Chapter 27:

Ōhana: A Haven Beyond Everything

Blaze Borne

“Mom…?”

The word slipped out before Hiroshi could stop it.

His vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes, the world of clouds trembling with every shallow breath he took.

“Yes, son… it’s—” Mei’s voice faltered. She inhaled sharply, struggling to keep herself together. “It’s me…”

Before either of them could say anything more, she pulled him into her arms.

Hiroshi froze for a split second—then collapsed into her embrace.

“Mom!” he cried, his voice breaking completely.

They held each other tightly, as if letting go would mean losing one another forever. Tears spilled freely from both their eyes, falling into the clouds beneath them and vanishing without a trace.

“Oh, my dear son…” Mei whispered, her hands trembling as she held him closer.

After a moment, Hiroshi wiped his tears with the back of his hand, though his chest still felt unbearably tight.

“Where have you been…?” he asked softly. “I’ve felt so lonely without you…”

Mei’s expression softened, her gaze filled with warmth and sorrow all at once.

“I never left you,” she said gently. “I was always there—watching you from afar. From Ōhana.”

Hiroshi blinked. “Ōhana…? What’s that?”

Instead of answering immediately, Mei looked around. She slowly stood up, her eyes tracing the endless expanse of clouds stretching into eternity.

“This place,” she said, spreading her arms slightly. “The one you’re seeing right now. This is Ōhana.”

Her voice grew quieter, reverent.
“A haven beyond everything. A place where you find the ones you love. A place that exists far beyond the world you know—between life and death, beyond time itself.”

Hiroshi stiffened.

“What—?!” He shot up to his feet, panic flashing across his face.

Mei raised her right hand and gently waved it upward.

The clouds shifted.

They folded and parted, forming a vast screen of mist.

Within it appeared a room.

Krooke’s medical room.

Hiroshi’s body lay motionless on the hospital bed, wires and electrodes attached to his chest. The steady beeping of the ECG echoed faintly through the vision. Nearby, Ryumi sat close, unmoving. Shinzo and Krooke sat together; Krooke’s head drooped as sleep briefly claimed him, only for him to jerk awake and rest against Shinzo’s shoulder.

Hiroshi’s breath hitched.

“Wait…” His voice shook. “I—I died…?”

Mei let out a soft, bittersweet chuckle.

“No, son. You didn’t die.” She shook her head gently. “But you aren’t alive either.”

The image dissolved, fading back into drifting clouds.

Hiroshi stared at her, confusion twisting his expression.

“It’s difficult to explain,” Mei continued. “But right now, you’re hanging by a very thin string—caught between life and death. What happens next depends on you.”

“…Me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said. “Your own choice. To live… or to let go.”

Hiroshi clenched his fists.

“So I get to choose…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then… can I choose to stay here? I really want to stay with you.”

Mei’s expression tightened.

“The world still needs you,” she said softly. “You have to go back.”

She raised her left hand.

A portal of clouds formed in the air, glowing faintly with an ethereal yellow light.

“But—Mom…” Hiroshi stepped forward desperately. “I don’t want to go. Not yet. I can’t leave you again.” His voice trembled. “You said this place is beyond time, right? Then… staying for a little while won’t hurt, will it?”

Mei blinked, then smiled faintly.

“Well,” she said with a quiet chuckle, “you really do pay attention to words.”

The portal dissolved, melting back into the clouds.

Mei began walking forward slowly. Hiroshi followed, afraid to lose sight of her even for a second.

“If you insist on staying just a bit longer,” she said, “then listen to a story for me.”

“A story?” Hiroshi asked, surprised.

“A story about a brave and noble king,” Mei replied. “Would you like to hear it?”

Hiroshi nodded eagerly. “Of course. I’d love to.”

Mei stopped and gently sat down on the clouds.

Hiroshi followed suit, sitting beside her.

Mei looked at Hiroshi, her voice calm yet carrying the warmth of a mother who hadn’t seen her son in years.
“You sure do know about kings and queens, right?”

Hiroshi nodded immediately, the corner of his lips rising into a faint smile.
“Mhm!”

She smiled back at him and patted her lap softly. “Then come here.”

Hiroshi obeyed without hesitation.
The clouds beneath them shifted, becoming softer, warmer — almost like a bed made of memory itself.

Even though Hiroshi was an adult now, lying in his mother's lap like this made him feel impossibly small again. Like a five-year-old boy listening to a bedtime story, safe in his mother’s presence, untouched by the cruelty of the world.

Mei’s hand moves gently over his forehead, slow and soothing, as if she is afraid that if she stops, he might disappear.

Her touch was gentle and familiar — something Hiroshi hadn’t felt in so long that it made his heart ache.

Mei brushed her fingers through his hair and began softly, her tone slow and steady, almost like a lullaby.

“So, this story is about a brave and noble king,” she said, her hand moving in a soothing rhythm over his forehead. “His kingdom was as vast as a hundred villages, filled with life, laughter, and prosperity. His people loved him dearly and praised him for his kindness — for he was not just a ruler, but a protector.”

The clouds around them shifted subtly, forming vague shapes of castles, cities, and waving banners. Her voice carried through the still air, painting each image with her words.

“One day,” she continued, “strangers came to his land. They were not ordinary men, but warriors of a ruthless and wicked Queen — one whose heart was consumed by greed and cruelty. She wanted the King’s lands, his power, his peace… and she sent her men to destroy everything he stood for.”

Hiroshi watched the clouds move above him, the faint outlines of battle beginning to take shape — swords flashing, fire spreading.

“The King, however, refused to surrender. And so began a great war — a war between two of the mightiest kingdoms ever known.”

Her hand paused for a moment before continuing. “The King fought bravely. He led his soldiers into battle and defeated the Queen’s elite troops, capturing the army men who survived. For a time, it seemed victory was his. The people cheered, believing their King had triumphed.”

Her tone darkened slightly. “But they were wrong. Because something — no, someone — arrived. Not to rule. Not to conquer. But to destroy. The Queen’s commander.”

Hiroshi’s chest rose and fell quietly as he listened.

“The Noble King fought the commander himself. Their battle was unlike anything the world had ever seen — one of power, of sacrifice, of will. But soon, the King realized he could not win. So, he made a choice no ruler should ever have to make.”

She paused.

“He took two lives that day — the life of the commander… and his own.”

The clouds rippled faintly, almost in mourning. Mei’s eyes softened, reflecting the sadness in the tale.

“With the King gone, the Queen was left unchecked. Alone in her fury, she struck again when the people were weak and leaderless. Her army swept across the land, and the once bright Kingdom was reduced to ashes. Those who survived lost their homes, their families, their hope.”

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “But even then, they did not give up. They gathered strength, united with others who had suffered under her tyranny. Together, they formed a new army — small, but unbreakable in spirit. And when the Queen’s forces returned, the people stood their ground.”

Mei smiled faintly. “At the brink of their final breath, they remembered their King. They prayed for his return. And as if the gods themselves were listening… he did.”

The clouds glowed faintly gold as she continued. “The King returned from the beyond, his soul blazing with a light brighter than ever before. The tide of battle turned. The people rose with him, and together, they defeated the Evil Queen. Peace returned to the land, and those who survived rebuilt their lives — alongside the people who were once trapped under the Queen’s rule. For the first time, both sides found harmony. The kingdom thrived again… this time, in everlasting happiness.”

Mei’s voice softened to a near whisper. “So, you understand what this story is based on?”

Hiroshi blinked, still absorbing the story’s weight. “Uh… I don’t know,” he admitted hesitantly, his tone unsure.

A soft laugh escaped her. “It’s based on you,” she said.

His head tilted slightly in surprise. “Huh? What?”

“It’s based on your life,” she said gently, “and mine… and everyone else’s in this universe. We all have times when an evil queen — or rather, negativity — invades our kingdom, which is our mind. When it does, we fight, we struggle, sometimes we even lose. But if we keep faith — in God, in goodness, and in ourselves — then like that King, we rise again. We become stronger. Wiser. A new version of who we were meant to be. Eventually, we defeat the evil.”

Hiroshi’s eyes widened slightly, then softened in understanding. “Yeah… I think I get it now,” he said, his voice calm, almost peaceful.

Mei smiled faintly, brushing his hair aside as she took in a slow, deep breath. Her hand lingered over his forehead, warm and tender — the way only a mother’s could be.

The clouds around them stilled. Time, once again, seemed to stop.

And for a moment… nothing else existed except the sound of her quiet breathing and the heartbeat of her son resting peacefully in her lap.

Hiroshi hesitated, the words sitting heavy in his chest before finally escaping.

“Mom… I had a question.”

Mei looked at him, a soft smile still resting on her face, patient and gentle.

“Well,” she said, “what is it?”

“Majuro… You might not know him,” Hiroshi began. “But he was a great ally. A great mentor. He told me about the Cube…”

At the mention of it, Mei’s smile faltered—just slightly, but enough for Hiroshi to notice.

“He said the Cube was given to you by the Beast Gods,” Hiroshi continued, his voice growing tense. “That it somehow caused the rift to open… that it let the Varkonian invasion happen. He said the Cube awakened when I was born.”
His throat tightened.
“What exactly happened that day…?”

Mei exhaled slowly. The smile vanished completely.

“It did not happen because of you,” she said after a long pause. “When I received the Cube, I was already three months pregnant.”
Her gaze drifted away, as if looking at a memory too painful to face directly.
“When I prayed to the beast gods, they appeared before me. They granted us boons—me, and you. The Cube was one of them.”

Her fingers curled faintly.

“Your father overheard that conversation. He took the Cube… and went to Varkor. His home planet.” Her voice wavered. “He loved me deeply. That’s why I never understood why he left… or why he did that...”

She swallowed.

“When you were born, the entire planet was plunged into darkness. Your father had already prepared the invasion. I don’t know why.”
Her eyes dimmed.
“He caused all of this. Not you. You were just born.”

Hiroshi suddenly sat up.

Mei’s hand lifted instinctively from his forehead, hovering in the air, trembling as contact broke.

“V-Varkor…?” Hiroshi whispered. “Home planet…?”
His breath grew uneven.
“My… my father was a…”
His voice cracked.
“A Varkonian…?”

He froze.

Slowly, he turned to Mei, searching her face for denial. For anything.

She said nothing.

“No… no, no…” Hiroshi shook his head. “Don’t tell me…”
His eyes widened in horror.
“I… I’m half-Varkonian…?”
His voice sharpened, pain turning into disbelief.
“And you… you married a Varkonian? Even knowing what they are…?”

He stood up, Mei still sitting, eyes filling with a feeling regret.

[At Krooke's House, Medical Room]

Ryumi sat rigid beside Hiroshi’s body, her hands clenched together so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Shinzo stood nearby, restless, eyes fixed on the monitor. Krooke watched the ECG, barely blinking.

They were waiting.

Hoping.

Then the line spiked violently.

The waves grew shorter. Faster. Erratic.

The beeping sharpened, turning frantic.

Krooke’s eyes widened.

“What—”

He rushed forward, hands shaking as he studied the screen.

Ryumi and Shinzo stood instantly.

“What’s happening?!” Ryumi asked, panic flooding her voice.

“He’s critical,” Krooke said, forcing control into his words. “We need beta-blockers. Metoprolol. Atenolol. Propranolol. Anything to slow his heart rate.”

“Then give them to him!” Shinzo snapped.

Krooke’s jaw clenched.
“I would without asking,” he shot back bitterly, “but I don’t have them!”

The words crashed into the room.

“What?!” Ryumi and Shinzo cried together.

[Back at Ōhana]

“You are getting it wrong,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wasn’t like the others. He loved me.”

Hiroshi turned away sharply, tears burning in his eyes.

“He was a Varkonian!” he shouted. “They never change! They’re all the same!”
His voice cracked under the weight of years of hatred and fear.
“If he loved you so much… why did he leave you?!”

Mei opened her mouth to answer.

Nothing came out.

Hiroshi’s shoulders trembled as tears spilled freely.

“I’ve decided,” he said hollowly. “I’ll stay here. With you.”

“Hiroshi, please…” Mei whispered, standing up.

“I’ve decided, Mom.”

He sat down, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and closed his eyes—shutting himself off from her, from everything.

[Back at Krooke's House]

The ECG screamed.

Beep.
Beep.
Beep.

Faster. Louder.

Ryumi felt her heart pounding in her ears.

Krooke stared at the screen, frozen.

The sound—
the rhythm—
the moment—

It was the same.

The same helpless moment he had lived once before.

BEEEEEEEEEEP.

The line flattened.

For Krooke, sound vanished.

His mind refused to process what his eyes were seeing.

“No—!” Ryumi screamed, but her voice felt distant, as if swallowed by the room itself.

She collapsed forward, clutching Hiroshi, pressing her head against his chest as if sheer will could force his heart to start again.

“Please… please wake up…” she sobbed. “Don’t do this… don’t leave me…”

Shinzo’s fists trembled.

He turned away abruptly, tears spilling unchecked as rage burned through him. He stormed out of the room and slammed the door so hard the walls shook.

Slowly, sound returned.

Ryumi’s cries filled the room.

“No… you can’t do this to me…” she begged. “You promised… you promised you’d stay…”
Her voice shattered.
“Please… don’t go…”

Krooke’s knees weakened.

“Is this it…?”
“Did I fail again…?”

His thoughts spiraled uncontrollably.

“The same… the same as before…”

Tears streamed down his face as memories of his mother’s death crushed him all over again.

“He died the same way…”
His head bowed.
“I should’ve saved him… I had to…”

His chest tightened painfully.

“I’m sorry, Mom…” he whispered silently. “I couldn’t stop it… I failed again…”

He tilted his head upward, forcing himself to breathe, but the tears kept falling—no matter how hard he tried to stop them.

[At Ōhana]

Mei stepped closer, her voice trembling.

“Hiroshi… please. Try to understand…”

He didn’t respond.

Hiroshi sat there with his eyes closed, arms crossed tightly, as if holding himself together by force alone. He refused to look at her. Refused to listen.

Then—

A hand rested on his shoulder.

It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t forceful.
It was familiar.

Old.
Warm.
Carrying the weight of a past that never truly left him.

Before he could even turn, a voice reached his ears. Not the same voice he remembered—but unmistakably him.

“So?” the voice said lightly. “Are you planning to keep pouting like a baby, or will you welcome an old friend properly?”

Hiroshi’s eyes flew open.

He turned around in a single breath.

There he was.

Krimson.

The friend he had lost.

He stood there calmly, older now—his face sharper, lines of age etched clearly into his skin. He looked like a man in his fifties, dressed simply in a white shirt and black jeans, hands casually in his pockets.

For a moment, Hiroshi couldn’t breathe.

“…Krimson?” he whispered.

He stood up slowly, eyes scanning him as if afraid the image would vanish.

Then, despite everything, he let out a small chuckle.

“You… you look really old.”

Krimson clicked his tongue in mock annoyance.
“Well, unlike you, I wasn’t frozen in a fancy chamber for two centuries. I aged properly—made it to fifty-four.”
His expression softened.
“Then died on a mission. Tried to ambush Kurumi. Didn’t go as planned.”

Silence fell between them.

The weight of years, battles, and loss pressed down all at once.

Then Krimson stepped forward and pulled Hiroshi into a hug—tight, crushing, as if afraid to let go.

Hiroshi stiffened for a second, then hugged him back just as hard.

“You really didn’t change,” Hiroshi muttered, voice strained. “Not even a little.”

Krimson pulled away with a grin.
“Eighteen or fifty-four. I’m still the same Krimson you knew.”

Before Hiroshi could reply, another hand settled on his shoulder—firm, steady.

A familiar, amused voice followed.

“The warrior is here, isn’t he?”

Hiroshi turned.

“Majuro…?”

He didn’t hesitate this time. He stepped forward and hugged him.

“You really had to play the hero back there, didn’t you?” Hiroshi said, half laughing, half frustrated. “Couldn’t you have just handed Kurumi the Cube? I would’ve taken it back anyway.”

Majuro chuckled softly.

“If I had,” he said, “would you have rushed to the Fourth Ring that same day? Would you have defeated Gorokko? Reached Dwarika? Defeated those two tyrants?”
He looked at Hiroshi steadily.
“Would you have come here?”

Hiroshi went quiet.

“No,” Majuro continued. “Every decision shapes a different timeline. The universe moves on choices—yours included. A specific set of choices has led you and the universe here—and it will lead further as well.”

Hiroshi exhaled slowly.

“…How did you know about where I went and what I did? You really were watching me from here, weren't you?”

Majuro nodded.
“We all were.”

Hiroshi’s shoulders sagged slightly.

“I just…” he murmured. “I wish Bajuro was here too.”

Footsteps echoed softly through the clouds.

Slow. Heavy. Familiar.

Hiroshi turned.

Bajuro approached, calm as ever.

“Your wish has been granted.”

Hiroshi let out a breathy laugh.

“Oh? What are you now?” he said lightly. “A genie or something?”

Bajuro chuckled.

Hiroshi stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

“Easy, child,” Bajuro said, patting his back. “I didn’t die at fifty-four like your friend here.”
He smirked faintly.
“I lived to one hundred and eight. Twice the years—twice the fragile bones.”

For the first time since arriving in Ōhana, Hiroshi laughed genuinely.

Hiroshi lowered his head slightly, his voice trembling.

“But… all of you… why are you all here?”

Bajuro stepped forward, his presence calm yet overwhelming.

“We should be asking you the same question,” he said quietly. “Why are you here?”

Hiroshi looked up.

“You don’t belong in this place,” Bajuro continued. “Not yet. You still have time. You still have a world waiting for you.”
His eyes hardened with resolve.
“You have a planet to save.”

Hiroshi’s vision blurred.

“We did not die so that you could join us,” Bajuro said. “We died so that you could live one more day. So that you could end the Varkonian rule.”

Tears welled up in Hiroshi’s eyes.

Krimson stepped forward next, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“We died to see the world free,” he said, his voice rough. “For Earth’s freedom.”

He lowered his head. His hands trembled, nails digging into his palms.

Majuro followed, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“We died,” he said, “to give you another chance. One final shot to end this… once and for all.”

Hiroshi tried to hold himself together. He bit down hard, forcing his breath steady—but it wasn’t enough.

Mei stepped closer.

“And for that,” she said softly, “you have to live. You have to liberate Earth. You have to return.”

That was it.

The dam broke.

Hiroshi’s knees buckled as he broke down completely, tears spilling freely.

“I—I can’t!” he cried. “It’s all too much…! I miss you all every single day!”
His voice cracked.
“I can’t live knowing years passed after I lost you… knowing I wasn’t even there when you all died!”

Mei raised her left hand gently, placing it beneath his face.

His tears fell into her palm—warm, trembling—gathering into a small pool.

She looked at them quietly.

“You see these?” she said. “Your tears?”

She closed her fingers slightly.

“They’re precious. Not meant to be wasted like this.”

Bajuro spoke again, his tone firm.

“Instead of shedding tears,” he said, “shed the blood of the Varkonians who caused all of this.”

Hiroshi shook his head weakly.

“But… I want to stay with Mom,” he whispered. “There’s so much to talk about… so many stories I still want to hear…”

Mei lifted her right hand and placed it against his cheek.

“Go,” she said gently.
“I’ll be waiting for you—for all of eternity.”

Her eyes softened.

“And when you do, we’ll talk day and night. Every story you missed.”
She glanced toward Bajuro with a faint smile.
“And if what Bajuro says comes true… someone else will be here too, ready to tell you even more stories.”

She looked back at Hiroshi.

“For now,” she said slowly, “you are not Bajuro’s disciple. You are not Majuro’s student. You are not Krimson’s friend.”
Her voice steadied.
“And you are not even my son.”

Hiroshi froze.

“For now,” Mei continued, “you are the Flame Demi-God—Hiroshi Soraya. The man. The myth. The legend.”
She leaned closer.
“The one the entire world believes in. You must make their faith real.”

Hiroshi stared at the tears resting in her hand.

In them, he saw his own reflection—broken, afraid.

Something shifted.

In a single breath, he straightened.

He wiped away every tear.

His eyes burned—not with grief, but with resolve.

“Go, Hiroshi” Mei whispered.

She raised her hand.

The clouds parted, forming a portal—glowing with a soft, ethereal yellow light.

“Go, Hiroshi.” Bajuro said.

Hiroshi took a step forward.

“Go, Hiroshi.” Majuro said.