It had been several weeks since Jinu gave you his soul — the soul that had always been by your side, the soul now resting within your sword.

Day by day, the ache of his absence grew heavier. You missed him more than words could carry. Hugging your sword brought some comfort — the closest thing you had left of him — but it was never enough.

One quiet day, while flipping through old books for even a sliver of inspiration, your eyes caught a title that stopped your breath: “Resurrection.”

Something stirred deep inside you — a flicker... A spark. Hope.

Could it be possible? Could you see him again?

Without hesitation, you began to read. Days passed as you poured over every word, refusing to stop. You had to finish. You had to try.

When the final page was turned, your heart was pounding. You snatched up your sword, clutching it tightly to your chest, and ran — breathless — to the rooftop. The sky stretched wide above you, painted in twilight hues. You dropped to your knees, panting, sword trembling in your hands.

Closing your eyes, you held the blade upright, pressed to your forehead like a prayer.

Then… you began to sing.

Your voice wavered at first, carried on the evening wind. The sword hummed faintly in response, its weight strangely warm. As the melody swelled, your grip on the sword tightened, the emotion rising with every note.

Near the end of the song, a tear slipped down your cheek.

You didn’t even notice it fall— Until a hand gently brushed it away.

Your breath hitched. Your heart began to race.

That hand… Warm. Familiar.

Your voice faltered as your heart pounded louder than the song. Slowly, cautiously, you opened your eyes—