Volume 1 Epilogue: Passive Ability: Being Someone's Home

“You’re home!” Ayase’s bright smile pierced through my armor. She walked forward briskly, as if a child that saw cotton candies.

I handed her a bag, a set of parfaits and strawberry puddings, the ones I never got the chance to give before everything went south.

It’s a small token compared to everything we both had given up, but I pushed the thought aside. She deserved something, anything that was not tied to sacrifice.

Her face lit up at the sight of the desserts, but just as quickly, she closed the bag and turned to me with a questioning look.

“You don’t need to spoil me this much, you know?” she mumbles.

But at this point, there’s just one thing on my mind and I already voiced it out—”You deserve it.”

She froze, clearly bathed in confusion. “But…how?”

“No questions allowed.”

That’s for all the efforts Ayase had been pouring in, and for the constant warmth she always channeled. For the first time I understood that it’s not bad to be alone at all, and having friends like her made me into someone I never thought I would be. She transformed this house into a home.

“But like you said…” she hitched, eyes glued on the floor. “You already lost every single yen you had…”

“I know but…”

It’s been days since I rescued her…again. The stark reality of our situation weighed on me: we have nothing left. The only security of my future lay on that bank card that carried my parents’ savings. I’ve been working full-time at Akio-san’s diner just in order to meet and avail our daily necessities.

I don’t even know why her freedom weighed more than that money—but at the same time, that sacrifice made me feel like I’m finally doing things right.

“...It’s okay,” I snapped from my trance. “I finally understood what it meant to start from zero. And it’s fine as long as you’re free.”

Hearing that, Ayase’s cheeks sprung colors.

“I…” she stammered sheepishly, trying her best to hide her expression. “I’ll m-make tea…”

She carried the bags to the kitchen hastily, and clatters of utensils broke the silence.

Meanwhile, I sank to the chair as exhaustion finally breached my composure. I reached for the remote, and in one click, the television was filled with chatter narrating headlines from news.

In the other half of the screen showed a grotesque scene of a man sprawled on the floor, as if attacked by a rabid animal. The caption said it was a murder, but as I looked closer, the poor old soul’s face sparked familiarity in me, sending shivers.

“That old man…from the alley?”

The thought struck me by lightning, making my feet stand upright on its own.

“They go nuts—berserk. Think about your memories being forcibly deleted right before your eyes. You scream as they fade one by one, your emotional hold tormenting you. You lashing out at anything and anyone, tryna’ stop crap.”

The black market crook’s exact words replayed as the scene on TV unfolded. I couldn’t be convinced that such damage could be done single handedly by a human, and having known the true nature of Sentinels, they could only be the answer.

"The suspect in the attack is believed to be a rare AURA-class Sentinel. According to footage retrieved from the scene, the victim was using an illegal emotion inhibitor, or grafts, which caused the unit to enter an unstable state and attack indiscriminately. The Sentinel, identified as A6-RR1, was reportedly nearing termination before the incident occurred. Authorities are currently searching for its whereabouts."

So the crook was right. The old man must have been using the graft to extend the ‘subscription’ of his virtual wife. Emotion inhibitors were already risky on standard DARTs and LUNAs—what the hell made him think it would work on an AURA?

That Sentinel clearly became a Drifter.

A soft voice broke through my thoughts.

“AURA?”

I glanced over to see Ayase standing by the couch, a mug in each hand.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Gramps thought he could cheat the system and keep his synthetic wife around a little longer.”

Ayase carefully poured hot water into two mugs, her focus on the TV was more distracting than ever.

“Say,” I started, voice a bit shaky. “What do you know about AURAs?”

Ayase turned to me, her expression calm but determined. “I don’t really know that much.”

“Is that so?”

She handed one of the mugs to me, the steam curling upward in the cold air.

“But I was once tutored by one before, Ishida-san. They are like real humans, and they were the best mentors.”

I took the mug, wrapping my hands around it to feel its meager warmth. I stared at the pale liquid inside—cheap instant coffee that was all we could afford now. “Thanks.” I mumbled.

Ayase sat down across from my position, her hands folded neatly in her lap. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching between us.

“And I also know how deeply you hate them, Ishida-san.” Ayase began, her voice soft, “It’s not all bad. We all have our own big nightmares—memories we can’t let go. I still don’t know how I can help you with the pain you feel, but I will be with you through the journey.”

Every time that incident or anything related to my parents is mentioned, memories keep slamming into me like a freight train. But tonight, the anger didn’t resurface. Emotions that pooled for a long time didn’t spill. Her kind words helped me cool down.

Ayase’s presence taught me how to take control of it.

“It’s not the best way to start over,” she continued, clasping both of her hands close. “And that weight, you don’t have to carry it alone. You didn’t let me fall back into someone else’s control, and I won’t let you be eaten alive by those feelings, either. You sacrificed everything for somebody like me—share your burden, and I promise you that I won’t buckle under its weight.”

Her words struck a chord in me, a realization I never really wanted to face.

It was true—I had been gripping to my parents’ deaths like a lifeline, convincing myself that my hatred for Sentinels was the only way to keep their memory alive. But maybe…

Maybe I had been wrong.

Ayase must have seen the hesitation in my expression because she pressed on. “It won’t be easy,” she admitted. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, I saw no burden, not a distraction, but a partner. Someone who had chosen to stand by me, despite everything.

I heaved a long sigh, setting the mug down on the table. “You’re annoyingly optimistic, you know that?”

Ayase smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Ishida-san.”

A chuckle slipped from my lips before I could stop it. The future was uncertain, and the road ahead would be anything but easy. Rent was due soon. The food would run out by next week. I had no idea how we’d make it.

But as I looked at Ayase, sitting there with that unwavering determination in her eyes, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

“Guess I will die working my ass off just to sustain the apartment, no?” I whispered. Before I could even process it, two hands gripped my shoulders in panic.

“You’re dying?!” Ayase’s shriek practically echoed through the apartment.

“That’s a hyperbole!” I yelped, jerking away. “Didn’t we discuss it before?!”

And just like that, the tension shattered.

And as the full moon filtered through the windows, painting the room in a soft silver light, our loud voices pierced through the stillness.

I don’t care how the world will tire me out. I don’t care about the stress of paying rent or budgeting food and necessities, as long as I can see Ayase when I open the door, greeting me like a child. That’s all that matters to me.

I don’t care if the stars are out of reach. As long as I can brush my fingertips on her pink hair, glance at her eyes and see her face. That’s all that matters to me.

Her presence is enough.

I am content with this life.

I felt, for the first time, despite all these new challenges, everything would be okay.