The world had returned.

Skyscrapers rose again. Cities buzzed with life. The Stone World was no more—just a memory etched into the bones of those who survived it.

And Tsukasa Shishio?

He stood at the edge of a rooftop garden, watching the city breathe beneath him. The wind tugged at his long hair, the scent of blooming jasmine drifting on the breeze. His hands—once used to crush stone and silence enemies—now held a watering can.

You approached quietly, not wanting to disturb him. But he sensed you anyway.

“You’re up early,” he said, voice low and calm.

“So are you,” you replied, stepping beside him. “Didn’t think you were the gardening type.”

He gave a faint smile. “I wasn’t. But I’m learning.”

You watched him tend to the plants—gentle, deliberate, almost reverent. It was strange, seeing him like this. Not as a warrior. Not as a leader. Just… a man trying to grow something.

“Do you miss it?” you asked. “The Stone World?”

He paused. “Sometimes. It was brutal. But it was simple. I knew who I was.”

“And now?”

He looked at you, eyes softer than you remembered. “Now I’m not sure. I’m not needed the same way. There’s no empire to protect. No enemies to fight.”

You reached for his hand, calloused and warm. “You’re still needed. Just… differently.”

He looked down at your fingers laced with his. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“You don’t have to be anything else,” you said. “Just be here. With me.”

He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing. “That… I can do.”

And in that quiet rooftop garden, with the city waking below and the past behind you, Tsukasa let himself believe that peace could be more than a pause between battles.

It could be a life.