The house smelled faintly of warm rice and miso soup, drifting from the kitchen where Haru moved with practiced ease. He wore an apron—a sight that would've made his younger, battle-hardened self scoff, but now he carried it with pride. Every chop of the knife, every careful stir of the pot felt like another kind of victory.
The front door opened softly. Aara stepped in, her bag slung over one shoulder, exhaustion written across her face. She kicked off her shoes and leaned against the doorway, watching him for a moment in silence.
"You know," she said with a faint smile, "you make a terrifyingly efficient house husband."
Haru glanced over his shoulder, smirking. "Efficient? I'll take that as high praise. Hungry?"
"Starving," Aara admitted, stepping forward. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek against his back. "I swear, my students are more demanding than Seraph operatives ever were."
Haru chuckled, setting the knife down. "At least they don't shoot at you."
"Not yet," she teased. "But a few more essays with the wrong citations and I might."
He turned in her arms, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Sit. Food's almost ready."
She lingered, eyes soft on him. "Sometimes I still can't believe this is real. That I get to come home to this. To you."
Before he could reply, the door banged open.
"Mama! Papa! We're home!"
Chaos spilled into the house like a flood. Kaien, the eldest, slipped his shoes off neatly and sighed at the racket, already fishing a book from his bag. "Can we at least enter the house without sounding like a parade?"
"Don't be boring, Kaien," Ren shot back, hair tousled from running, a scrape on his knee. "We had a race from the corner. Guess who won?"
Hana darted in before he could finish, leaping into Haru's arms. "Me! I won! Ren's just mad because I'm faster."
"Only because you cheated!" Ren shouted, throwing his bag down.
"Did not!" Hana stuck her tongue out, giggling as Haru lifted her higher onto his shoulders.
Mika came in last, clutching a small box carefully. "Papa, Mama—look! I finished the solar car project. It even moves a little." Her eyes sparkled as she set it on the table, winding the mechanism until the tiny wheels jerked forward.
Aara leaned down, her exhaustion melting into pride. "That's incredible, Mika. You'll outshine your professors one day."
Kaien adjusted his glasses, rolling his eyes. "If she doesn't blow up the house first."
"I won't!" Mika protested, cheeks puffing. "Papa helps me check the circuits."
"Papa spoils all of you," Kaien muttered, but his lips twitched, betraying the hint of a smile.
Haru, still balancing Hana on his shoulders, raised an eyebrow. "And you don't like being spoiled, Kaien?"
Kaien hesitated, then buried his face in his book. "…I didn't say that."
The room erupted in laughter.
Just then, another knock came at the door—gentler, deliberate. Aara opened it to find Ayin standing there, carrying a bag of fruit. Her smile was warm, her eyes brighter than they'd ever been in the years since her rescue.
"Thought I'd drop by," Ayin said. "I heard the parade from down the street."
"Auntie Ayin!" Hana squealed, wriggling free from Haru to run into her arms.
Ayin lifted her with ease, spinning her around. "You've grown even heavier, little one. Stop eating all of Papa's cooking."
"Never!" Hana declared proudly.
Ren crossed his arms. "You spoil them worse than Papa does."
"Someone has to," Ayin shot back with a grin, ruffling his hair.
They all gathered at the table, the house filled with chatter, laughter, overlapping voices. Aara sat between Haru and Ayin, her heart swelling as she watched her family—the family she never thought she'd have—so alive, so safe.
As bowls clattered and food was passed, the conversations spilled over one another.
"Mama, can you check my essay later?" Kaien asked seriously.
"Papa, tomorrow can we fix the garden shed?" Mika chimed in.
"Papa, Mama—can I join the kendo club? Please?" Ren demanded.
"Mama, Papa—guess what, I got picked to be line leader!" Hana announced proudly.
Aara laughed, raising her hands. "One at a time, please! Or my head might explode."
Haru smirked, pouring her tea. "Welcome home, professor. This is your battlefield now."
She leaned against his shoulder, eyes soft. "It's the only battlefield I'll ever fight on again."
Ayin watched them quietly, a small smile playing on her lips. Later, when the children were distracted with food and chatter, she leaned closer to Aara. "You did it. You gave them a life beyond shadows."
Aara reached across the table, squeezing her sister's hand. "We did it. All of us."
For the first time, the world outside felt distant, irrelevant. The wars, the scars, the pain—they were pieces of a past that no longer defined them.
Here, in the laughter of children, in Haru's steady warmth, in Ayin's healing smile, Ash finally felt what she'd fought for all along: peace.