The sound of metal rang softly as the Black Dragon Fang slipped from Jin Akasa's grasp and clattered against the cracked stone.
His body swayed, one knee buckling. Pain shot through every muscle as his breath came ragged and shallow. The storm had passed—but it had left hell behind in its wake.
The mountaintop was gone, replaced by a gaping crater. The air still smelled of burnt ozone and blood. Makino, Kuina, and Hina stood on the rim of what was once Jin's forge, staring down in silent horror at the lone figure barely standing amid the ruin.
Jin's voice came out hoarse but calm.
"Pick up the sword… all this pain wasn't for nothing. Don't let it go to waste."
Hina's throat tightened. She blinked back the tears that burned behind her eyes. "Got it," she whispered, leaping forward. Her Moon Step shimmered as she moved across the air toward him.
When she landed beside him, the sight made her heart stop.
Jin's entire body was covered in fractures—his skin blackened by Armament Haki, yet splintered like cracked glass. Beneath those fissures, faint crimson light pulsed with every heartbeat, blood seeping through the tiny breaks.
"Idiot," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You absolute idiot…"
He chuckled weakly, the sound dry and pained. "What, no congratulations for surviving divine lightning?"
"Shut up." Hina's tears fell before she could stop them. "You almost died!"
Jin smiled faintly. "Almost. But 'almost' still counts as winning."
When he tried to move, his legs gave out. The pain tore through him like knives. Hina dropped to one knee beside him, panic flooding her voice.
"Don't move. You're—you're bleeding everywhere."
He gritted his teeth, eyes half-lidded. "Yeah, feels like it. I think my insides are rearranged too. But my meridians are intact… that's something."
The casual tone didn't fool anyone. His breathing was shallow, his skin feverishly hot.
"Get me… home," he murmured, voice fading. "Makino's going to kill me if I bleed out on the hill."
Hina hesitated. She didn't even know where to touch him without making it worse.
"Just—tell me how. You're covered in cracks. I can't—"
Jin smirked, even through the agony. "Back's fine. Carry me."
Her eyes widened. "You want me to—?"
"First time I've been carried by a woman," he rasped with a weak grin. "Guess I should savor the moment."
"Idiot," she muttered again—but she turned around, crouching down so he could lean against her. She felt his weight settle across her back, heavy and solid despite the tremors in his body. Every time she moved, he groaned softly under his breath, but he didn't complain.
The sword still lay on the ground beside them, its dark blade half-buried in the dirt.
"Don't forget it," Jin said weakly. "That thing nearly got me killed. Be a waste to leave it behind."
Hina tightened her grip around his thighs to steady him, reached out, and picked up the blade with her free hand. The weapon felt strangely warm—its once-violent aura had quieted, pulsing faintly like a sleeping beast.
Then she rose into the air, the Moon Step carrying both of them off the ruined peak.
Below, Makino's heart pounded as she saw the two figures descending through the fading dust. When her eyes focused on Jin's broken body, her breath hitched.
She dropped to her knees beside them the moment they landed, her trembling hands covering her mouth.
"Oh my god… Jin—what happened—how—why…"
Hina lowered him carefully to the ground. The moment his back touched the dirt, Jin's face contorted in pain, but he still managed to force a crooked smile.
"Just… overcooked myself a bit."
Makino's tears broke free. She brushed the soot and blood from his cheek with shaking fingers.
"How can you still joke right now? You look—" She stopped herself, unable to finish.
Kuina's expression hardened as she knelt beside him. Her blue eyes were heavy with worry, her usual composure cracking. "Don't speak. Save your strength."
He shook his head, voice low but steady. "No time for that. Kuina—my medicine. The ones I gave you before. Two pills. Now."
She moved instantly, pulling a small vial from her belt. The red pills inside glimmered faintly. She pressed them to his lips and helped him swallow, her fingers trembling the entire time.
When he exhaled, his chest rose and fell a little easier, though the pain still flared behind every breath.
"Good," he whispered. "That'll keep me from bleeding out."
Makino's tears hadn't stopped. Her hands hovered helplessly over his body, afraid to touch him and cause more pain.
"You're insane," she whispered. "Completely insane. You could've—"
"Died?" He smiled faintly. "Wouldn't be the first time I've stared death down."
That bitter humor made her cry harder. "You think that's funny?"
He reached up, his cracked fingers brushing her wrist—light, careful, almost apologetic. "No. But I think you worrying about me is kind of nice."
Makino let out a broken laugh through her tears. "You're impossible…"
Hina stood aside, watching the two of them in silence, her jaw tight. She wanted to scold him too—but seeing him like this, alive yet shattered, words felt useless.
Kuina finally spoke, voice trembling. "You're not moving anywhere until your body stabilizes. The injuries—your muscles, skin, internal bleeding—this is beyond recovery without full treatment."
Jin chuckled hoarsely. "Yeah, about that. Makino, in my quarters, black chest, red jade vial inside. Mix that into a bath. I'll soak in it for a few hours… that should help with the burns."
"Bath?" Hina arched a brow. "You can barely move, and you're still thinking about baths?"
He grinned weakly. "Wouldn't want scars ruining my good looks, would I?"
That earned him a light smack from Makino, who was now wiping her tears angrily. "You're lucky you're even breathing right now."
His laughter turned into a wheezing cough. "Yeah… guess so."
By the time they carried him back to his house at the edge of Windmill Village, the sun was already dipping behind the clouds. The villagers had stopped praying, though many still glanced toward the mountain with fear and reverence.
They whispered as Makino and the girls passed, Jin's limp form slung gently across Hina's back, the black sword strapped to her arm. Some bowed. Others simply watched in silence, awe in their eyes.
Inside his workshop, the air still smelled faintly of smoke and iron.
Makino hurried to prepare the medicinal bath as Jin instructed—mixing the red jade vial's powder into steaming water until it turned faintly crimson. The scent was sharp and earthy.
When she returned, Jin was still conscious but pale, his skin cracked and bleeding faintly at the seams of his Haki layer. The others had helped strip away what was left of his burned clothes, leaving only bandages across his waist.
Makino's heart squeezed painfully at the sight.
"Alright," she said softly. "It's ready."
Jin looked up at her through half-lidded eyes. "Thanks… help me in."
Kuina and Hina exchanged glances, then nodded. Together they lifted him carefully, step by step, easing him into the steaming bath. When his body touched the water, Jin hissed sharply, gripping the sides with trembling hands.
"Burns like hell," he muttered, jaw tight.
"Hold still," Makino ordered softly, kneeling beside the tub. "It'll sting for a minute. Then the herbs will start mending the surface wounds."
He exhaled shakily, leaning his head back. The steam wrapped around him like mist.
"Feels like my body's being unstitched and re-sewn," he groaned.
Makino smiled faintly despite her tears. "That's exactly what it's doing."
Minutes passed. The water darkened with impurities—blood, scorched skin, fragments of hardened Haki breaking off. Jin's breathing began to even out, the trembling in his limbs slowly subsiding.
For the first time since the storm, peace returned to the room.
Makino sat beside the bath, watching quietly. Kuina stood at the door, arms folded, her gaze still fixed on him protectively. Hina leaned against the wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Finally, Jin opened his eyes again. His voice was quiet but steady.
"How bad did it look… from outside?"
Makino hesitated, then said softly, "Like the world was trying to erase you."
He smiled faintly. "Guess it failed."
"Barely," Hina muttered.
Jin looked at the three of them, his tone softening. "Sorry for scaring you. I didn't expect the blade to draw that much power."
Kuina shook her head. "You pushed too far again. Next time, you won't get away with just bruises and burns."
He smirked. "Next time, I'll plan better."
Makino leaned closer, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "There won't be a next time like this," she whispered, her voice trembling with both anger and relief.
Jin met her gaze and smiled gently, eyes half-lidded. "We'll see."
She sighed, then brushed a strand of his damp hair away from his forehead. For a long moment, neither spoke—the silence between them heavy but intimate, shaped by the exhaustion and quiet understanding that came after surviving death together.
Hina finally broke the silence with a faint smile. "I'll go make something light to eat. He's going to need it once he wakes up."
Kuina nodded. "I'll keep watch outside."
Makino stayed behind. As the door closed, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them—the steam, the dim light, and the faint rhythm of his breathing.
"Sleep," she said softly. "You've done enough for one day."
Jin's eyelids grew heavy. Before he drifted off, his voice rasped one last time.
"Hey… Makino."
She looked up. "What is it?"
"Thanks… for worrying."
Her chest tightened. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Idiot," she whispered. "Don't make me do it again."
His lips curved faintly, and then he slept.
The storm outside had long faded, leaving only the gentle hum of the sea beyond Windmill Village.
Inside that small home, surrounded by friends who refused to leave his side, Jin Akasa finally rested.
The world had tested him.
And he had survived.
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T/N :
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