just adjusting.”

  She tilted her head up at me, eyes watery.

  “You didn’t tell me it would feel like being shaken in a blender.” She grunted, like I was the culprit here. She took another shaky breath as she slowly tried to rise to her feet. With quick determination she spoke. “I’m flying back home. By air. Like a normal, sane human. I’m never doing that again.”

  I rubbed my cheek with my finger and gave an awkward, guilty laugh. “…I said it might be disorienting.”

  “That’s an understatement.” She glared at me again, but her eyes were playful now, her complexion getting better.

  Her knees wobbled again, so I guided her toward a large stone pavement sitting near the path. She sat down with the dramatic heaviness of someone signing their own will.

  I crouched beside her.

  “Close your eyes. Put your head down for a bit. Helps with the dizziness.”

  She did. Mostly because she looked two seconds away from passing out.

  After a moment, she mumbled, voice muffled into her scarf,

  “Are you sure this is normal…? I feel like I left half my organs in London.” Rachael murmured, her humour not one bit affected by the vertigo caused by the portal jump.

  I nodded, crouching down to her level now.

  “You’ll adjust. Happens to everyone.”

  She peeked up. “Even you?”

  I hesitated for a second, thinking back on the years when the first time I travelled through a portal with Master.

  “When I was twelve. It felt like a sudden push, like I was falling from all directions and someone had sucker-punched me in the gut. But, after a few more tries it got better.”

  “Great,” she groaned, letting her head fall back dramatically, her blonde hair arching back. “So I’m weaker than a twelve-year-old.”

  I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

  “You’ll be fine. Give it a minute.”

  I reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

  “You did well. Really.”

  Her eyes softened, even through the nausea.

  “…Shun?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If I survive this, you owe me hot chocolate.”

  I exhaled a small laugh.

  “Deal.”

  After Rachael had recovered enough, we both continued our journey to my house. The rhythmic click of her boots mingling with the faint hum of morning traffic. The world felt calm, almost distant—as though the city itself was giving us a quiet moment before the chaos waiting ahead.

  I sighed for some reason as I walked through the familiar streets that I grew up in. Everything looked distant and warm at the same time. Like I had found a part of myself that had been lost for so long.

  The closer we reached to the house, the more uncertain I became. Just how would I approach Fujimoto after not talking to him for an year. I stopped and turned toward Rachael. “You sure you’re okay with this? Fujimoto’s not exactly…predictable.”

  Rachael tilted her head, that mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. “Neither are you, Shun. I think I’ll manage.”

  There it was again—that disarming honesty that hit harder than any clever remark. I found myself smiling before I realized it. “You always this confident? You weren’t like this a few minutes ago.”

  “Only around people who make me feel safe,” she said, voice softer now, almost hesitant. “And, unlike you hunters, I am more of a normal citizen, so don’t lump me in with you lot.” She pouted, turning her face in the other direction.

  Something in me quieted at that. I wanted to say something back—something meaningful—but words felt clumsy. Instead, I offered her my hand.

  “Then let’s go.” She reached for my hand, it felt normal, like an instinct at this point, as I guided her in the right direction.

  Everything around us looked calm and everlasting, the quiet streets away from the main roads, the cold air, the winter’s stillness, branches dusted with frost.

  And the memories of my past. How Master had saved me from these streets, how he gave me piggyback rides when I was little, how he scolded me when I made a mistake, but apologised saying it was for my sake.

  And I understood that, even from a young age. I was just a random orphan he coincidentally picked from the streets because he pitied me, but I knew, it was fate.

  Meeting Master, meeting Fujimoto. I didn’t want to think it was just because of Master’s pity. He cared, even when he didn’t show it that openly, he always did, his strict lessons, but his kind words.

  He treated me like his own son. And I was proud to call him my father.

  I felt Rachael’s grip firm around my hand, I turned and looked at her. “What?”

  Rachael hesitated for a moment, her mouth opened and closed frequently before she asked. “It’s just...,” she paused, “you have this sad expression on your face.”

  I gave her a thin smile, veering closer to her until our shoulders touched. Rachael kept looking at me as we walked forward.

  “It’s been a long time since I came home. Everything just feels really different for some reason.” I was honest with her, letting her know what I felt. But after a moment, I continued. “But, it’s not like I’m thinking about changing my mind. I want to do it, I want to meet Fujimoto, really.”

  Just as I said, her body leaned against me just a bit more, her warmth like a balm on my wounds, as she gave me a hearty smile.

  “Alright, then we shouldn’t keep Fujimoto waiting.” She said and I gave her a nod.

  It didn’t take us long before we reached my house. It looked the same as it had an year ago. The same wood work, the same cement pavements, everything looked the same, but even then, things had changed a lot, more than I could ever think.

  Myself, Fujimoto.

  Even Rachael. I looked at her, a faint pink crept up her cheeks, maybe because of the cold or something else, I didn’t know.

  But, the moment I pushed the main gate open and entered the courtyard, I stepped in tow with Rachael and knocked on the inner doors.

  I felt my heart jumping inside my chest, I had spoken with Fujimoto on the phone, but meeting him in person felt completely different.

  After knocking a few times, I heard muffled footsteps from the inside, approaching the entrance. They were getting quicker after each step, the impatience in them clearly audible.

  Rachael steadied herself beside me, as I waited and then the door slid open fully, and for a moment, everything inside me stopped. I saw Fujimoto, standing just a few inches away from me.

  Fujimoto stood there, framed in the warm light of the entry hall. Same old him—his auburn hair in a messy top-knot, the calm, steady presence that used to anchor me even when I pretended it didn’t. The man I relied on more than I could ever admit.

  But now…

  There were dark circles under his eyes.

  His cheekbones looked sharper.

  His yukata hung just a bit looser. His dressing was just as eloquent as ever, but I didn’t miss the subtle changes, where the obi-belt was a little crooked, his collar too.

  He looked similar to how I had last seen him—at the graveyard—except more tired, more worn, as if grief had quietly rearranged the lines of his face while no one was watching.

  I chewed the inside my cheek, my eyes began to sting, seeing him so weak, so tired. If I hadn’t ran away, if I hadn’t been a coward. If only I had taken care of Fujimoto when he needed me.

  But, I had done the most pathetic thing someone could ever do. I had left him behind, to let him fend off all by himself.

  He looked at me.

  And I looked at him. My expression full of guilt and regret.

  A thousand words pressed against my throat—apologies, questions, explanations, relief—and not a single one came out.

  ‘Damn it, say something. Anything.’ I screamed at myself, but the words felt like knives scrapping at the back of my throat.

  The same was true for him.

  Silence pooled between us, heavy and trembling.

  Then Fujimoto moved. A single step, no hurry in it.

  It wasn’t dramatic.

  It wasn’t grand.

  He just...stepped forward—one quiet, deliberate step—like his body had decided for him before his mind could catch up.

  And before I knew it, his arms were around me.

  Warm.

  Familiar.

  And shaking just slightly.

  I froze for a heartbeat, every buried emotion slamming into my ribs at once—guilt, relief, regret, that old childish longing I thought I’d outgrown to be held by someone dear.

  Then my hands rose, almost on their own, gripping the back of his yukata as I leaned into him. My grip firmed on his back, reminding me of how I used to hide behind him and how he used to hug and console me when I cried.

  I buried my face into his shoulder, tears falling freely from my eyes. I broke down in that moment, letting that armour of callousness fall, I didn’t need it anymore. I was home, Fujimoto was here. That’s all I needed for now.

  And, It wasn’t a reunion hug. It was everything at once. An apology, about our survival, about our regrets.

  Fujimoto exhaled into my shoulder, a sound too soft to be a sob but too heavy to be anything else.

  “You’re home,” he murmured—so quiet it barely reached my ears.

  My throat tightened.

  “…Yeah,” I whispered. “I’m home.”

  After a moment, I let go of him and he took a step backward.

  The air between us felt thick with unspoken things, memories and regrets flickering through the silence. For a second, I wasn’t a hunter, or a leader of my team, or anything else. I was just that kid he used to carry on his back, standing on the doorstep of the only home I’d ever known.

  Fujimoto exhaled first—a small, shaky breath he pretended was nothing—and stepped aside.

  “…Come in,” he said with a bright smile, wiping the tears welled in his eyes.

  His voice sounded exactly the same as I remembered, and for some reason, that made my chest tighten.

  Rachael and I stepped past him together, the warmth of the house wrapping around us like an old blanket.

  As she slipped off her scarf, and took for her boots, replacing them with indoor slippers, I cleared my throat. “Fujimoto…this is Rachael.” I paused. “She came with me. The person I told you about.”

  Rachael bowed politely—following the Japanese custom. “It’s an honour to meet you, sir.”

  Fujimoto blinked once, then leaned forward an inch, as if inspecting a rare artifact. A sly smile over his face now, and right at that moment, I wanted to face slam.

  “Oh my.” He straightened. “You really are beautiful. I think Shun failed to describe your beauty.”

  Rachael froze, eyes wide.

  I choked on air. A silent sigh almost left me as I looked at Fujimoto; back to what he always did.

  Fujimoto hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Shun, you brought home someone this kind, this polite, and this pretty? I’m almost impressed. I thought your type was ‘emotionally unavailable and holding a sharp object’.” He poked a finger at me, his grin widened ever so slightly.

  “Fujimoto—” I hissed under my breath, feeling heat crawl up my neck.

  Rachael’s face bloomed red instantly, and she covered her mouth to hide a shy smile. “I—I don’t think he expected that introduction either…”

  Fujimoto chuckled, the sound softer than usual but genuine. “Good. He needs someone to surprise him. Otherwise his brain will gather dust.”

  Both of us just stood there, blushing like idiots.

  “Come,” Fujimoto said, turning and leading us toward the drawing room. “You two can sit. I already prepared tea. And food. Because SOMEONE”—he didn’t even look back, but I still felt the accusatory finger pointed at me—“has a habit of forgetting meals when he’s anxious.”

  Rachael elbowed me gently. “That sounds…accurate.”

  “Traitor,” I muttered, following behind her.

  But truthfully, as I walked through the hallway I’d memorized as a child—the faint smell of old wood, the framed calligraphy on the wall, the way the floor creaked in the same spot as always—something inside me eased.

  Fujimoto was still here.

  Still himself.

  Still home.

  Even if we didn’t know how to say it yet.