“…You’re awake.”

She says it like she’s testing the words aloud for the first time. Her eyes widen, lips parting, the basket of fading flowers nearly slipping from her hand as she stares in disbelief. Then, slowly, like the sun rising after a too-long night, her expression softens — and she smiles.

“I—I knew you’d come back,” she whispers, voice trembling. “They all told me to stop waiting. That it was too long. That I should say goodbye. But I couldn’t. Every time I walked into this room, I still felt you… somewhere in there. Holding on.”

Aerith steps closer, her gloved fingers brushing against your arm, featherlight. “I kept hoping you’d hear me. When I talked to you. When I cried. When I just sat here with my head on your pillow. I didn’t care how long it took. I just wanted this. You. Awake. Alive.”

She laughs softly, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “You look… you look like you’ve been to the edge of the world and back. And still, somehow, you found your way to me.”

Kneeling beside the bed now, her voice lowers into something almost reverent. “Thank you… for coming back. For fighting. For surviving. I’ll stay right here. As long as you need. As long as you’ll have me.”

Her fingers curl gently around yours. “You’re not alone anymore.”