Night came slow to the ridge.
The wind had quieted. The sky above bled indigo, pierced by stars that shimmered like the eyes of ancient things watching from the dark. Snow fell in silence. The ruin slept.
And within its fractured bones, two figures lingered.
Kaia sat with her back to a broken pillar, arms resting on her knees. Her hair — silver and wind-tangled — fluttered against her cheek as she watched the Riftborn sleep.
Rei lay curled in his cloak, breath shallow, face turned slightly toward her. His brow was furrowed — not in pain, but in thought. Dreaming, perhaps. Of Tokyo. Of glowing screens and ramen steam. Of a life so distant, it might as well have belonged to another soul.
She didn't speak. She didn't move.
She simply… stayed.
Because that was what she could offer. Not comfort. Not answers.
But presence.
He had stood his ground against a ghost of the Order — against Valen, whose very name still tasted of iron and old death. He had bled. Fallen. Risen.
And Kaia had watched.
Not because she doubted.
But because something inside her knew — if she interfered, she would take something from him. Something vital. The moment a blade learns its name.
Still, it didn't stop the ache in her chest when he hit the wall. When blood spilled. When he didn't rise right away.
"Don't steal it from me," he had whispered.
Not a demand.
A request.
So she stayed.
And now, beneath fractured stars and the shadow of that ruined tower, she finally allowed herself to feel it.
Admiration.
Pride.
And something deeper. Wordless.
Not love. Not yet.
But the way her gaze lingered on him longer than it should've. The way her fingers unconsciously curled toward the place he lay. The way her heartbeat slowed only when his breath steadied.
Perhaps, in another life, she would've denied it. Buried it.
But here, under frost and ruin and stars that felt like knives… she let it sit in her chest.
Unspoken.
But real.
I will stay, she thought.
Not because of duty. Or guilt. Or whatever the Grove might demand.
But because when the shadows rise again — and they will — he will not stand alone.
Not while she breathes.
And in the hush between snowflakes, Kaia leaned her head back against stone and whispered to no one:
"…You did well, Riftborn."