Chapter 63 – Memories

Epilogue.

It was a sunny spring morning in Lumius. The same kind of day as the last when Ren had walked among the living.

The laughter of children carried across the fields, filling the air with a joy impossible to contain.

Near the old apple tree where Ren and Rin had once played as children now stood a modest gravestone.

Unlike her sisters, Yukina walked with measured steps, her white kimono swaying with solemn grace. She wanted to seem older, calmer than the rest.

“Show some respect… this is sacred ground,” she said in a serious tone, stopping in front of the grave.

The other girls burst out laughing.

“Why is your daughter so serious? She looks like a tiny adult,” Ada teased, nudging Yura with a smile.

“That’s just how the Yuki are,” Yura replied with a solemn air—though in truth, she was proud.

The moment was broken by hurried footsteps. Rin appeared, her two children scrambling at her heels.

“Don’t run, please!” the young mother begged.

“Hurry, hurry! Aunt Rin is too slow!” Iris shouted between giggles, her golden hair catching the spring breeze.

From the side, Luisina couldn’t resist a jab.

“Tell me, Ada… were you this wild as a child?”

Ada coughed, flustered at being caught.

“Cough, cough… must be Ren’s genes,” she muttered at last, shrugging as Iris raced in circles with a grin identical to her father’s.

“They really are wonderful children,” Sakura said, handing out candied apples to the little ones.

“Sometimes I wish my daughter were as sweet as Flora, instead of so stoic…” Yura sighed, glancing at Sakura.

The princess smirked.

“Don’t be fooled by that angelic face. My daughter’s a whirlwind too. Honestly, I envy how well-mannered Yukina is.”

The two mothers laughed, recognizing that each child carried a different piece of Ren within them.

“Speaking of sweetness…” Luisina chimed in.

At that moment, Emilia Sinclair appeared, climbing the hill alongside Rem with her husband and children. Walking with them was a familiar figure—Latina, carrying her two-year-old daughter.

“Look at that!” Luisina exclaimed. “It’s a mini-Latina! Come here, let Aunt Luisina hold you!” She stretched out her arms eagerly.

Latina smiled shyly and placed the little one in her friend’s embrace.

“But don’t jostle her too much. Aya just ate—I don’t want your kimono ruined by an accident.”

Luisina laughed, rocking the baby gently.

“Relax, I’m an artist! I can hold a baby and put on a show at the same time!”

Laughter mingled with the spring breeze as generations gathered around the modest gravestone atop the hill.

Little by little, the laughter faded. Yukina, Iris, and Flora walked hand in hand to the grave.

The sun bathed the stone in warm light as the wind carried down petals from the apple tree above.

Yukina stepped forward with the solemnity of someone far older than her eight years.

“Papa… we all came today.” Her voice quivered only slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of my sisters.”

Six-year-old Iris crouched down clumsily and placed a wildflower on the grave.

“Mom says I look like you when I smile. I don’t really remember you… but I want you to know I’ll make everyone laugh, just like you made her laugh.”

Flora, silent, traced her small fingers over the stone. Her eyes held an uncanny calm for her age.

“No matter where you are, Papa… I know you’re still here. I always feel it when we pray.”

The three girls clasped hands, and for a fleeting moment the silence was so pure, it felt as if Ren himself were there, listening.

From behind, Rin stepped forward and gently laid her hand on the grave.

“How time flies… hard to believe this was once our favorite place…” she whispered with a nostalgic smile. “I miss you so much, onii-chan.”

A little farther back, Emilia watched the scene. Children darted up and down the hill. Luisina’s illusions drew delighted laughter. The adults shared stories, memories of lives forever marked by one man.

Ren had not only been a hero.

He had been someone who changed the lives of everyone around him, without ever asking for anything in return.

That was his true treasure. His legacy.

“I wish you could see this, son…” Emilia murmured, her eyes shining. “This is your legacy. The free future you dreamed of.”

Her granddaughters tugged at her hands, pulling her back toward the others. Because in the end, no one was sad. Ren’s memory brought joy, not sorrow.

While Wisteria rested in the depths of Gekkō, and Versalles stood upon the pedestal of the Solar Church, the true spirit of Ren Sinclair lived on in those he had touched with his light: demons, humans, Yuki, and demi-humans alike.

In the freedom that Phantom had won for them.

                                                                            END

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Author’s Thoughts

First of all, I want to thank all the readers and fellow writers who accompanied me throughout this story.
I also want to thank Honeyfeed and Kadokawa for creating this contest, which gives us the chance to discover wonderful stories and authors from all around the world.

For me, this has been a personal challenge. I know I don’t have much chance compared to writers with greater experience, but I had so much fun during the creative process—and that alone makes it worthwhile.

Phantom of the Opera, as I like to call it, was originally planned to span five to seven volumes. Condensing it into a single book meant some characters and storylines might feel rushed, and I even had to leave out two entire regions and several flashbacks to Ren’s past as Takao. The same goes for his daughters: I know their appearance may seem sudden, but this was the only way to adapt my original vision.

I must confess—I felt sad writing the final chapters. In a way, all of these characters became a part of me, and I grew very attached to them.
Ren’s journey taught me—and I hope it taught you as well—that doing the right thing often leads us down difficult paths; that good and evil are often a matter of perspective; that betrayals should never be forgotten; and that family always comes first.
Above all, it taught me that keeping one’s word is what truly defines who we are.

There were many times I thought of giving up on this contest. Many times I told myself, “You can’t do it—there are people far more talented than you.” But I also realized that if I quit, nothing would change—I’d only be running away out of fear of failure. That’s why I believe Ren isn’t just another “OP character.” He’s someone willing to sacrifice himself, to keep moving forward even when it costs him everything.

Once again, thank you to everyone who has read these lines. For me, this is both a catharsis and a closure, but also a new beginning. Thank you for staying with me until the end, and I hope each of you also finds the strength to achieve your own goals.

See you soon.

Tachibana Dante