SAI SHINU
I turned toward Namae. "I will go meet one person now. If you want, you can stay here."
She shook her head lightly. "No, it's fine. This is your private space. I'll go rest — I'm feeling tired."
I opened the door for her, my hand lingering for a moment. "I think that's the best thing you can do right now."
She gave me a small, reassuring smile before stepping out, her presence leaving a gentle warmth in the room.
Alone, I paused for a moment, collecting my thoughts. Yuri… it had been too long. I traced my steps through the corridors, heading toward Taro's quarters, assuming that Yuri's room would be nearby — after all, he was her father. My heartbeat quickened slightly with each step, memories of the past and hope for the present intertwining.
When I reached Taro, he greeted me with a nod, his calm demeanor steadying the anxiety knotting my chest.
"Yuri hasn't woken up yet," Taro said quietly.
I felt a flicker of frustration and concern. "Do you know when she might?"
Taro shook his head but reached into his pocket, pulling out a small key. "Take this. It'll let you enter her room. Be careful — don't disturb her more than necessary."
I took the key, gripping it tightly. "Thank you. I won't."
Even as I approached her door, my mind raced. Hours, maybe years, of separation, and yet the anticipation of seeing her again made every step feel heavier and lighter at the same time. I steadied myself, took a deep breath, and turned the key.
The room lay quiet, bathed in soft morning light. Yuri was still asleep, peaceful, unaware of the world outside — of the battles, the blood, the pain. For a moment, I simply stood there, watching her, letting the weight of relief and nostalgia wash over me.
This was the moment I had been waiting for — and yet, all the complexities of the past few years threatened to spill over the fragile calm of this room.
I stood at the foot of her bed, taking in every detail. Her purple hair caught the morning light, spilling across the pillow like a river of silk. She looked so peaceful, untouched by all the chaos and destruction I'd seen. For a long moment, I just watched her, letting her presence anchor me after three long years.
Slowly, I knelt beside the bed. My hand reached out, gently moving a strand of her hair behind her ear.
She stirred slightly, her voice sleepy and muffled. "Please… father… let me sleep more."
I smiled softly, brushing her cheek with my thumb. "Not yet," I whispered, my voice low but warm. "It's time to wake up, Yuri… but I'm here now."
Her eyelids flickered open, hesitant at first. And then our eyes met. All the time apart, all the pain, all the longing — it hit her like a tidal wave. Tears welled instantly in her violet eyes.
I didn't wait. I leaned forward and pulled her into my arms. She gasped, then let herself collapse against me, sobs muffled against my chest. I held her tightly, rocking just slightly, letting her release everything — the fear, the worry, the loneliness.
"I… I missed you so much," she whispered, her voice shaking.
"I missed you too," I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Every single day, Yuri."
Her hands clutched at my back as if to anchor herself to reality, to make sure I was really here. I lifted her face, brushing a tear from her cheek, and pressed my forehead against hers. "I'm here, Yuri. I won't leave."
Her tears fell freely now, and I kissed her lips softly, savoring the moment, letting the world outside fade away. She responded immediately, her hands threading into my hair, pulling me closer as if afraid I might vanish. I deepened the kiss, feeling her tremble against me.
We broke apart only for air, resting our foreheads together. "I… I thought I'd never see you again," she murmured, her voice trembling.
"Never again," I said, holding her face gently. "I promise. I'll always protect you, Yuri. Always."
She pressed another short, lingering kiss to my lips, just to confirm, just to taste, just to be sure it was real. I held her tighter, letting her body settle against mine. For the first time in three years, we were together — truly together. In that soft morning light, I vowed silently: nothing would ever take her from me again.