Chapter 43 – The Aftermath
The city still breathed smoke.
Crimson embers drifted across the night like dying fireflies. Sirens echoed far behind them, fading one by one until only the hum of distant drones remained.
Shin, Vaibhav, Alicia, and Nanao walked down the cracked boulevard — four silhouettes beneath flickering neon signs and broken lampposts.
Rainwater pooled in the gutters, reflecting shards of color — pink, blue, gold — painting their faces with ghostlight.
No one spoke for a long time.
The battle still hung in their bones, the metallic taste of fear not yet gone.
Then Shin broke the silence.
> "So…"
He kicked a pebble down the street.
"…we're officially not dead. Anyone feel like celebrating?"
Nanao's lips twitched.
> "You're insufferable."
"I'll take that as affection."
Vaibhav chuckled faintly, rubbing his neck.
> "You two argue like an old married couple."
Alicia shot him a sideways glance.
> "You're one to talk."
He looked away, hiding a small smile.
Their laughter — soft and genuine — cut through the smoke like sunlight through mist.
They reached the intersection where the road split — one path leading to the residential district, another toward the high ridge overlooking Skyhaven's core.
The skyline ahead was half-lit, half-ruined. Skyscrapers stood like fractured teeth, but lights still flickered in the windows — proof that life endured.
Nanao slowed her steps, glancing toward Shin.
> "Thank you… for earlier. You said you'd protect me, and you did."
Shin scratched his cheek, pretending to look unimpressed.
> "Yeah, well… you owe me for that."
"Oh?"
"Dinner. And a lifetime supply of desserts."
Her eyes softened with amusement.
> "You're impossible."
"And you're buying cake."
Alicia rolled her eyes.
> "Children."
Vaibhav nodded solemnly.
"Absolutely. Though I do want dessert too."
> Shin: "Traitor."
They all laughed again, letting the night wash away the weight of blood and fire.
After seeing Nanao home — she waved with a faint smile before disappearing into the glow of her courtyard gate — Shin took the sky-tram alone.
It hummed quietly through the suspended rails, passing over the city like a ghost glider.
The wind brushed against the windows, carrying the faint smell of rain and metal.
When the tram docked at the old residential block, Shin stood for a long moment on the platform, staring at the familiar neighborhood.
Nothing had changed — the same street lamps, the same cracked pavement, the same vending machine that still ate coins and refused to return them.
> "Home sweet headache," he muttered and walked toward his door.
The moment he slid it open—
> "SHIN KAZUO!"
[Note: Kazuo means First Son]
His mother's voice struck like a thunderbolt.
Akari stormed out of the kitchen, apron flapping, wooden spoon in hand like a divine weapon.
> "Four months! Four! Do you know how many sleepless nights that is?"
> "Uh… about—"
"Don't answer that!"
Before he could react, a blur of hair and tears slammed into him.
Hinata — his little sister — wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing tight.
> "Onee-chan, You idiot! You didn't even message!"
"Ow— okay, okay! I'm alive, see?"
She sniffed, still clinging to him.
> "I was gonna delete your gaming account."
"Now that's just evil."
From the living room, his father Hiroshi's voice drifted lazily without looking up from the holo-paper.
> "Didn't die, huh?"
"Good."
Shin blinked, half-laughing.
> "That's… your welcome home?"
"Don't push it."
And yet, Shin could see the faint smirk tugging at the old man's lips.
By the time Akari cooled down enough to let him sit, the table was already full — steaming rice, tempura, grilled fish, miso soup. The smell alone almost made him cry.
He sat down beside Hinata, who still eyed him like she expected him to vanish again.
> "Eat," Akari ordered. "Before I hit you with this spoon."
"Yesss, ma'am."
Halfway through dinner, the house filled with the usual noise — Akari's mock complaints about Shin's appetite, Hinata's endless chatter, Hiroshi pretending to read but clearly listening.
> Akari: "So what exactly were you doing out there?"
Shin: "Uh… punching things."
Hinata: "Like what?"
"Big glowing things."
"You're so weird."
"Thanks, I try."
Laughter rolled through the small dining room, bouncing off walls lined with faded family photos. For a moment, the war outside didn't exist.
Shin's phone buzzed mid-meal.
He glanced at the screen — Nanao.
> "Oh, uh— it's just a call, I'll—"
Akari grinned instantly.
> "Ah, Nanao?"
Shin fumbled the phone, nearly dropping it into his soup.
> "It's not— I mean, she's— she's my teammate!"
Hiroshi muttered without looking up,
> "At least she's polite. Better than that girl from middle school."
"Dad!"
He escaped to the hallway before his family could weaponize more comments.
When he answered, Nanao's calm voice flowed through the speaker, low and warm.
> "Did you reach home safely?"
"Yeah… finally got yelled at for surviving."
"Good. You deserved it."
Shin smiled.
> "You sound way too happy saying that."
"Maybe I am."
There was a small pause.
"Goodnight, Shin."
"Night, Nanao."
He hung up and leaned against the wall, staring at the quiet streetlight outside the window. His heartbeat, for once, wasn't racing.
Across the city, Lin Xuan's mansion lay bathed in moonlight.
The courtyard garden shimmered with dew; silver lotus lanterns floated gently across the pond.
Alicia sat on the stone bench, her fingers brushing the soft fur of the little Unbound Wolf sleeping beside her. The pup snored lightly, tail twitching as if chasing stars.
Vaibhav lay back on the grass, hands behind his head, eyes half-closed.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Then Alicia's voice broke the stillness.
> "You kept your promise."
He opened one eye.
> "Which one?"
"The one where you said you'd survive."
He smiled faintly.
> "I try to keep the easy ones."
She didn't reply — just leaned her head gently against his shoulder.
The moonlight painted them in quiet silver, the sound of distant cicadas filling the silence between heartbeats.
Up on the balcony, Lin Xuan stood watching — a shadow against the pale glow.
His eyes, calm yet distant, reflected the night sky.
His gaze drifted toward the horizon — where the sea still shimmered faintly red from Asura wreckage.
Hours later, Shin finally collapsed into his old bed — soft, messy, familiar.
The ceiling fan hummed gently above him, casting slow-moving shadows on the walls.
His phone buzzed once more.
> Nanao: "Rest well, Shin-chan."
He stared at the glowing message for a long moment —
and then, a smile.
A quiet, unguarded smile that reached his eyes.
> "Yeah," he whispered to the dark,
"you too."