Yumi stood alone at the station, her eyes drifting between the clock and her phone screen. The sky had begun to shift, soft hues of gold and blue blending into each other as the day moved forward.
Her phone buzzed again.
A message from Sol.
"Yumi, I'll come on the last train."
She stared at the words for a moment, her fingers tightening slightly around the phone.
A soft smile curved her lips.
"So... he's really coming," she whispered.
She looked up at the train schedule, then back at the message. Her heart felt heavy—but determined.
"Then I'll go now," she said to herself. "I'll arrive before him."
Without hesitating, Yumi turned and stepped onto the next departing train heading toward Fukuoka.
The doors closed behind her.
And just like that…
She was gone.
Evening — Fukuoka
The train doors slid open with a soft chime, and Yumi stepped out into the dusky warmth of Fukuoka.
The breeze carried the familiar scent of the city—so different from Tokyo, yet comforting in its own quiet way. She pulled her coat a little tighter around her, her steps steady as she walked toward the place she hadn't seen in years.
"It's been a long time," she murmured. "Since I saw them…"
Her voice trailed off, eyes glancing toward the fading sun.
But the organizations...
I just hope they're safe.
The streets grew quieter as she moved deeper into the residential area, where time felt like it had slowed down. No neon lights. Just old homes, empty streets, and distant cicadas.
At last, she stood before the house.
A traditional Japanese home, nestled behind Sawaradai East Park, half-covered by thick green trees and the evening shadows.
It looked exactly the same.
Like time hadn't touched it.
"…It never changed," Yumi whispered.
She stepped forward, sliding open the gate with a soft creak. Gravel crunched beneath her feet. The house stood still, dignified and silent—as if it had been waiting.
But inside…
She could hear voices.
Low. Controlled. Serious.
She paused by the door and listened.
A clan meeting? Now?
Inside the house, deep in its central room, the Ayanami Clan was gathered. Men and women in traditional clothing, seated formally, their expressions grave.
Yumi stood frozen outside the doorway, her breath catching.
"…Why now…?"
Yumi stepped quietly into the house.
The wooden floorboards creaked softly under her weight, and the scent of old tatami mixed with faint incense filled her chest with nostalgia. She slipped off her shoes, her hand brushing the frame of the entrance as if to confirm it was real.
A voice called out, distant but sharp.
"Who's there?"
Yumi froze.
Footsteps approached—firm, steady. Then the shoji door slid open, revealing a woman in a dark blue kimono, her hair tied back neatly.
Yumi's breath caught.
"...Mom."
Her mother stood in silence, eyes wide, lips parting slightly in disbelief. The air between them hung heavy for a moment.
"Yumi?"
Yumi nodded slowly, her voice soft. "I'm home."
A pause. Then, without warning, her mother stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. Not tight—hesitant, but trembling with emotion.
"You… After all this time…"
"I'm sorry," Yumi whispered, her face buried against her mother's shoulder. "I should've come sooner."
Her mother pulled back slightly to look at her. "You've grown… but your eyes still carry the same weight." She brushed a strand of hair behind Yumi's ear. "Are you eating well?"
Yumi smiled faintly. "I try."
"I heard… things. Tokyo. Trouble."
Yumi looked down. "I didn't come here to bring that trouble with me."
"But it follows you anyway," her mother said, her tone soft but knowing. "Still... I'm glad you're here."
They stood in silence for a while, the sounds of the clan meeting echoing faintly from the other room. Then her mother stepped aside and gestured toward the hallway.
"Come. You should eat something."
Yumi nodded. But just before following, she asked quietly, "Mom… why is the clan gathered tonight?"
Her mother's face grew serious. "Something's stirring. The world is moving again. And not all of it is good."
Yumi's heart sank.
So even here… I can't escape it.
The voices in the next room began to fade. Shoji doors slid shut. One by one, footsteps echoed through the wooden corridors as the clan elders filed out.
Yumi stood silently in the hallway, watching shadows disappear into the night.
Then she heard it—a familiar voice, quieter now, more mature, but unmistakable.
"…You should've said something if you were coming."
She turned.
At the end of the hallway stood a young man in a dark, modern yukata. His eyes were sharp, the same color as hers, but colder now. Years had carved maturity into his face, but she would have known him anywhere.
"Ren…" she breathed.
Ren Ayanami leaned against the wooden pillar, arms crossed. "You didn't even message me. Not a call. Not a single text in three years."
Yumi walked toward him slowly, her expression guilty. "I didn't know if I deserved to."
He snorted, but his voice cracked just slightly. "You're stupid."
Yumi stopped in front of him, unsure what to say.
Then Ren moved—and suddenly, he hugged her. No words. Just arms around her like when they were kids and she used to cry after scraping her knee.
"You idiot," he said quietly. "We waited."
Yumi bit her lip, her voice shaking. "I'm sorry. I… I had to disappear."
Ren pulled back just a little to look at her. "Are you in trouble?"
She hesitated.
His eyes narrowed. "Yumi."
"I don't want to drag you into it," she said honestly.
"Tch. We're family. You don't drag me in—you start with me."
She let out a small laugh, wiping her eyes. "Still dramatic."
"And you're still selfish," he said, but he was smiling now. "Come on. Dad made your favorite food. And I know you're starving."
He threw an arm around her shoulder and started walking.
For the first time in a long time, Yumi felt warm.
But in the back of her mind, the storm hadn't passed. It was only getting closer.
The evening air in Fukuoka was quiet, draped in the soft hush of countryside calm. Yumi stepped out onto the engawa of the old Ayanami house. The wood creaked softly beneath her bare feet. A gentle breeze swept in from Sawaradai East Park behind the home, carrying the scent of trees and memory.
She wrapped her arms around herself. The clan meeting was over, the old voices had faded, but the weight in her chest remained.
Her phone buzzed.
She pulled it from her sleeve.
A message from Sol.
Sol on phone, he said.
"I'm on the train. I'll arrive around midnight."
She blinked.
"…You're seriously coming?" she whispered aloud, typing the words with a hint of disbelief.
His reply came quickly.
"Yes." Sol whispered.
Yumi stood still. Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
Midnight.
He wasn't joking.
She sighed, her breath visible in the chilly evening air. A small smile formed on her lips—tired, but warm.
"Idiot."
She opened her maps app, tapped out a location, and sent it.
'Here. Send me a message when you arrive."Yumi said.
Sol said. "Got it. See you soon."
She locked her phone, then stared out into the night where the town slept quietly beyond the park trees.
"…He's really coming."
The wind stirred the edge of her sleeve. Somewhere far off, the hum of a distant train echoed in the dark.