A/N: Am I still doing this correctly? Am I still allowed to do this after years of hiatus? IDC, still love this couple and will be updating my previous works soon so I can get it out of my system.

Here's part 1 of a new story which hopefully will be completed this time.

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Cursing under his breath, Karma Akabane, took a sharp turn hoping that the shadows of the abandoned buildings were enough to hide his presence from his pursuers. With practiced precision, he used fallen debris as a leverage as he jumped to the wall, squeezing himself to a broken window of a rundown apartment building. Crouching down, he concealed himself even further by holding his breath while he listened to the echoes of the footsteps of his pursuers.

He slumped on the floor, breathing heavily as he let his body catch up as his adrenaline died down when he could no longer feel his pursuers nearby. Taking in his surroundings as he relaxed, he could only make out that he entered what was supposed to be a nursery room with pastel colors lining the walls, small dresser, and an abandoned crib. It would be a nice sight to see if not for the bullet holes along the walls and dust and rubble accumulating on the items inside the room.

Crossing the room with a sigh, he went to the already opened door to peek through the hallways making sure that there was no one else around. When he was confident enough, he closed the door and removed his ragged cloak hanging it on the crib before he sat on the stool beside the dresser. He moved swiftly, grabbing a picture frame above the dresser using his left hand while taking out his water flask from his hip with his right to ease up his drying throat. Scanning the picture of a family of four, the previous inhabitant of the place he is taking shelter at, and recalling how he should be the one already starting his family now, he can only pray that this family made it to an evacuation center or at least have themselves hidden in a bunker before the war broke out.

He placed the frame back to the dresser and took out a collection of letters from his satchel. This contains letters from his wife, the latest just being from three weeks ago when he received some intel and latest update for his mission. Reading through the letters like he hadn't already done for almost a hundred if not thousands of times, he started feeling regret again. Regret for being prideful for not having enough for her. Regret for taking up this mission instead of talking through things with his wife. He knows there's going back now. He can but he won't, not until his mission is over.

Running his gloved hand through his hair, a tint of red peeking through here and there, silently reminding that a dye is long overdue, he sighed for the umpteenth time. Missing his wife so much, he smiled as her letter ended with her perfect cursive that he can recognize anytime. He wishes he at least had a picture of her but that would only put her at risk in case it got to the wrong hands, not that he would allow it. For now, he will have to make do with her lavender smelling letter which was noticeably not fading over time regardless how many times he opens the letter, possibly thanks to one of her concoctions.

Two years and just a little bit more, he will be able to finish this damned mission. Letting another stream of curses, he stood up making sure his belongings were in his person before moving again on the shadows only stopping to have a quick look at the moon that serves as his guide. Satisfied at the broken moon shining down at him that serves as guide and mockery, he continued with his destination, this time to finish it once and for all.

TBC.

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Next chapter is in about a week, I guess? LOL