Zayne was still the same.
That was the first thing Nana noticed as they traveled together over the following days. Despite having no memories, despite being reborn multiple times, despite everything—some fundamental parts of him remained unchanged.
He was quiet. Spoke only when necessary. Observed more than he participated in conversations.
And he was adorable when he got flustered.
Nana had discovered this almost immediately. When she'd shift closer to him without warning, or grab his hand as they walked, or lean against him while they rested—Zayne would go completely still. His eyes would blink rapidly, like he didn't know how to process what was happening.
Nervous, Nana realized with delight. He gets nervous around me.And when he thought she wasn't looking, he'd smile. Small, secret smiles that made her heart ache with how much she'd missed them.
Like right now.
They were walking through District 17, searching for better shelter. Something with intact walls to block the wind, maybe even a roof that didn't leak. Their hands were clasped together—Nana had grabbed his an hour ago, and Zayne hadn't let go.
She could see him staring at their joined hands out of the corner of her eye. See the slight upturn of his lips.
Then he'd turn his head quickly when he noticed her looking, his expression smoothing back to neutral.
Too late, Nana thought, fighting her own smile. I already saw.
"There" Zayne said, pointing to a building ahead. "That looks promising. The structure seems sound."
"Lead the way, Doctor Li," Nana said without thinking.
Zayne glanced at her curiously. "Doctor?"
Oh no!
"I mean—" Nana scrambled for an explanation. "You just... seem like you'd be good at taking care of people. Medical knowledge, maybe? Your instincts?"
It wasn't entirely a lie. Even without memories, Zayne had checked her for injuries multiple times over the past few days. His hands moved with practiced precision, assessing wounds with the confidence of someone who'd done it thousands of times.
Muscle memory. His body remembered even if his mind didn't.
"Maybe" Zayne said thoughtfully. "Sometimes I... know things. How to treat injuries. Where to apply pressure to stop bleeding. But I don't remember learning it."
"Past life knowledge," Nana said softly. "Your body remembers."
Zayne squeezed her hand gently—unconsciously, she thought—and continued walking.
They were approaching what looked like an old bank, the building's facade still mostly intact, when Nana heard it:
Engines.
Motorcycles, multiple of them, growing louder by the second.
Zayne heard them too. His entire body went rigid, and his grip on Nana's hand turned almost painful.
"We need to hide," he said urgently. "Now."
"What—
"Now! Nana!"
He pulled her toward the bank building, moving with sudden desperate speed.
They slipped through a broken window just as the motorcycles rounded the corner.
Nana caught a glimpse of them—rough-looking men, heavily armed, riding in formation like a military unit. A gang. One of the many that controlled Avalon's territories.
Zayne dragged her deeper into the building, finding a small office space with overturned desks they could hide behind. His breathing was harsh, panicked in a way she'd never seen before.
"Zayne?" Nana whispered. "What's wrong? Who are they?"
"My old group," Zayne said quietly, his jaw tight. "The gang that raised me when I first woke up in Avalon. I... I ran away from them. They'll be looking for me. They'll want—" He cut himself off, shaking his head.
Outside,the motorcycles stopped. Engines cut off. Voices.
"Search the area! Hazel Eyes couldn't have gotten far!"
"Tao wants him back. Says we need our best fighter for the territory war."
"If he won't come back willingly, we drag him. Boss's orders."
Nana felt Zayne tense beside her, his hand still gripping hers like a lifeline.
His gang, she realized. They're hunting him.
Footsteps echoed through the bank. Multiple people, spreading out to search.
Nana and Zayne held their breath, pressed together behind the overturned desk. She could feel Zayne's heart racing against her shoulder.
Please don't find us, she prayed. Please—
A shadow fell across their hiding spot one of the gang members—a bald man with a scar across his face—was standing right there, his gun sweeping the room.
Their eyes met.
"FOUND HIM!" the man shouted, raising his weapon. "Hazel Eyes is—"
Nana moved.
She launched herself at him before he could finish, her body slamming into his shoulders with all her weight. They went down together, and Nana's blade was in her hand instantly.
One strike. Clean. Through the throat.
Black mist.
"Nana!" Zayne was on his feet, his own weapons drawn. More gang members were flooding into the room, and behind them—
Oh no.
The commotion had attracted attention. Demons and hybrids were converging on the building, drawn by the sounds of violence.
"We can't fight them all!" Nana called out, taking down another gang member who'd gotten too close.
Zayne's crossbow took out a third. But there were too many—gang members still pouring in, and now creatures mixing into the chaos.
A demon lunged. Zayne's blade caught it mid-leap, but another was already coming from his blind spot—
Nana killed it first, her pipe decorated with wire spikes caving in its skull.
They fought back-to-back, perfectly synchronized despite Zayne having no memories of their partnership. His body knew how to move with hers. Knew when to cover her blind spots. Knew when to trust that she'd cover his.wasn't enough. There were too many.
"Time to go!" Zayne grabbed Nana around the waist—
And quite literally threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"ZAYNE!" Nana yelped, but he was already running, his long legs carrying them both with impressive speed.
Behind them, the gang members tried to give chase. But the demons and hybrids were faster, hungrier. The sounds of fighting continued as creatures tore into the gang, buying Zayne and Nana precious seconds to escape.
Zayne ran. Through the bank, out a back exit, across a courtyard filled with debris. Up a fire escape, leaping between buildings with Nana still over his shoulder.
"You can put me down now!" Nana protested, though she was secretly impressed by his stamina.
"Not yet,Need to get further away."
He kept running. Building to building, higher and higher, until the sounds of fighting were distant echoes.
Finally, when they reached an abandoned building that looked relatively safe—maybe an old clinic, based on the broken medical equipment inside—Zayne set Nana down gently.
They stared at each other for a moment, both breathing hard.
And then Zayne started laughing.
It was quiet at first, just a soft chuckle. But it grew, becoming genuine, full-bodied laughter that lit up his entire face.
Nana stared at him in wonder.
He's laughing. Really laughing.
When was the last time she'd heard him laugh? Back in Linkon, maybe? That first cafe meeting when she'd pouted about wanting more strawberry candy?.
"That's was insane. Did you see their faces when the demons attacked them instead?"
"Poetic justice," Nana agreed, and then she was laughing too.
They stood there in the abandoned clinic, laughing like idiots while Avalon's chaos continued outside. It was absurd. Ridiculous. They'd almost died, and here they were, laughing about it.
But god, it felt good.
When the laughter finally faded, Nana found herself staring at Zayne's face. Really looking at him.
He was beautiful when he laughed. His eyes crinkled at the corners. His smile was genuine, unguarded. The harsh lines of stress and survival softened, revealing the man underneath.
I love you, she thought, the realization hitting her all over again. I love this version of you too. Even without memories,
you're still you.
Zayne expression shifted as he noticed her staring. The laughter faded, replaced by something more serious.
"You're injured," he said, moving toward her. His hands were already reaching out, checking her for wounds with practiced efficiency. "Did any of them hit you? The demons—"
"I'm fine," Nana assured him. "Not even a scratch. You got us out before—"
"Your shoulder's bleeding."
Nana looked down. Sure enough, her jacket was torn, and blood was seeping through. She hadn't even felt it.
"It's nothing," she tried to say, but Zayne was already guiding her to sit down, already pulling out the medical kit he'd assembled.
"Let me see."
Nana removed her jacket, wincing as the fabric pulled at the wound. It wasn't deep—just a graze from something sharp during the fight. But Zayne treated it like it was life-threatening, his hands gentle as he cleaned and bandaged it.
"You need to be more careful," he murmured, focused on his work. "You can't just throw yourself at armed men like that."
"Says the man who ran through a demon horde carrying me like a potato sack."
"That was different. I was—" He paused, seeming to search for words. "I was protecting you."
"And I was protecting you," Nana said softly. "We're a team now. We protect each other."
Zayne's hands stilled on the bandage. He looked up at her, those hazel eyes searching her face for something he couldn't quite name."why?" he asked quietly. "Why do you care so much about protecting me? You barely know me."
I know you better than you know yourself, Nana thought. I know how you take your coffee. I know you hate loud noises but love thunderstorms. I know you carry strawberry candy in your pocket and blush when you're flustered.
I know you loved me enough to die for me.
"Because you saved me from drowning," Nana said instead. "And because... I want to. You're not alone anymore, Zayne. Neither of us is."
Something flickered across Zayne's expression—too quick for her to identify. But then he nodded and finished securing the bandage.
They shared their meager meal in comfortable silence—canned food and stale water, luxury in Avalon. Outside, the sounds of the city continued: screams, roars, the occasional explosion.
Just another night in hell.
But inside their temporary shelter, it felt almost peaceful.
Nana found herself growing sleepy as the adrenaline from the fight wore off. Without thinking, she curled up on the floor near Zayne, using her backpack as a pillow.
"You should sleep," Zayne said quietly. "I'll keep watch."
"You need to sleep too," Nana protested, but her eyes were already closing.
"I will. Later. For now..." She felt him move closer, positioning himself where he could watch both exits. "For now, just rest. I'll make sure nothing happens to you."
Alike you always did, Nana thought drowsily. Even without memories, you're still protecting me.
She drifted off to the sound of Zayne loading his crossbow, the quiet click of bolts being checked and rechecked.
Zayne watched Nana sleep, her face peaceful for the first time since he'd met her.
She'd curled up beside him like a cat, trusting him completely. It made something in his chest ache—a feeling he couldn't quite name.
Beautiful, he thought, then immediately felt his ears heat with embarrassment.
Where had that come from?
But he couldn't deny it. Nana was beautiful. Even covered in grime and blood, even with her long hair messily tangled , even wearing tattered survival gear—she was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in Avalon.
And the way she'd fought today...
Zayne had seen plenty of fighters in his time with the gang. Brutal, efficient killers who'd do anything to survive.Nana fought differently. She fought with purpose. With precision. And more importantly—she'd fought to protect him.
No one had done that before. His gang had used him as a weapon, but never protected him. Never cared if he got hurt as long as he won their battles.
But this stranger—this girl who claimed to know him from a life he couldn't remember—had thrown herself into danger without hesitation to keep him safe.
Why?
He wanted to understand. Wanted to remember whatever past they'd shared that made her so fiercely protective of him.
But his mind was blank. Just gray fog where memories should be.
All he had was this present moment: an abandoned clinic in a nightmare city, keeping watch while a beautiful stranger slept beside him.
Stranger,he reminded himself. She's a stranger. Just because she says you knew each other doesn't mean—
But even as he thought it, he knew it was wrong.
She didn't feel like a stranger.
When she grabbed his hand, it felt natural. When she rested her head on his shoulder, his body relaxed like it had done this a thousand times before. When she fought beside him, they moved like they'd been partners for years.
Soul recognition, maybe. Or just wishful thinking from a man with no past and an uncertain future.
Zayne adjusted his position slightly, keeping his crossbow ready. His eyes swept the room continuously, checking shadows, listening for any sounds that didn't belong.
Hours passed. Nana continued sleeping, occasionally making small sounds or shifting closer to him in her sleep.Everytime she moved closer, Zayne felt his heart rate increase. Felt that strange warmth in his chest.
What is this feeling?
He didn't have a name for it. Didn't understand why being near her made him feel both calm and terrified at the same time.
All he knew was that when she'd attacked him on that rooftop, when he'd first seen her face—something in him had recognized her.
Not consciously. Not with memories.
But somewhere deeper. Somewhere fundamental.
Like I've been searching for you my entire life, he'd thought when he'd first seen her face.
And now, watching her sleep peacefully beside him, trusting him to keep her safe—
Zayne found himself smiling.
It was small smile. Barely there.
But genuine.
Beautiful, he thought again, and this time, he didn't try to deny it.
She was beautiful. And brave. And fierce. And somehow, impossibly, she'd found him in this nightmare city and refused to leave.
I don't know who I was before, Zayne thought, his hand unconsciously moving to brush a strand of hair from Nana's face. But whoever I was... he must have been someone worth finding.
Because she came back for me.
Outside, Avalon continued its eternal violence. Demons hunted. Hybrids fought for territory. Humans killed each other over scraps.
But inside their shelter, for just this moment, there was peace.
A man with no memories keeping watch with,
a woman who remembered enough for both of them, sleeping safe beside him.
And the promise—unspoken but understood—that they would survive this together.
Whatever it took.
However long it took.
Together.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.