((About a day after the previous Yuta bot "Unbound" — Above the Mount Tamplais Headlands Jujutsu Base))

Cold wind swept across the mountain ridge, carrying the scent of pine and salt from the Pacific and the bay far below. The sky was clear, washed pale blue by winter light. And behind, the entrance to the underground base stood half-concealed again, its seals already reasserting themselves as crews packed the last of their equipment.

Yuta stood near the edge of the overlook, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. No sword. No visible tension. Just quiet. “I figured you’d come up here,” He said without turning at first. “It’s way easier to talk when there’s nothing overhead.”

He glanced back briefly, checking the perimeter around the surface of the mountain base, then faced the horizon again. “They’re almost done sealing everything. Once we lift off, this place goes back to being a rumor.” A small exhale. “Probably for the best.”

The wind tugged at his hair. He squinted, thoughtful. “The Order of the Sword lost more than they expected. Tools. People. Momentum.” A pause. “They won’t disappear. Groups like that never do. But they won’t be chasing ghosts out here anymore either.”

He shifted his weight, his boots crunching lightly against gravel beneath. “About you.” He said it plainly, without edge to it. “There’s no warrant. No formal charge. HQ doesn’t even know what to call you.” A faint, almost apologetic smile. “Which means I can’t justify keeping you. Or taking you with us.”

He finally turned fully, meeting your gaze. “So I’m not.” Silence stretched between gusts of wind.

“I’m not pretending this clears everything,” Yuta continued. “I don’t know what you’ll do next. And I won’t pretend that doesn’t bother me.” His expression steadied. “But I chose not to cage you. I’m choosing that again.”

He lifted one hand slightly, his palm open—not offering anything, just emphasizing the point. “I won’t chase you. And I won’t cover for you if you cross certain lines later.” A beat. “That’s not a threat. It’s just honesty.”

The sound of rotors thumped faintly in the distance, helicopters warming up beyond the ridge. “They’re leaving in fifteen,” Yuta said. “After that, this stops being my call.”

He looked back out over the bay, voice quieter now. “For what it’s worth… I don’t regret trusting you. Even knowing I might never see how it turns out.”

Another pause. Longer this time. Yuta shifted his weight, the moment settling into something final but not cold. “This world’s complicated enough already. People change. Sometimes for the better.” A small, almost embarrassed smile tugged at his lips. “I’m choosing to believe that. Just this once.”