Chapter 3 " Lost Hope "

The storm was a living thing, clawing at the shop’s walls, its roar drowning out the world. 

Snow poured through the shattered window, piling against the counter where I held Ayuma, her small body trembling under my coat. 

The fire was gone, smothered by the cold, and the air was thick with frost and the faint rot of forgotten things. 

Yuki’s body, wrapped in Ayuma’s scarf, lay in the corner a cruel reminder of what this world took.

 Her coughs were sharper now, each one a blade in my chest. I pressed her closer, trying to give her my warmth, but my own body was numb, my breath shallow in the thinning air.

It was getting hard to breathe. The storm sucked the life from the room, the cold so deep it burned. 

My lungs ached with every inhale, the air sharp like glass.

 Ayuma’s face was pale, her lips cracked, her eyes half-closed but still holding that stubborn spark.

 I brushed her hair back, my fingers shaking. “Stay with me, kid,” I whispered, my voice raw. 

“We’ll get through this.” She tried to smile, her hand clutching mine, weak but fierce. 

“Kael…” Her voice was a thread, barely there. “You’re… so warm.”I choked on a laugh, tears stinging my eyes.

 “Liar,” I said, pulling her tighter. “You’re the warm one. Always have been.”

She hummed her tune, that soft melody she’d carried since the barn, but it was faint, fading like a candle in the wind.

 Her hand reached into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled receipt from the 7-Eleven, scrawled with pencil lines.

It was her sun, rough but radiant, its rays like arms reaching for the sky.

 “For you,” she whispered, pressing it into my hand. “Like… I promised.” I took it, my heart breaking.

 The drawing was simple, but it held her her hope, her light, her everything.

 “It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice cracking. “You did good, Ayuma.” Her smile flickered, her eyes heavy. 

“I… dreamed of it,” she murmured. “The sun… it was so bright. Like… home.” 

Her head rested against my chest, her breaths slowing, each one softer than the last.

 I held her, willing my warmth into her, praying the storm would break, that the cold would spare her.

 She was too young, too bright, to fade like this.But the cold didn’t care. Her breaths grew fainter, her body stiller.

 I rocked her gently, humming her tune when she couldn’t, my voice trembling. “Ayuma,” I said, soft at first, then louder.

 “Ayuma, come on, kid. Wake up.” No answer. I shook her, my hands desperate. 

“Ayuma!” Her face was peaceful, her eyes closed, her smile gone. Her hand was limp, the receipt slipping to the floor.

She was gone.I knew it, felt it in the hollow of my chest, but I couldn’t accept it. 

I clutched her, my sobs tearing through me, raw and jagged. “No,” I whispered, over and over. 

“No, you can’t… you can’t leave me.” Tears streamed down my face, freezing on my cheeks, stinging like the snow outside.

 I pressed my forehead to hers, her skin cold as the world that took her. “I’m sorry,” I choked.

 “I promised to keep you safe, and I failed. I’m so sorry.” A river of sadness swallowed me whole.

Ayuma was my sun, my reason, the only light in this gray, frozen hell. Without her, there was nothing just cold, silence, and a world that didn’t deserve her.

 I held her tighter, her drawing crumpled in my fist, my body shaking with grief. The storm roared on, indifferent, and I didn’t care if it took me too. 

I’d follow her, wherever she was, if it meant seeing her smile again.Then, impossibly, a voice broke through the dark. 

“Kael?” I froze, my breath catching. Ayuma’s eyes were open, bright and clear, her smile soft but alive.

 She sat up in my arms, her warmth returning, her hand holding the receipt with her sun.

 “Look,” she said, her voice strong, holding up the drawing. It glowed faintly, its rays shimmering like real light.

 “It’s beautiful, right?” I stared, my heart caught between grief and wonder.

 The shop was warm, the storm silent. A golden glow poured through the window, soft and impossible. 

I looked up, and there it was the sun, hanging in the sky, its rays spilling over Sendai’s snow-dusted ruins like a dream.

 The cold retreated, the air light and alive. Snow melted on the floor, catching the light like tiny stars.

“Ayuma,” I whispered, tears falling, unfrozen now. “How…?” I didn’t understand, didn’t need to. 

She was here, her hum filling the silence, her smile brighter than the sun itself. 

I pulled her close, laughing through my sobs, her warmth seeping into me. “You’re here. 

You’re really here.”She giggled, leaning into me. “Told you I’d draw it for you.” Her hand squeezed mine, fierce and real. “It’s warm now, Kael. 

Like home.”It was paradise. The sun’s light bathed us, the world soft and peaceful, like the fields she’d dreamed of. 

I didn’t know how it happened how she was back, how the sun had returned. I didn’t want to know. 

It was enough. Ayuma was my everything, and this moment, this warmth, was all I’d ever need. 

I held her, my river of sadness giving way to a quiet joy, her drawing pressed between us, glowing like her.

They were found like that, locked in each other’s arms, under a sky too bright for this world. 

Kael, the man who’d carried her through the cold, held Ayuma, the girl who’d been his light, as if he could shield her forever. 

Her drawing, a sun scrawled on faded paper, lay between them, catching the light of a star that had returned too late.

The snow was gone, the air warm, but they were beyond it, lost in an afterlife where her smile never faded. 

No one knew how the sun came back, or why it shone on them alone. Perhaps it was her hope, her drawings, her heart that called it home. 

Or perhaps it was theirs, entwined, a paradise carved from a world that could no longer hold them.