Thank you for your patience, thank you Sherlock for putting this chapter on your back as usual, and thank you to everyone on the discord for fueling me.
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If you're into One Piece, check out Sword of Ohara! My Shirou in that one's gonna be fun too. Please expect more updates for that (and everything else) promptly.
As usual, the illustration will be posted once I close the poll.
X
X
"Yes, Fuji-nee. I'm fine."
He allowed the woman to say whatever it was that she had to say, but he was only half paying attention. Shirou was staring up at the train's ceiling emptily.
He almost missed her question when it came.
"No, I can't come back yet. I'm sorry."
She raised her voice. With how quiet the train was, he was sure that other passengers could have heard her.
"How do you know I left London, anyway? Did you speak with Rin?"
That was the wrong thing to ask. Her voice got even louder. Shirou could only sigh and pull the device away, tiredly rubbing his eyes before he returned it to his ear. "Please don't yell."
His voice was small.
Mercifully, the other side quietened. He watched the scenery speed by outside as the conversation started up again.
"I'm fine. Really."
She rattled on, indignant.
"… I am happy." He insisted, sounding tired.
The conversation was getting heated again, and Shirou patiently waited for her to take a breath.
"… It's something I have to do. That's all I can say."
More yelling.
"You don't have to worry about me, I can take care of myself, Fuji-nee."
Silence. More conversation. Tentative, this time. A question.
"… soon." He finally said after a long while. "I promise."
Shirou dropped the call.
He'd call her back later, he told himself. Eventually.
For a moment longer, he continued to stare at the device's black screen emptily.
He really did feel lost.
The Paris Expo—and the IS on display—was a dead end for him, but the world's nations had different priorities. Last he'd heard, the United States of America had increased their military budget by thirteen percent: a massive number considering the hundreds of billions they already spent each year.
The entirety of that increase was, allegedly, for the sole purpose of funding an Infinite Stratos frame. It was ironic—or perhaps simply the most logical outcome—considering they lost a sizable chunk of their military infrastructure following the disastrous attempt at retrieving the White Knight.
Such was the case for most countries right now. An arms race of the likes the world had never seen before had taken over everything. Wargrounds were abandoned as nations of all sizes shifted their priorities away from large-scale conflict and toward achieving the greatest super-weapon ever conceived. Countries undergoing civil wars had undergone unprecedented ceasefires, determined not to be left behind.
He had told Rin that he had to leave London behind, to pursue his dream while he still could… and what did he have to show for it? He did save people, here and there: busting organised crime rings, fighting errant dead apostles, and even helping out in more mundane first response cases whenever they arose, but…
Shirou dully realised he was watching the footage of the Shirokishi again, that familiar cocktail of bitterness and admiration bubbling within him.
… Was the gap between them so overwhelming? Between where he was now and the hero of justice he strived to be?
He wasn't so delusional as to think that he could be everywhere at once. Even if he stayed in London, there would have been ample opportunity to do all of this. And so, if this was all that he was really able to accomplish, how could he justify leaving everything behind in the first place?
Rin might have been right. Tohsaka—damn it all—might have been right.
He wasn't done trying, though. Not yet. Not without something to show for it.
If he looked back, he was lost.
The train came to a stop. With as little baggage as he had with him, he was able to disembark in seconds, dumping an empty sandwich carton into one of the trash receptacles on the platform. He observed the sign, written in German, denoting the name of the stop at which he'd arrived.
He'd heard rumours: that Germany was training a group of child soldiers for reasons possibly related to the Infinite Stratos. He was here to investigate that: to either prove it wrong or intervene if it wasn't.
His every step was purposeful, yet heavy.
It had been… three years—almost four—since he'd left. Since he'd seen his friends and family.
He was alone.
X
X
Chifuyu was acting moody. She knew this.
Ever since she got home, the woman had been tight-lipped and irritable. Even when they sat down for dinner, she didn't really manage to greet the meal with the level of enthusiasm she thought it deserved. Or the enthusiasm she thought her husband deserved, for that matter.
It wasn't right, and yet, she was having a tough time hiding it. Around anyone else she would have an easier time putting on airs, but…
Shirou leaned forward and dropped a few more gyoza onto her plate. She looked up to see him smiling brightly at her.
She knew that he knew that she was in a crappy mood, but he didn't say anything. She appreciated it, and yet it just added to the guilt that she felt.
They had a strong relationship. A trusting one. They knew more about each other than Chifuyu ever thought she'd be comfortable knowing or sharing with another person, to the extent that neither of them could be proud, and yet, here they were.
They didn't really keep secrets. Or at least, not when it came to things that needed to be shared. She didn't tell him every stupid little thing that her students did and he didn't tell her about every chore that he needed to manage when dealing with his clients.
It wasn't that they didn't care about each other's day, but it could be said that they were both particularly in tune with what the other person tended to care about in general. Those things being their own relationship, their well-being, and the well-being of the people close to them.
And, in the case of her husband, his dream.
They didn't need to interrogate each other about such things because they knew that anything that should be said, would be said.
Chifuyu was careful about topics that would do nothing but cause unnecessary pain. Like when a certain Tohsaka-san had reached out to her out of the blue before the marriage. She didn't tell Shirou about that: neither what was discussed nor the fact it even happened. She didn't lose any sleep over not telling him because she knew that it would change nothing.
Tohsaka-san didn't want his empathy: she was sure of it.
Why, then, was now any different? Why was she so reluctant to speak about the IS that attacked the academy the other day? It was important. Shirou should know about this.
"You've got a lot on your mind," he finally remarked, dropping his chin onto his palm.
Good. This was the part where she told him.
She sighed.
"The school's preparing for another tournament all of a sudden. All the extra fuss is fraying my nerves, is all."
Shirou quirked a brow.
"So soon? I don't remember there being so many," he remarked.
"Mm," she acknowledged, using her chopsticks to play with the gyoza. "It'll be a tag-team match this time. Hopefully they'll learn how important teamwork is. Ah! We're getting a new transfer student soon, too, come to think of it."
She chickened out again.
She failed to mention why they were having another tournament. That the school felt as though the students needed more pilot training in light of what had been labelled as a terrorist attack.
Her husband blinked confusedly.
"A transfer student now? There's been quite a few of them lately."
She managed a laugh.
"You don't need to tell me! I guess the circumstances are pretty unique. He's a boy, just like Ichika. Apparently, his case isn't as unique as we thought it was."
His jaw dropped.
"Seriously?"
Chifuyu understood his disbelief—she didn't believe it either, at first.
"Mm. I was surprised too."
"I was under the impression the only reason your brother could pilot one was due to his relation to you." He chewed, thoughtful. "You don't suppose this new pilot is a long-lost sibling of yours?"
She snorted before pulling out her phone and showing him the article.
"See?" She pointed at the boy's picture. "Boy Wonder: Charles Dunois. Long-lost son of the CEO of Dunois Industries. Probably an illegitimate child. It's the largest IS-production and development corporation in France. It's pretty serendipitous for them considering—"
"That's a girl."
"Eh?"
"A girl," he repeated. "She's crossdressing."
"No he isn't—"
"Chifuyu, I have plenty of personal experience with women pretending to be men. Trust me, that's a girl."
"Wha—give me that!"
She swiped her phone back and glared at the screen closely. Slowly, her eyes widened.
"Holy shit!"
"Yeah."
"I mean, it's—"
"Yeah."
"I mean, it's obvious to me now that you pointed it out, but how in the hell were you able to figure that out at a glance?"
"I'm good at what I do," he joked, a wry smile crossing his lips.
She snorted, but her amusement quickly melted away as she processed the implications of it all.
How could it even cross anyone's mind that this was a good idea?
They had been doing poorly recently, not having managed to come out with a third generation IS. Was this publicity stunt an attempt to receive more funding and public interest? If so, this was ridiculously short-sighted.
It would net them three years of boosted production at the most until "Charles" would graduate and the sham would all crumble to pieces at their feet. That was assuming it all went well and that no one picked the ruse apart before then. It wasn't like they did a great job of making that girl look like a boy; it was only their reputation and the general understanding that no one had the sheer audacity or was stupid enough to do this that stopped anyone from figuring them out on the spot.
"What does Dunois even gain from this?" she wondered aloud.
Shirou's brow scrunched up as it tended to do when he was deep in thought.
"Maybe they want the girl to get close to Ichika?" he proposed. "It's not crazy to think that they think they can figure out how he's able to be a pilot."
She stilled. Silent rage bubbled beneath her skin.
"... Or that they think they can steal his IS to see what's so special about it that makes it so that a male can pilot it." She muttered slowly.
Shirou paused mid-chew.
"Well, I suppose that's a possibility too."
Chifuyu would be the first one to admit that she had little tolerance for bullshit, but she liked to think that she knew how to keep her cool. Very few things would actually make her blow her top off.
Someone threatening to take advantage of her little brother was one of those things.
"Fuck that," she hissed. "We don't have to put up with this. I'll talk to the board tomorrow. Dunois will be out of here on the spot."
Shirou frowned.
"There's no reason to be hasty, is there? It's all just speculation for now. Besides: it'll just be more work for you later if you do get the kid kicked out. Go easy on her: I doubt that a fifteen-year-old girl is exactly thrilled about doing this. Give it a little while, at least. Ichika will be just fine."
Her husband got up and grabbed the plates. It was clear to him that she had lost her appetite so he might as well clean up now.
She kept her frown in place for a moment longer before deflating.
"I know he'll be fine," she admitted. "It's not like this kid's plans will go anywhere with all the security around. Besides, he's a big kid. Ichika can take care of himself now. He's certainly demonstrated as much."
The statement turned glum at the end.
Her husband poked her head out from the kitchen, wiping a plate.
"Are you sure that you can't come with me next week? We can make a holiday of it, take your mind off what's troubling you. It'd be like Baden-Baden again."
"I told you already, I'm too busy." she reminded him. "If I let things pile up now, I'll be swamped."
"That's a shame." Shirou smiled. "She always asks about you. I'm sure it's no trouble at all for you to tag along, she'd love to have you over."
Chifuyu snorted. "No offence, Shirou, but her ways of showing her endearment can be a little much."
It was clear from his body language that he met her remark with equal parts acknowledgement and amusement. Shirou walked back over to wrap his arms around her neck and kiss her on the cheek.
"Don't worry about it for now," he asked her. "Is there something I can do to help you wind down? Can I get you anything?"
She thought about it for a moment before a coy smile crossed her lips.
"I don't know… While I still have the energy, I'd rather we go to bed."
She looked up at him and placed a hand over his.
He feigned confusion, giving her a wide-eyed look.
"Really? So soon?"
"Well… if you're saying you'd rather not—Ah!"
She giggled as he pulled her in toward his chest and nibbled on her neck. She leaned into him, giving him the opportunity to pick her up right out of the chair and carry her away.
Her giggles were cut short by a kiss that didn't end until they were out of the room.
X
A blonde guy his age—he looked like a real pretty-boy type—stood at the front of the class with equal parts eagerness and fear. Both of those feelings he understood very well.
"Everyone. Please greet… Charles Dunois, your newest classmate. In light of him only being the second… male IS pilot ever, the circumstances of his transfer are a bit unique. Please treat him well, I guess."
Though his sister's words were polite, Ichika couldn't help but think that her tone was unusually cold. It was said with such a lack of emotion that even he felt a little uncomfortable.
He was likely the only person who noticed, though.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"A boy! Another boy! It's a boy! Ahahaha!"
"Oh my gosh he's adorable~!"
"I wonder what he smells like?"
"I bet it's—"
He tuned out his classmates right then. It was obvious that they had other priorities.
Not that he couldn't understand their surprise. For there to be another guy at this school was admittedly a shock.
A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.
Ichika was a little nervous, actually. He basically had to get along with Charles, right? They were the only two of their kind here. It would be nice to have another boy his age to commiserate with.
"Dunois, you can take Alcott's seat. Alcott, you don't mind taking the empty one next to Ichika, do you?"
No one knew why the teacher was making them jump through all these hoops instead of just asking Charles to take the empty seat of himself, but Cecilia quickly forgot her confusion and squealed excitedly.
"Sure!" she agreed easily. Within seconds, the british representative candidate was next to him, her smile beaming into the side of his head quite noticeably.
He ignored that for now.
…With all of this being said, was he flakey for feeling relieved that Chifuyu wasn't making the guy take the empty seat next to him? Sure, he'd love to chat, but all that extra kerfuffle that would surely come from his classmates swarming the new boy first thing in the morning was just too much. He'd make sure to greet him properly after class.
Chifuyu cleared her throat.
"Well?" she asked, quirking a brow at the new boy. He wasn't moving fast enough for her apparently. "What are you waiting for? Get a move on."
Ichika blinked.
Wow. That was pretty harsh. Even for her.
Charles scrambled a little bit—the poor guy was clearly flustered—but he made sure to hurry after that.
"Y-yes! Of course!" he stuttered out.
Damn.
As he passed him by, Ichika tapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. Charles was so out of sorts that he jumped a little at Ichika's touch.
"Don't mind her," he whispered. "She's always a little scary, but she means we—OOF!"
He was nailed in the face by a text book.
"What the hell did I do!?" he shrieked at his sister. The crazy woman let out an unimpressed huff and tried to get everyone settled for the start of homeroom.
As he nursed his abused temple, Ichika could only reflect on the woman's foul mood. He wasn't just imagining it: her fuse was particularly short today.
Poor Charles. The guy was staring at him as though he had just witnessed a murder.
Well, so much for first impressions.
X
When lunch came around, things happened as they usually did. He grabbed a seat at the cafeteria, Houki followed him, then Cecilia, then Rin… and then any pretence of pleasant conversation was shattered once they started arguing with each other. Ichika didn't bother trying to break them up, knowing that it was a lost cause.
The difference was the newest member joining them today: the new boy, Charles. Ichika was pretty proud of himself, dragging him out here like this. It wasn't easy getting past the rabid girls hounding the poor guy, but this way he'd be one step closer to achieving his goal of having a totally normal male friendship that didn't involve psychosis and possibly BPD.
"How are you feeling, Charles?" he asked him sympathetically. "I feel really bad about this morning."
Miraculously, they heard him over their squabbling.
"Hm?" Houki piped up, the pit of her elbow wrapped halfway around Cecilia's neck.
Charles stammered and waved his hands in front of him disarmingly.
"No, no! Er… I'm sure it was… how to say…"
Ichika frowned.
"You don't have to play it off. Chifuyu was being awful to you all day! More than usual. When we went off to our changing rooms for our practicals she stood outside and glared at you, as if daring you to go in! It's like she's holding a grudge or something. She's not usually that bad, is she?"
The question was directed toward the others. They shared unsure glances.
"Well…"
"I mean…"
"I, uh…"
"Maybe it's just that time of the month?" Cecilia proposed. She received a few unimpressed looks.
"It's probably just stress," Houki offered, either trying to uphold a different perspective on things or simply wanting to contradict Cecilia on principle. "She's had to deal with most of the fallout of all the crazy stuff that's happened the past few days, right? Warding off the media, dealing with other staff members, reassuring the students, having to deal with a sudden transfer student on top of it all…"
She trailed off unconfidently but the point had been made. Ichika would have gone as far as to say that it was a good one.
"Maybe she's just, like, super racist? I dunno."
They all stared owlishly at Rin. The girl crossed her arms.
"Hey! What's with those looks?"
"Even if that were true," Ichika started flatly, side-eyeing a clearly uncomfortable Charles. "What would anyone, let alone Chifuyu-nee, have against the French?"
"If I may interject…" Cecilia Alcott, representative candidate of England, put her food down in a fashion that was somehow overly conspicuous. They all turned back to her.
Noticing that she had inadvertently made herself the centre of attention once more, the blonde girl stuttered out nonsense before finally figuring what she wanted to say.
"Well! You see, an uncle of mine—not me, of course—is often one to bring up misgivings that he has with their ilk."
Charles narrowed his eyes at the babbling woman but held his tongue for now. Ichika seemed to be the only one to have noticed; it felt like watching a bomb go off in slow motion.
Cecilia laughed nervously.
"Good old uncle Hector. He used to say the darndest things. He'd assure us at every family gathering that, no matter what language he'd use to refer to any other segment of the population, he still hated the French the most and spent a not-insignificant amount of time actively denigrating them."
Ichika's stomach dropped. What the hell was she going on about? A quick glance at Charles told him that the boy wasn't any more impressed than he was.
"How charming," Charles remarked dryly.
Ichika coughed.
"I think that's—"
"He'd call them stuck-up, lazy, lacking in passion, unwilling to progress as a country, invasive, perverted, lacking in morals—"
"Nique ta mère!" Charles snapped suddenly. The boy leaned forward to let his fellow blonde see his adorably mean mug. Ichika had no idea what he just said but it sounded aggressive enough to be bad.
Cecilia gasped and brought a dainty hand up to her chest, acting surprised as though she hadn't just enumerated several awful stereotypes right to his face.
"Cecilia, if you don't have anything worthwhile to add—"
"No, no, I was going somewhere with this, Ichika, I swear!" Cecilia hurriedly assured him. "As I was saying, he wasn't always like this. Back when he was a pianist on the European competition circuit, there was this one violinist: a French girl who made his acquaintance back in the day: they got along fairly well at the time, going out for dinners together every so often."
"... That sounds nice." Lingyin remarked.
"Opinions varied." Cecilia brushed her off. "My uncle told us that he only ever saw the two of them as friends, but she later made some romantic overtures that he ended up ignoring and pretending didn't happen."
Ichika blinked. "That sounds horrible."
"It does, doesn't it?" For some reason, Houki and Rin were glaring at him again.
Cecilia sighed. "My uncle's an old-fashioned gentleman, whilst the French woman was…" she drummed her fingers, "a freer sort."
Ichika narrowed his eyes, clearly not understanding where she was going with all this. What did she mean by "a freer sort"?
"Like a…" he trailed off, waiting for her explanation.
"It was the sixties: they were all protesting something. Anyway," Cecilia went on. "He told us that in retrospect, he did lead her on before that – greeting her with flowers at the airports, painting a portrait of hers, planning short excursions together for the far future when they had the time… he didn't mean to give her the impression he was romantically interested, but it was what it was. She was very hurt at the end of it all and made it clear to him how upset she was."
Lingyin looked troubled. "Your uncle's rather insensitive, isn't he? I mean, flowers are one thing, but painting and gifting a portrait of her is a little…"
"I don't know." Ichika shook his head. "That still sounds like something you can do just as friends."
"Yes, you'd certainly think so, wouldn't you?" Lingyin gave him an unamused look.
"Is there a point to this story at all?" Houki muttered. Ah. She came out and said it.
"I'm getting to that, don't be impatient! Mummy told us that he started harping about the French a little more afterwards, making jokes at their expense, saying that the only good thing between Britain and France was the sea…"
"Cecilia…"
"The point is," Cecilia looked thoughtful. "Mummy thinks that he only leaned into these jokes and denigrations to cover up the shame he felt over treating her horribly. Maybe Orimura-sensei is troubled by something else in her life that she regrets and is taking it out on the next convenient target that slightly provokes her ire."
Ichika blinked. Something his sister regretted? It didn't quite sound like Chifuyu at all. She seemed the type to think that regret was unprofessional, always forging ahead. The idea that someone as strong as his sister who raised him had regrets…
It left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Yes." the British girl smiled beatifically. "So perhaps the convenient appearance of Charles, a cheese-eating surrender monkey–"
That just about sent Charles over the edge. Before he could lunge at her, Ichika held him down.
"Let's all calm down for a moment, okay!?" he pleaded, yet Charles continued to struggle.
"Let me go Ichika! She insulted my people. I will stand my ground."
"Wow. Wouldn't that be a first," Cecilia muttered under her breath.
Ichika wanted to cry.
While the situation degenerated, Houki and Rin continued to watch in amazement.
"Is this a national rivalry thing?" the Japanese girl asked, full of unearned self-importance. "Honestly, it's so childish! I can't imagine hating a group of people this much based solely on their country of origin."
Huang Lingyin, representative candidate of the People's Republic of China, swivelled her head like a gun turret, expression stony.
"You can't? Really?"
It was as the blood drained from his face at what was to come that Ichika decided right then and there that decisive action needed to be taken.
"Ha… hahaha!" His laugh was so forced that he almost cringed. "My home cooked bento sure is tasty! What did you guys bring for lunch today!?"
He sounded like a host on a children's show, only he had to yell because those children were hard of hearing… or something.
It did the trick, though.
"Oh! You should try mine, Ichika! You'll love it!" Rin assured him, her grimace flipping into a smile almost immediately. "It's qing jiao rou si!"
"Mine first! It's shrimp tempura! I worked really hard on it, you know." Houki twitched. "N-not that I wanted you to try it! It's just—"
"Oh, Ichika. Your bento really does look lovely. Why don't you give me a bite?" Cecilia suggested, leaning into him while expertly ignoring the daggers that Charles' eyes were throwing at her.
Realising that the stakes had been raised, all three of them turned into rabid animals again. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that his plan was entirely successful.
He decided to take a third option.
"Hey, uh… Charles?" he tried, smiling sheepishly as he lifted a tako sausage with his chopsticks. "Would you like to try?"
He could salvage this much, surely.
The other boy blinked before offering him a small smile.
"Oh! Okay."
And take a bite he did.
The girls stopped in their tracks, processed what just happened, then redoubled their lunacy.
Ichika weeped. Things couldn't possibly get any worse, at least.
X
A few days later, things got worse.
There was another transfer student. A particularly short girl with silver hair and an honest-to-god eyepatch strapped to her face. The kind that pirates and hardasses in action movies wore. Or the kind Big Boss had.
The impression she gave with her attire didn't need much description: she was a 'soldier'. Though she stood at a height smaller than a sizable chunk of the class, the sheer aura she exuded cast a large shadow.
"I am Laura Bodewig," she announced, offering no context beyond that.
Please leave.
Ichika felt her piercing stare on him, though he tried his best to ignore it. He was used to all the extra attention by now, but Charles was here now, too, wasn't he? Couldn't the crazies pick the other one for once?
Maybe if I don't make eye contact, she'd go away..?
"You," she intoned icily. Surely she wasn't speaking to him, right? Of course not. He wasn't looking her way so she didn't exist. He was stock still. The T-rex's eyesight is based on movement. As long as—
Slap!
His turned cheek was forced a hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction as the diminutive transfer student's palm dragged across his face.
The classroom, which had until now been alight with a lowly buzzing chatter, quickly fell dead silent. As far gone as this place was, assaulting a complete stranger from the jump was still seen as a cause for alarm it would seem.
Everyone was staring at them with mouths agape.
"What the hell was that for!?" he shouted at her.
The girl did an excellent job of keeping a straight face.
"I don't acknowledge you," was her uninformative reply. No apology, no explanation, no nothing.
Ichika bit his cheek. It took every bit of his willpower not to hit her back.
"As what?" he hissed. As a student? As a human being deserving of common decency?
"I don't acknowledge you as Instructor Orimura's brother," she finally elaborated, as sucky of an elaboration as it was. "You're pathetic," she added for good measure.
The statement was followed by an extended silence that didn't feel like it belonged for some reason. It was like a circus missing its main act, only none of the spectators knew what that act was supposed to be.
"...Where is Instructor Orimura?" the new tiny crazy chick asked after a moment.
They all turned to Miss Yamada, the assistant teacher and quite conspicuously the only form of adult presence in the room. The poor woman was pale as a ghost, clearly unsure of how to get a handle on the situation.
No wonder something felt off. This was usually about when Chifuyu got everything back on its rails, right?
"...Yeah," Ichika agreed cautiously. "Where is Chifuyu?"
Miss Yamada shuffled back and forth awkwardly.
"Well, uh… She took the morning off? She has some personal business to attend to, I think."
What kind of personal business!?
X
Chifuyu took her time hugging her husband—perhaps a little longer than she normally would—before pulling away and smiling kindly.
"I'll be back soon," he told her.
She snorted.
"I won't make too much of a mess. I promise."
"I'm sure I can handle whatever greets me upon my return!"
That earned him a light punch on the shoulder. With a smirk, she rolled his second suitcase toward him.
Shirou grabbed it, but not before quickly squeezing her hand.
"I should be back early Monday morning," he recounted. "We'll have breakfast together before work."
She hummed.
"I'll hold you to that."
She pushed him along.
He offered one last smile before boarding the train. Shirou grabbed his seat and watched as towns and cities passed him by on his way home.
It was a few hours before the Shinkansen reached its destination; it was midday by now.
The train came to a stop. Since he was carrying a bit more baggage than he would have liked, it was a bit of an awkward affair to disembark. There were no trash receptacles on the platform, so he held on to the can of coffee he'd purchased during his ride. He observed the station sign denoting that he had arrived in Fuyuki city.
His steps were purposeful, yet light. Despite the amount of baggage he carried, Shiou had never felt so unburdened. So free.
He didn't make it more than a few steps before a figure crashed into his chest, knocking the air right out of him.
"Shi~rou!"
His surprise only lasted for a moment. He laughed as he held the woman in his arms, raising her into the air as the sun illuminated her soft brown hair. This was the woman who raised him, took care of him in the only way she knew how, worried about him, and did her best to make sure he was never alone.
In his eyes, this woman deserved the world.
"Hey, Fuji-nee." He smiled. "I'm home."