The hardest part wasn't the broken windows.
Or the peeling paint.
Or the cracks in the walls.
The hardest part…
Was rebuilding himself.
---
Urime Atsumi was used to running.
Running from failure.
Running from his name.
Running from himself.
But Hinata?
She never let him run far.
---
The community center stood half-finished.
The bills stacked up.
The future? Still uncertain.
But every morning, Hinata was there.
With stubborn optimism…
And terrible instant noodles.
> "Eat up," she teased, handing him a bowl.
"Fuel for the soul."
Urime poked the noodles, unimpressed.
> "You sure this won't kill me faster?"
"Better than pride and hunger."
---
They spent the days scraping by.
Painting. Cleaning. Teaching the kids who wandered in.
At night, they sat on the apartment floor…
Eating cheap food.
Laughing at their bad luck.
And planning for better days.
---
> "Do you miss it?" Hinata asked one evening.
"The money. The power."
Urime thought for a long moment.
The penthouses.
The parties.
The fake friends.
> "Not really," he admitted.
"But I miss… feeling like I mattered."
Hinata smiled softly.
She leaned in, her voice steady.
> "You matter now. You just have to see it."
---
Outside, the city lights flickered.
The storms rolled on.
But inside their little apartment…
The foundation was steady.
And together…
They were learning how to stand.
---
To Be Continued…