Music for chapter: Kalaido - Hanging Lanterns
The smell hit him first, grilled fish and the rich, earthy scent of miso soup warming on the stove. Aullie's eyes fluttered open, his body heavy with the kind of sleep he hadn't had in months. Real sleep. Safe sleep. He rolled over and groaned, his hair doing that thing it always did when he slept too hard, sticking up like he'd been struck by lightning.
Brynn glanced over her shoulder as he appeared in the doorway, her face breaking into the kind of smile that could cure homesickness and mend broken hearts. "There he is," she said warmly. "I was about to send Shinku to drag you out of bed. You've been sleeping like the dead."
"Morning, Mum," Aullie mumbled, voice still thick with sleep as he leaned against the doorframe, looking for all the world like the little boy who used to wander down for breakfast in superhero pajamas.
Sora appeared beside him, already dressed and looking like she'd been up for hours. She always did that, made everything look effortless.
"Good morning, Mrs. Ikeda," she said politely, stepping around Aullie's sleepy form. "Can I help with breakfast? You've already done so much."
"Brynn, please, dear. And yes, if you wouldn't mind getting the plates from that cabinet there? The blue ones, they're my favorites." Brynn's eyes twinkled with the kind of maternal approval that comes from watching young people offer to help without being asked.
Aullie poured the tea while Sora moved around the kitchen like she'd been doing it her whole life. There was something about mornings like this that made his chest feel loose for the first time in forever. Brynn hummed while she cooked, the same tune she used to hum when he was little and would sit at this very table doing homework. The grilled salmon crackled in the pan, the tamagoyaki golden and perfect, and the pickled daikon sitting in the little blue bowl his grandmother had left them.
Food like this, simple, made with hands that cared, it did something to you. Fed more than just your stomach.
They sat down together, and Brynn got that look. The one that meant trouble.
"So, Sora," she said, cutting into her salmon with surgical precision. "Just friends, are we?"
Sora went red as a tomato and nearly sent tea everywhere. Aullie made a sound like a dying whale.
"Mum, for crying out loud"
But Brynn just laughed, the kind of laugh that filled up corners and made you feel warm all over. "I'm not meddling, love. I'm just saying, you two move around each other like you've been doing it for years. That's not nothing."
"We're... we're friends," Sora stammered, still pink around the edges.
"Of course you are," Brynn agreed, but her smile suggested she wasn't fooled for a second.
Later, they walked through town with nowhere particular to go and all day to get there. Their shoulders bumped every now and then, and neither of them moved away. The streets looked smaller than they remembered, or maybe they'd just gotten bigger.
They found themselves at the little shrine tucked behind Tanaka's electronics shop, the red torii gate weathered and beautiful in the way old things get when they've stood through everything time could throw at them.
Aullie pulled out two wooden ema plaques and handed her one along with a marker.
"Make a wish."
Sora turned the little wooden tablet over in her hands. "You actually believe in this stuff?"
"Sometimes." He looked up at the shrine, remembering. "I used to come here every week after Dad died. Wished for all sorts of things. Mostly that I could keep everyone safe."
Sora looked at him for a long moment, seeing past the easy smile to the boy who'd lost his father too young, who'd carried that weight and responsibility ever since. Without another word, she turned away and began writing, her characters careful and precise.
Aullie wrote his own wish, different this time, not for strength or power, but for enough time. Time to figure things out, time to keep the people he loved safe, time for moments exactly like this one.
Neither of them asked what the other had written. Some wishes were meant to be kept secret, even from the people you trusted most.
That afternoon, they climbed up to the old hill park where they used to go as kids. Haru and Aki were already there, sprawled on a blanket with food from home, Aki's mom's curry that could wake the dead, Haru's grandmother's pickled vegetables that tasted like summer, and some leftover yakitori that Brynn had pressed into their hands before they left.
"You know what's weird?" Aki said, pausing between bites of a yakitori skewer. "Being back here feels like nothing's changed at all. Like we could just pick up where we left off." She gestured toward the town below them. "But we have changed, haven't we? We're not the same people who left."
"Definitely not the same kids who used to race down this hill on blocks of ice and think that was the most dangerous thing we'd ever do," Haru added, his voice thoughtful as he gazed out over the familiar landscape.
"Nope," Aullie agreed, settling back on his elbows. "We're Jewelmasters now. Or getting there, anyway. We've seen things, done things..." He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. They all knew what he meant.
Sora pulled her knees up to her chest, chin resting on them as she watched clouds drift across the sky. The wind tugged gently at her braid, and for a moment she looked impossibly young. "We won't have many more breaks like this, will we?" she said quietly. "Days where we can just... be normal teenagers eating lunch on a hill."
"Probably not," Aullie admitted, and the weight of that truth settled over them like a heavy blanket. "The world's getting more complicated. Our responsibilities are getting bigger. But that's exactly why we need to make this one count."
As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, painting everything in shades of gold and amber, their conversation gradually shifted to quieter topics. The urgency that had driven them for months seemed to fade, replaced by the kind of peaceful contemplation that only comes when you're surrounded by people who truly understand you.
Aki leaned back in the grass, arms folded behind her head like a pillow, staring up at the sky. "I used to hate this place, you know," she said softly. "Thought it was too quiet, too boring. I couldn't wait to leave and see the world." She smiled, but it was tinged with something bittersweet. "Now it feels like exactly what I needed. Like maybe home isn't such a bad thing after all."
Haru picked up a smooth pebble and sent it skipping down the hill, watching it bounce and roll until it disappeared into the grass below. "My grandfather told me something yesterday that I can't stop thinking about. He said strength without purpose is just violence." He was quiet for a moment, considering his words. "I think maybe I'm finally starting to understand what he meant."
"He's right," Aullie said, his voice carrying the kind of certainty that comes from hard-won experience. "We've all been through hell these past few months. We've seen what real violence looks like, what it does to people. But we're still here. We're still fighting for the right reasons."
"And we've got each other," Sora added, her voice soft but firm. "That has to count for something."
Aullie looked around at his friends, really looked at them, taking in Aki's fiery temperament, Haru's steady strength, Sora's gentle resolve. These were the people who had stood by him through everything, who had faced impossible odds and come out the other side still caring about each other, still willing to fight for something bigger than themselves.
"Yeah," he said, meaning it more than he'd ever meant anything. "That makes all the difference."
That night, they set up camp in Aullie's backyard just like they had when they were twelve and thought staying up past midnight was the height of rebellion. Blankets on the grass, snacks in mismatched bowls, and the night alive with cricket song and the distant pop of someone's leftover fireworks.
Aki told them about the time she accidentally turned her alchemy lab partner's hair purple for a week. Haru was snoring within ten minutes, curled up like a cat. Sora ended up leaning against Aullie's shoulder without saying anything about it, and he didn't shift away.
The fireflies came out as the stars appeared, blinking like tiny lanterns in the darkness. One by one, his friends drifted off to sleep.
Aullie stayed awake longest, staring up at the sky and listening to them breathe. His hand found his Void bead, warm against his palm.
Whatever was coming next, the battles, the choices, the weight of everything they'd have to carry, he wasn't afraid. Not tonight. Not with them beside him.
The world had been harsh to them, but tonight it was gentle. Tonight it gave them this: soft grass beneath their backs, stars overhead, and the quiet certainty that some things, friendship, home, love, were worth every fight that lay ahead.