The suffocating scent of hospital-grade antiseptic hung heavily in the stagnant July air, clinging to the back of Sam's throat.
Outside the private room, he stood motionless in the dimly lit corridor. He drew a long, deliberate breath, allowing the artificial chill of the air conditioning to settle the restless turbulence in his chest.
Only after he was certain his expression was unreadable did he reach for the metallic handle.
He turned it and pushed the heavy door open.
The latch clicked softly.
Inside, time seemed to have slowed to a crawl.
The room was bathed in the deep, bleeding orange hues of the setting sun. Beyond the window, Tokyo stretched endlessly beneath the fading light, its towering buildings and distant roads painted in warm colors that felt strangely out of place.
Kirito sat motionless on the couch beside the window.
His dark silhouette was almost swallowed by the sunset as he stared blankly at the sprawling cityscape, his amber eyes distant and unfocused.
"Feeling any better?" Sam asked quietly, breaking the heavy silence.
"Yes."
The answer came instantly.
But Kirito's voice was hollow—a flat, mechanical sound devoid of warmth.
"This power... it's healing me fast."
"You'll learn how to control it in time. Just take it step by step," Sam offered.
His boots made soft thuds against the linoleum as he stepped farther into the room.
"Yes."
The second response was barely more than a whisper, fading into the quiet room.
Sam let out a silent sigh.
This is worse than I thought.
The weight of the boy's grief seemed almost tangible.
"I know it's hard, Kirito," Sam said, his voice gentling. "But you have to accept what happened. You can't bring back the dead. You have to look forward."
"I know," Kirito murmured.
A faint tremor passed through his posture as he shifted.
"I've already accepted that. But... all this worry isn't for myself. It's for Allya. She's... she's still so young."
"That's exactly why you have to be strong," Sam replied, his voice firm and unwavering. "You're the only pillar she has left to lean on now."
Kirito slumped.
His gaze dropped to his palms.
He slowly turned his hands over, staring at his fingers—hands that now pulsed with an unnatural power he had never asked for.
"I have this power, but no purpose," Kirito whispered.
His fingers slowly curled into fists.
"It's like... a hero is nothing without a villain. Right now, I'm just an empty shell. I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore."
Behind his eyes, guilt burned sharply.
If only I had been stronger.
If only I had been there.
Footsteps approached.
Sam crossed the room and lowered himself onto one knee, bringing himself level with Kirito's downcast gaze.
Without a word, he reached out and firmly grasped Kirito's trembling hand.
"If you can't live for yourself right now, then live for your sister," Sam commanded, staring directly into the boy's startled amber eyes. "Don't ever let your life be dictated by tragic circumstances, and don't ever let it be controlled by someone else."
"Huh...?"
Kirito blinked.
For a moment, he was frozen by the sheer intensity in Sam's gaze.
There was no pity there.
Only certainty.
Sam held his gaze for another second before releasing his hand.
He stood and turned toward the exit.
"I'll give you some space to think," he said, pausing at the threshold. "Ah, one more thing—your grandmother is on her way to see you both."
Kirito's shoulders immediately stiffened.
"Sam... tomorrow is... her funeral, right?"
"Yes."
Sam's voice dropped.
"I have a favor to ask," Kirito said, his throat tightening. "Can you... keep Allya at home tomorrow?"
Sam paused and glanced back over his shoulder.
"Why?"
"I just..."
Kirito swallowed hard.
A crack slipped into his voice.
"I don't want to see her cry again."
Sam watched him silently for a moment before giving a small nod.
"As you wish."
The door creaked softly as it closed, sealing Kirito back into the quiet isolation of the room.
Alone with his thoughts, Kirito slowly dragged his aching body from the couch and collapsed face-first onto the crisp white hospital bed.
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He rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the tiled ceiling.
His mind descended into an endless loop of what-ifs.
If I had been there...
If I had been stronger...
If things had been different...
None of the questions had answers.
A soft knock at the door broke through his thoughts.
"Yes...?"
Kirito pushed himself upright.
The door opened, revealing a fragile-looking elderly woman.
Her silver hair was pinned neatly behind her head. Though her posture was stooped with age, she carried herself with a quiet, almost regal grace.
"Grandma...!"
"It gladdens my heart to see you on the mend, Kirito," Fatuba said softly, offering him a tender, crinkled smile as she stepped inside.
"Grandma..."
That single word was enough.
The fragile wall Kirito had built around his emotions finally shattered.
Hot tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his pale cheeks.
Fatuba crossed the room without hesitation.
She gently pulled his head against her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him in a warm, protective embrace.
"My, my," Fatuba cooed softly, running her fingers through his unruly hair. "You're getting a bit too big to cry like this, young man. You must stay strong."
"Grandma... I'm so lonely."
Kirito's voice broke as he buried his face against her coat.
"I... I can't take this... It hurts so much..."
"Don't worry," she whispered, her voice gentle and soothing. "I am still here. I will always be here for both of you."
For several minutes, neither of them said another word.
Only Kirito's uneven breathing and the faint hum of the hospital's air conditioning filled the room.
Eventually, his breathing settled.
Kirito rested with his head in his grandmother's lap while her weathered hands gently stroked his hair.
"So," Fatuba began quietly, breaking the stillness. "Have you decided whether you will join the Dark Knights... or stay with me?"
Kirito's eyes flicked open.
"So... you know about them?"
"I do. Because of an incident in the distant past."
Kirito hesitated.
"Did you meet... him?"
"I did," Fatuba replied with a faint, solemn nod. "Before coming to your room, I visited Allya. I happened to meet your teacher and your comrade there."
Kirito squeezed his eyes shut.
The choice weighed heavily on his chest.
"What do you think I should do, Grandma?"
"That isn't something you should ask an old woman, dear."
Fatuba rested a hand gently against his hair.
"The answer lies within your own heart."
"My heart...?"
"Listen closely to it."
She gave his head one final affectionate pat before rising smoothly to her feet.
"Listen to my heart..." Kirito murmured.
Slowly, he sat upright on the edge of the mattress.
Fatuba walked toward the door and rested her hand on the metal handle.
Before leaving, she paused.
"I will be waiting for your answer tomorrow."
The door clicked shut behind her.
The moment Fatuba stepped into the empty hospital corridor, the brave, stoic expression she had maintained completely crumbled.
Her legs gave way, and she sank heavily onto a nearby wooden bench.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably.
Slowly, she buried her face in her palms, her thin shoulders shaking.
"Why...?"
Her voice was barely audible.
Tears slipped between her fingers.
"Why did you have to leave so soon, Hina...?"
Her shoulders trembled harder.
"Leaving these poor children all alone in this cruel world..."
The Next Day
The skies above Tokyo had completely collapsed, pouring down a heavy, relentless torrent of rain.
The miserable gray atmosphere perfectly matched the somber mood hanging over the cemetery.
Very few people had gathered for Hina's funeral.
The endless roar of rainfall drowned out the distant murmurs of condolence from relatives.
Standing before his mother's headstone, completely soaked despite the dismal chill in the air, Kirito stared at the freshly carved kanji of her name.
He slowly lowered himself and placed a bouquet of water lilies against the grave.
The flowers rested gently against the wet stone.
"This is your favorite flower, isn't it?"
Kirito's voice trembled.
"I haven't forgotten it. I am not that forgetful."
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Then, despite the tears gathering in his eyes, a faint smile appeared on his face.
"Mom..."
His fists clenched tightly at his sides.
"I've made up my mind. I'm going to become a Dark Knight... and I will avenge you."
The rain continued to fall around him.
Then suddenly, the sound of the downpour above his head softened.
A large black umbrella had been extended over him.
"I'm glad to see you've found a path."
Sam's steady voice came from beside him.
"But take my word for it, Kirito: never live solely for revenge. Live your own life."
"I understand."
Kirito nodded faintly, his eyes remaining fixed on the wet stone.
Footsteps approached through the soaked earth.
Fatuba appeared beneath a small purple umbrella, her dark mourning clothes arranged immaculately despite the weather.
"Have you truly decided what you want to do, Kirito?"
"Yes."
Kirito turned toward her.
His eyes were still heavy with grief, but there was a newfound steadiness within them.
"I've decided to go with Sam. Grandma... please take care of Allya."
"No."
Fatuba's answer was immediate.
Kirito blinked.
"E-Eh? But... why?!"
"When I spoke with Allya yesterday, she told me she wants to stay with you," Fatuba explained, a soft, affectionate light appearing in her eyes. "It is best that she remains by her brother's side."
"But living with me... it isn't safe!"
Kirito's voice strained against the relentless rain.
He quickly turned toward Sam.
"You'll keep her safe, right?!"
"With my life," Sam answered without a moment's hesitation.
Kirito looked between the two adults, utterly exasperated.
"You're taking her side too, Sam?!"
Fatuba chuckled softly.
A faint spark of her usual playfulness returned to her tired eyes.
"Well then, I shall be taking my leave."
"I told you not to come today, Grandma! It's terrible for your joints in this weather!"
Kirito's worried expression immediately returned.
Fatuba couldn't help but laugh lightly.
"Ah, you really are just like your mother."
She smiled warmly.
"Don't worry about an old woman like me. You're the one soaking wet! Go change your clothes quickly before you catch a cold."
Seeing her smile, the tension slowly drained from Kirito's shoulders.
His guarded expression softened into a genuine smile.
"Take care, Grandma."
One Week Later
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
Kirito and Allya had moved into a temporary, cramped apartment with Sam and Reno.
While Kirito slowly adjusted to the chaotic, energetic rhythm of living with two active operatives, Allya withdrew almost entirely.
She barricaded herself inside her room, emerging like a ghost only for meals or to leave for school.
The rapid clattering of controller buttons echoed through the living room.
Sam strolled into the living room with a thick stack of real estate documents in hand, his expression completely dry.
Later that evening, after dinner, Sam gathered everyone in the living room.
Surprisingly, even Allya had been persuaded to leave her sanctuary.
She sat at the absolute far end of the sofa, hugging a cushion tightly against her chest while staring down at her knees.
"Alright, listen up."
Sam folded his arms as he stood before them.
"We're moving to a new house next week."
"WHAT?!"
Kirito and Reno blurted out in perfect unison.
Allya remained silent, though her shoulders flinched slightly at the sudden outburst.
"Look, we only have one proper bedroom in this place, which Allya has been using," Sam explained calmly, laying out the facts. "I bought a house with three bedrooms—I couldn't find one with four on such short notice. So, Allya gets her own room, I get one, and you two idiots can share the third. That works, right?"
"Logistically... yeah, I guess we don't have a problem with that. Right, Reno?"
Kirito glanced over.
"Works for me. Less rent."
Reno shrugged.
"What about transportation?" he added after a moment. "It's further from the agency."
"You two can ride your bikes," Sam replied smoothly. "As for Allya, I'll personally drop her off and pick her up from school every day."
"E-Eh...?"
Allya finally looked up.
She had been snapped completely out of her quiet trance.
Sam tilted his head, giving her a warm smile.
"Did you want to say something, Allya?"
"Ah... n-no! It's nothing!"
Her face immediately flushed red beneath the sudden attention.
"Great, then it's settled," Sam declared briskly.
"Wait, Sam—Reno and I have our competitive placement matches all next week," Kirito suddenly remembered, his face paling slightly. "We won't have time to pack or haul boxes!"
"Ah, right. I almost forgot about your match schedule."
Reno rubbed the back of his neck.
"Then you two focus on your training," Sam said, waving a hand dismissively. "Allya and I can handle the packing and moving process here."
Kirito turned toward his younger sister, his tone softening.
"Can you handle that, Allya?"
"Y... Yes."
She murmured timidly, shrinking slightly behind her cushion.
"Awesome! Then it's a plan!"
Sam beamed.
Ughhh, why did I say yes?!
Allya buried her burning red face into her pillow.
If I had just said no, I could have gone to stay at Sis Sherry's house for a whole week!
Watching the subtle but dramatic shift in her expression, Sam hid a knowing, affectionate smile behind his hand.
She's slowly coming out of her shell...
His gaze softened.
I'll make sure she gets her normal life back, step by step.