CHAPTER 29: WHAT’S LEFT AFTER GOODBYE

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I didn’t sleep.

I closed my eyes, yeah. Rolled over. Even counted ceiling cracks in the dark like they were sheep.

But the quiet was too loud.

Their voices echoed behind my ears—not the apologies, not the pleas.

The accusations.

The silence when I needed them to speak up.

You never forget how people look at you when they’re afraid of you.

Especially the ones you love.

So I just laid there.

Alone.

Listening to the house breathe without me.

And sometime past midnight... I heard a knock.

Soft. Hesitant.

Like even the sound was apologizing.

I didn’t move.

Another knock.

Then a whisper:

"It’s me."

Sora.

I could tell from the way her voice wobbled. Like she hadn’t stopped crying since she left the room.

I waited.

She didn’t knock again.

Just sat down on the floor outside my door.

And started talking.

Not loud. Not to force anything. Just... talking.

"I used to dream about this house," she said. "Before we even met. The way it would feel. The way you’d hold me when I messed up."

She laughed bitterly. "Guess I never imagined I’d be the one to tear it apart."

I closed my eyes.

Not because I didn’t care.

But because if I opened them... I’d open the door.

And I wasn’t sure if I’d ever close it again.

"I was wrong," she whispered. "And I know I said that already. But you need to hear it from my heart, not just my mouth."

She paused.

I heard her breath hitch.

"I was scared. But I never should’ve let that fear make a villain out of you."

Silence.

A long one.

Then:

"Whether you forgive me now, or ever... I’ll wait. As long as it takes. Because you were there for me before I even knew how to be there for myself."

I heard her shift. Stand up.

But she didn’t walk away.

She just slid something under the door.

Then her footsteps—retreating.

When I finally sat up, I reached for it.

A photo. From a polaroid we’d taken months ago.

Her, on my back.

Me, grinning like an idiot.

Akane and Elira in the background, throwing leaves.

Everyone laughing.

On the back, in shaky handwriting, just two words:

"Don’t forget."

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Truth?

I wanted to forgive her.

I wanted to walk out that door, scoop her up in my arms, and tell her it was okay.

But my heart still had bruises.

And bruises don’t heal overnight.

Especially when the people you love... are the ones who gave them to you.

But maybe...

Just maybe...

Tomorrow, I’d open the door.

Not to forget what happened.

But to try again.

Because love wasn’t about perfection.

It was about persistence.

And maybe...

I wasn’t ready tonight.

But I wasn’t done trying either.

---

The front door creaked.

Ayame stepped inside, suitcase in hand, her usual fire dimmed the moment her eyes landed on us.

She froze.

The air was suffocating. Heavy. Like we’d all forgotten how to breathe.

Sora sat curled into herself on the far end of the couch, eyes red, arms wrapped tight around her knees like she was holding something in.

Ayame’s gaze drifted toward me—but I didn’t turn. Couldn’t. My hands were deep in my pockets, shoulders drawn tight as I stared out the window at nothing.

Behind me, silence pressed harder than any scream.

Ayame finally whispered, "...Did I miss something?"

No answer.

Sora moved first, her voice hoarse. "A lot happened," she said without looking up. "I’ll explain later."

Ayame’s brows furrowed, but the storm in Sora’s eyes kept her quiet.

She didn’t ask again.

I could hear Ayame settle in—cautious, unsure.

It was always like this after something broke.

Then she asked, "Where’s Elira?"

I didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. I already knew the answer. I just didn’t want to hear it out loud.

"She went back to the realm," Sora said quietly. "Her father’s worse. She had to leave... fast."

"No goodbye?" Ayame frowned.

Rin, who’d been quiet this whole time, stood and opened her palm, "She left this." holding out a glowing orb. Its light was soft—gentle—but even that felt too loud in the silence.

"She said we can reach her once a day," Sora added. "Rules from the elder circle or something."

Ayame sat on the edge of the armchair like it would break under her. The weight in the room wasn’t letting up.

Then Sora stood.

I turned slightly.

She’d been silent this whole time, sitting cross-legged against the wall like a shadow. Her eyes were glassy but calm.

"I think I’m going home for a bit," she said.

It wasn’t just "home." It was escape. It was survival.

"I just... I need space," she added.

Nobody argued.

She walked past us slowly. When she neared me, she paused—just a breath’s worth of hesitation. I didn’t look at her, but I felt her eyes on me.

I almost turned.

Almost.

But she kept walking.

The door shut behind her.

The silence grew legs and sat down with us.

No one spoke. No one moved. Not even Ayame.

It wasn’t over. It wasn’t even the middle. It was just the part where things held their breath before falling apart again.

---

It’s been a few hours since Sora left.

The hush still haunted us.

Then—

FZZZT!

The orb in Rin’s hand flared bright, pulsing fast like a heartbeat on the edge of panic.

She clutched it. "Elira?!"

The light shimmered, and then—her voice broke through, fractured and terrified:

"Please—someone—my village—it’s under attack! The barrier’s falling—!"

I snapped around, all my stillness gone. Ayame was on her feet. Akane stood frozen.

Crackling static bled through the orb.

Then we saw it.

Elira’s image flickered in the air, broken and smeared with blood. Smoke curled behind her. Her face... bruised.

She was fighting to breathe. Fighting to speak.

"I—I don’t know who they are—but they’re looking for y....."

CRACK!

The orb flashed violently—then dimmed.

Nothing.

Silence.

Just that echo in my chest. Like thunder waiting for the lightning to catch up.

I looked at the others.

Ayame’s fists were clenched.

Mei was shaking.

We didn’t say a word.

We didn’t need to.

Whatever peace we’d scraped together had just shattered.

And I knew, deep in my bones—

This wasn’t just a call for help.

This was a declaration.

It had begun.

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