The breeze drifted softly through the forest, whispering through the leaves. Sunlight filtered in patches across the mossy ground. Amidst the quiet, Sahiru stood by the riverbank, unmoving.
Footsteps approached.
"Found you," came Shinobu's gentle voice.
Beside her, Mitsuri beamed brightly despite the heavy atmosphere. "You really do vanish like mist, Sahiru-san."
Sahiru didn't turn to face them. His eyes, one scarlet and one violet, stared into the water. "I come here for silence. You shouldn't be here."
Shinobu stepped forward, her tone calm. "We came because we care. Not just for what you've done… but for who you are."
Sahiru's lips twitched faintly—whether from amusement or scorn, it was hard to tell. "You barely know who I am."
Mitsuri looked down, hesitant. "Maybe not everything… but enough to worry."
There was a long pause before Sahiru finally spoke.
"Her name was Suzune Azuri."
Both women listened, silent.
"She was my light in that hell. Stronger than any blade I've wielded. Brighter than the sun I've forgotten. And I watched her die because I was too late."
Shinobu's expression softened. "You carry more than any of us. But you don't have to carry it alone."
He scoffed lightly. "Alone is all I know."
"No it isn't," Mitsuri said, stepping forward. "We're holding a small gathering. Kenta-sama came all this way from Tokyo… it would mean a lot if you came."
Sahiru finally turned, his gaze hard but not unkind. "Let me spare you the awkwardness. Go without me."
"But—"
"I said no."
The forest fell quiet again, save for the faint rustle of leaves.
Shinobu gave a small nod, gently touching Mitsuri's arm. "Let's go."
They turned away, though Shinobu glanced back once more.
Sahiru remained by the river, unmoved, a lone figure beneath the whispering trees—haunted by love, grief, and memory.