Location: Saint Lycoris Orphanage (Former Syndicate Facility)Time: Dusk — autumn wind / the last train home waiting on the hill
The orphanage is almost gone.
Vines crawl through the windows like veins reclaiming a body. Lilies bloom from bullet holes. The sign by the gate has lost its name; only two letters remain — L and S — initials that mean everything to no one but her.
Kana stands at the gate, fingertips brushing rusted iron. The metal flakes away like memory.Ren waits beside her, paper bag in hand — two candles, two cups of coffee, one crimson lycoris wrapped in tissue.
REN: "Didn't think it'd still be standing."KANA: "It's stubborn."REN: "Like you."KANA: "Like us."
The wind shifts, scattering dust that once might have been prayer ash. They step through the gate together.
Scene — Entering the Ruins
Inside, silence owns the walls.
Desks lie overturned, chalk stains cling to forgotten equations. The air smells faintly of chalk and old antiseptic — discipline pretending to be safety.On one wall, height marks fade into the paint, names written beside each line in childish scrawl.
KANA — 121 cm.
She stares at it, the faded graphite trembling beneath her touch.
KANA: "This was where they taught me to obey."REN: "And where did you learned to fight?"KANA: "No. Where I learned to survive until I could fight back."
She smiles faintly — not bitterly, but like someone reading the last line of a letter that finally makes sense.
Scene — The Hidden Room
At the corridor's end, a door lies half-buried in ivy and roots. Kana clears it gently, fingers steady now. The wood gives way with a sigh.
The basement smells of paper and earth.No cages. No restraints. Just shelves filled with drawings sealed in plastic sleeves.
Crayon suns. Stick-figure angels. A house with too many windows.And seven flowers, each a different color.
REN: "You drew these?"KANA: "All of us did. They used to make us name them."REN: "Do you remember?"
She touches each picture, lips moving with every name.
KANA: "Angel. Doll. Heart. Ghost. Maker. Saint."
Her hand hovers over the seventh — an outline with no color.
KANA: "And me."
The light from above filters through cracks, painting her face in the same soft red as the flower he brought.
Internal Echo — The Final Whisper
The air hums — soft, warm, wordless.
No voices this time.Just the pulse of presence: laughter, tears, and six quiet heartbeats fading into one.
"We're still here.""But you don't need to hear us to know.""Live, Kana."
The sound lingers like wind through petals, then fades into peace.
Scene — Lighting the Candles
They set two white candles on a broken desk.The crimson lycoris between them glows faintly in the low light.
Ren lights the wicks. The twin flames bend toward each other, touching briefly before joining as one.
REN: "You think they'd be proud?"KANA: "They were me. So I hope so."REN: "Then they are."
She leans her head on his shoulder. The wax drips, pooling slowly — a quiet clock that doesn't need to tell time anymore.
Diary Fragment (Final Entry)
[Fragment Log #26 — Twilight Garden]Location: Saint Lycoris OrphanageStatus: closure achievedVoices: peaceful
Every story ends twice — once when the war stops, and once when the heart learns to be quiet.Tonight, both are true.If anyone finds this place, let the flowers grow.That will be enough.
She closes the notebook, leaves it beside the candles.
Closing Scene
Outside, twilight gathers like an embrace.
They step through the front doors one last time. The sun dips behind the hill, turning the sky the color of old roses. The orphanage windows catch the light and glow for a heartbeat — like eyes remembering how to dream.
Ren takes her hand.
REN: "Ready to go?"KANA: "Yes."REN: "Where to this time?"KANA: "Anywhere we don't have to hide."
The first stars appear. The wind carries the scent of rain and blooming lycoris.
Behind them, the twin candles flicker —two lights leaning toward each other —And then, quietly, they go out together.
End of Diary #26 — "Twilight Garden."