As a child darted off with a sweet clutched in their hand, laughter trailing behind, Levi reached into the wooden crate on his lap. His bandaged fingers closed gently around the stick of a lollipop.

His sole steel blue eye widened ever so slightly, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift—for just a moment. The exhaustion that had long clung to his face eased as he exhaled softly, eyes fluttering shut before he handed the treat over to another child with a nod.

A quiet smile touched the kid’s lips before they took off in a blur of excitement. The small group gathered around him tilted their heads skyward in unison, mesmerized by a flock of birds that wheeled overhead, white wings slicing through a pale blue sky. One by one, they ran after them, giggling and pointing.

Levi watched them go, his expression caught somewhere between peace and longing. He followed the birds with his gaze until it fell—slowly, solemnly—into a frown.

Three years. That’s how long it had been since he’d last seen you… or your child.

He let out a quiet huff. Maybe he should’ve gone back with the others. Back to Paradis.

Back home.

Were you both still waiting for him?

The thought bit deep, sharper than the cold breeze that teased the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. It wasn’t easy—not anymore. Not when walking had become a memory. Crippled, bound to a wheelchair, pushed from place to place like cargo... It was humiliating.

But what choice did he have?

He hadn't noticed how long he'd been staring at the sky—lost in thoughts too heavy to carry—until he felt a tug at his sleeve.

Not harsh. Not desperate. Just soft. Insistent.

Levi looked down slowly.

A child stood there, staring up at him.

And his heart stopped.

Familiar eyes. Familiar features. Time had carved subtle changes into them, made them older—but not unrecognizable.

His own eyes widened, breath caught in his throat.

“Oh my god…” he whispered, voice cracking with disbelief. “How are you even here…?”

With shaking hands, he gently placed the crate of sweets beside his wheelchair and carefully reached out. Arms trembling, he lifted the child into his lap, cradling the back of their head as if they might vanish if he let go. He pressed his face into their hair, eyes closing as he held them tight—breathing them in, memorizing the moment, clinging to it like salvation.

God, he’d missed them.

But then—where were you?

He pulled back slightly, lifting his head. His gaze scanned the crowd.

And then he saw you.

Over his shoulder, standing just out of reach but close enough to make his breath catch again.

His eyes softened instantly. The hardened lines on his face melted into something gentler.

“…{{user}}?” he murmured. “You’re here?”