20 / 02 / 2019, 14:34 — Wednesday, Osaka Kaisei Prefectural Hospital, Osaka
The sun was high when the final procedures began. The quiet hum of the hospital corridor accompanied the faint rustling of papers being filled.
Akane sat beside Riscia at the counter, his right hand trembling slightly as he tried to sign the discharge form.
Nurses moved in and out of the room, collecting files and returning them with polite efficiency.
Every so often, one of them would glance toward him, whispering to another, the boy who had slept seven months, now awake and walking again.
Riscia gently helped him up, her hand supporting his back. His legs trembled as if every movement exhausted his strength. Only then did he feel a slight hatred towards his own weakness.
Outside the hospital doors, the wind was cool. The scent of disinfectant was replaced by the faint tang of asphalt and fresh air. Riscia guided him slowly toward the waiting car, while two nurses followed closely, ensuring he didn't collapse mid-step.
Dr. Tabata was already waiting by the entrance. His coat fluttered in the wind, and his expression remained the same mixture of professionalism and lingering concern.
"Shirakami-kun," he began, tone firm but not cold. "Your discharge is conditional. Remember to continue your rehabilitation exercises daily. Avoid excessive strain, and rest often. We'll send the home rehabilitation equipment in two days."
Akane nodded quietly. "I understand."
Riscia bowed deeply, thanking him on behalf of their family. The doctor's gaze softened, if only slightly. "You're lucky," he murmured, almost to himself. "A seven-month coma… and yet, you can still walk."
Then, stepping back, he watched as Akane entered the car. The nurses waved politely, reminding Riscia to expect their visit soon.
As the car door closed, the sound of the hospital faded, a chapter sealed.
The engine started, the tires rolled, and the hospital grew smaller in the rearview mirror.
The first step toward the world outside.
---
Inside the car, silence reigned. Riscia focused on the road, both hands firm on the wheel, though her eyes flickered occasionally toward the mirror.
Akane leaned forward a bit, his gaze fixed on the scenery rushing by outside the window.
The blurred outlines of buildings flew past, mirroring the rhythm of a new chapter in his life and signaling a subtle shift in his surroundings.
He watched everything with quiet detachment, as if seeing a world rebuilt in his absence.
Riscia's expression kept shifting in the mirror: hesitation, concern, curiosity. She seemed to want to speak, but every time she opened her mouth, the words fell apart.
Akane noticed. He had noticed since they left the hospital, yet he said nothing. Part of him feared what might escape if he spoke too soon, the unstable pulse beneath his calm, the residue of "malice" that still pulsed faintly in the corner of his consciousness.
He didn't want to risk it. Not with her.
So he waited.
Then, softly, he exhaled and closed his eyes.
Riscia thought he had fallen asleep and smiled faintly, a little disappointed, a little relieved. But then his voice came, quiet and gentle:
"Long time no see, right, Riscia-nee-chan?"
She jolted in surprise, nearly swerving before catching herself. "Eh—? Ah— yes, yes! It really has been a long time, Akane-kun!"
She laughed awkwardly, the tension cracking for a brief moment. "You're really different from when you were a kid, you know?"
Akane turned slightly, smiling, a soft, almost nostalgic curve of lips. "Different, huh? I guess seven months is a long time."
For a while, the two talked lightly, about the hospital food, about his siblings, about how Ayato got taller and Irina started taking art classes.
The conversation flowed easily, but beneath the warmth was a distance she couldn't name.
Something had changed.
The boy she knew had always been mischievous, too clever for his own good, bright and alive.
But now, even when he smiled, there was a stillness behind it. His eyes, once light and clear, carried something quieter, colder, as though some part of him had not returned from that coma.
Riscia's fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. She wanted to ask, to know what had happened seven months ago.
But the air between them felt fragile, like the wrong word might shatter it.
Akane's voice broke the silence first.
"Enough with the hesitation, nee-chan. You're curious, aren't you?"
Her breath caught.
"I know what you want to know, about what happened seven months ago. But before that…" He turned his gaze, the passing sunlight casting half his face in shadow. "Let me ask first."
Riscia swallowed. "…Ask what?"
"Can you tell me what happened after I fell asleep?"
She hesitated. But his eyes, calm, sharp, almost unblinking, left no room for avoidance. So she began to recount what happened.
She spoke of the crater in Fukuoka.
Of the three of them, Akane, Ayato, and Irina, lying unconscious near the center, as if dropped there by some unseen hand.
And the strangers who arrived soon after, identifying themselves as part of a government task force.
As she spoke, her voice trembled. Not from fear, but from the memory of uncertainty. The memory of her helplessness and confusion.
And as she reached the part where Ayato and Irina began recalling fragments of that day, Akane's "malice" stirred.
A faint black mist coiled quietly beneath his seat, hidden from sight, undulating like smoke. His fingers clenched against his knee. He fought to contain it, to listen until the end.
When she finally finished, her shoulders slightly slumped, as though she had emptied everything she'd held in for months. The car was silent again.
Akane stared ahead, expression blank. Inside, however, two wars raged, one against the Maroon Door, and the other within his reason.
He processed everything like data, suppressing the emotional weight, yet something deep within him refused to remain silent.
Finally, he exhaled, steadying himself.
"Thank you for telling me, nee-chan," he said softly. "If you hadn't arrived that day… I don't know what would've happened to us." He bowed his head slightly. "Thank you."
Riscia blinked, stunned, then smiled weakly, tears glimmering faintly in her eyes. "It's nothing, Akane. We're family, after all. But…"
Her tone shifted, heavier. "Do you remember what happened that day, Akane-kun?"
Her knuckles whitened around the steering wheel.
Akane's gaze turned toward the window again, expression unreadable. "Even if I know the answer… I can't tell you, nee-chan."
Her body tensed. "What do you mean by that?"
He looked at her reflection in the glass. "It's exactly what I said. You want answers, I understand. But maybe there will be a time when you'll know. For now, you shouldn't do."
The car slowed, pulling to the side of the road. Riscia turned toward him, tears welling up.
"So I just pretend it's nothing? My sister, your mother, disappeared, Akane! Declared dead! How can you act like it's nothing? Don't you care?"
Her voice cracked, pain bursting through her composure.
Akane remained silent for a moment, letting the wave pass. His mind stayed cold, unnervingly calm.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, deliberate.
"I do care, nee-chan. I was angry too. Desperate. But what I felt most… was helplessness."
He looked down at his trembling hands. "Like you, I couldn't do anything. Not then. Not now. But if I told you everything, if I involved you, Aniki, and Irina-chan, then I'd lose more than I already have."
"So let me bear it. You can hate me, yell at me, whatever you want. But I'll still do what I must. I won't let that day repeat itself."
Riscia stared at him, speechless, caught between grief and awe.
The car rolled forward again, silence settling like dust between them. Neither spoke further.
By the time she realized it, they had arrived.
The new apartment stood tall, sunlight glinting off its windows, a quiet place for a new beginning.
Riscia parked the car and exhaled shakily. Akane opened the door and stepped out slowly, the faint wind brushing against his face.
For the first time, he felt the weight of the world pressing back, alive, breathing, real.
The world that continued without him.
And now, he had finally stepped back into this stage.