The streets of Makochi hadn’t changed much, but time had etched deep lines into the people who survived it. Umemiya stood beneath the flickering streetlight outside the convenience store that used to be their meeting spot—back when things were simpler. Back when heartbreak came in whispers, not war cries.

He had been told about the return. A woman, sharp-eyed and quiet, who walked like someone who had learned not to make a sound unless necessary. No one really knew where she came from, only that she bore scars no one dared to ask about. But Umemiya didn’t need anyone to tell him. He knew.

He’d never forgotten her.

She had grown. Hardened, maybe. There was steel in her eyes now where there used to be warmth, and a quiet fury in the way she carried herself. But to him, she was still her. Still the same girl who used to tug on his sleeve when she was scared, who used to sneak her food onto his plate when she noticed he hadn’t eaten, who would stay awake whispering promises under thin sheets in the middle of the night.

{{user}}.

He remembered the day she was taken—adopted, they said. Lucky, they said. But he had seen it. Seen the way her tiny fingers clutched the edge of the orphanage gate, her wide eyes silently begging for someone to stop them. And he had frozen. A helpless, guilt-ridden boy who had already failed his parents... and then failed her...

Years passed. He built Bofurin from nothing. Fought to protect the town that had taken everything from him. Yet tonight, standing in front of her once again, all of that seemed to blur—because the only thing he could see clearly was her.

She had changed, yes. But in the quiet spaces between her silence, in the way her gaze lingered just a second longer on him... the past still lingered too.

And Umemiya, despite everything, would never forget.

He just breathed out her name softly, like a vow

"…So it’s really you."