Astra looked between the two of them, something unspoken tugging at her. "Kaen… what were you two doing here? I thought I heard voices. You were talking, weren't you?"
Kaen gave a light shrug, his expression unreadable. "I was just thanking him," he said casually. "For staying close to you… while we were still searching."
"Oh…" she said softly, glancing at Akira again. A long silence followed. The wind stirred the edge of her robes. Then Kaen spoke again, his voice firmer this time. "Astra, we should go. They're waiting for you to return."
Akira turned, stepping back into the shadows. "Then I'll take my leave," he said quietly.
But before he could move, Astra took a step forward, stopping him. "Kriya… you should come with us."
Kaen parted his lips to protest, but Akira's answer came first gentle, but firm. "No. I can't."
Astra frowned, then walked up to him, standing just in front of his fading silhouette.
"I remember I promised to treat you to a meal last time… but never got the chance." Her voice was soft. "Since we've met again… why not come with us? You're alone too, aren't you?"
He opened his eyes slowly, the pale light catching the edges of his lashes. Then, faintly, he smiled. "Maybe… next time."
"But—"
Kaen's voice cut in calm, but resolute. "Astra. It's not good to press him. He might have other responsibilities. We should return before it gets too dark."
Astra looked like she wanted to argue, her brows furrowed in silent protest. But Kaen stepped closer, gently placing a hand on her arm and guiding her back.
"Wait—Kaen, I didn't even say goodbye! I have more to—!" But her voice was carried off by the wind.
Akira didn't turn. He stood still at the cliff's edge, where the stone met the sky, his eyes lifted to the heavens as the first stars blinked awake in the bruised violet dusk.
He sighed, a breath so soft it could've been mistaken for wind. And then he whispered like a secret torn from the heart."Even if fate tears my soul apart, piece by piece… I will remember her in every last fragment of mine."
A soft tap touched his shoulder. He spun around instinctively—And there she was again. Hair tousled from the wind, cheeks flushed with the rush of defiance. She stood tall, though her eyes shimmered with something softer.
"Kriya…" she said, voice low but certain, "I'm sure that the next time fate brings us together… I'll be the one to return your favor."
She extended her hand. He hesitated. But only for a second. Then, slowly, he reached out and took it.
Their fingers closed around each other's not as a farewell, but as a silent vow. And in that moment, they both spoke in sync, their voices carried into the wind,
"Until the thread pulls us back."
She smiled faintly. He said nothing, but his grip lingered a moment longer before letting go. Then she turned and disappeared into the trees, Kaen waiting just beyond. And Akira… stood alone again beneath the stars, no longer untouched by the night, but no longer entirely swallowed by it either.
—————
A thin veil of midnight mist clung to the mountaintop like an old memory, winding around the jagged stone steps that led to the Temple of Zhaoyan—the Silent Flame. Etched into a weatherworn plaque above the entrance, in faded gold characters, was her sacred title: The Flame Beneath the Lotus. An ancient goddess worshipped here, remembered not only for her beauty, but for the vengeance that once scorched the heavens.
The temple stood alone beneath the dark sky, its dragon-carved pillars blackened by time, its crimson banners barely fluttering in the windless air. lotuses bloomed around the outer court, their petals dry and brittle, whispering against each other in the stillness.
At the edge of the temple's cracked stone platform, five figures stood silently, Not one of them spoke at first. The tension hung in the air like a bowstring drawn taut.
Then, finally—
"What are we doing here, exactly?" Seiya muttered through a yawn, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "And where is Kaen? He just left alone. What if he got lost? Or walked into another ambush?"
Seirou, leaning casually against a weather-worn pillar, flicked his gaze toward the path winding down the mountain. "We're waiting," he said, voice low but even. "For Kaen. And… Astra."
Seiya blinked. "Astra? You mean—he found her?"
Seirou shrugged lazily, "Don't know. Just a guess. Seeing Ryoma like that…"
They all looked toward Ryoma.
The usually calm and precise Ryoma was pacing like a caged tiger, his boots grinding stone into dust with every pass. His eyes were locked on the path below, pupils narrowed, jaw clenched. Every few steps, he'd stop then resume, fists curling and uncurling at his sides.
Shion shifted slightly, adjusting Xue's sleeping form in his arms with quiet care. A sudden gust of wind stirred the edges of his robe, and he glanced toward the path ahead, his eyes narrowing against the chill.
Seiya's voice broke the silence, softer this time, laced with worry. "What if… they both got lost?"
Seirou didn't answer right away. He exhaled through his nose, slow and steady, then shook his head with quiet certainty. "They won't."
Ryoma stopped pacing.
Something shifted in his posture—barely noticeable, but enough. Every head turned in unison toward the winding path below the mountain.
And then they saw them.
Two silhouettes emerging from the dark… Kaen and Astra. The wind tugged at Astra's torn robes as she limped beside him, her voice barely audible from afar. The moment recognition struck, the stillness shattered.
They moved.
In an instant, all of them rushed down the temple steps at full speed, boots pounding against stone and earth.
Astra was speaking rapidly, her voice trembling. "I thought I was going to die, I really thought I was! he kept throwing me into trees, again and again—and his eyes, Kaen, they were burning—"
Kaen didn't speak. His usual calm, composed mask was still on, but there were visible cracks. His eyes, flickered with something raw and dangerous. He kept glancing at her between steps, each bruise she mentioned chiseling deeper into whatever restraint he had left.Then Astra fell silent.
Ryoma had reached them. He stopped just in front of her, chest rising and falling, eyes locked on hers. He said nothing at first just stared, as if trying to make sure she was really there and not some illusion conjured by fatigue and fear.
Then, without a word, he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.
Astra's eyes widened. She froze, breath caught in her throat, stunned by the sudden warmth of his embrace. For a heartbeat, she didn't move then, slowly, her arms hovered, uncertain, before falling back to her sides.
"Ryoma…?" she whispered, unsure if he even heard.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, and his eyes darted over her face bruises along her cheekbone, a split lip, a faint cut across her jaw. Then down her neck, her wrists, her hands—scratched, bloodied, trembling.
His jaw tightened. Anger wasn't loud in him. It was silent, molten, barely contained. When his gaze landed on the wrapped cloth around her arm, he instinctively reached forward but Astra flinched.
"Ah—!" she winced, pulling back. "It still hurts! Careful…"
Ryoma immediately withdrew his hand, She looked past Ryoma's shoulder—eyes locking onto the figures rushing toward them. Seiya was in front, breathless, Shion followed, still cradling Xue, his eyes narrowed with unspoken questions, A few steps behind, Seirou walked with his usual calm, but watching closely.
Astra let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Relief washed over her like warmth after a long storm. And without a second thought, she stepped past Ryoma and ran straight toward them.
They didn't say anything at first.
They just watched her scanning every bruise, every tear in her robe, every limp in her step. And she, in turn, looked at each of them eyes shining, lips trembling—not with fear, but with the overwhelming, quiet joy of seeing them again. Like she was home.