He keeps walking …
Each step heavier than the last, every breath struggle between life and surrender. His body aches … broken, bloodied, trembling … but still, he moves forwards. One step, then another. Driven by something beyond pain. Beyond duty. Beyond reason.
And then, he stops.
Before him stands a tree … radiant, impossibly alive. It bark glows with warmth its leaves shimmer a soft emerald under the pale sun. Around him, snow stretches endlessly, yet not a single flake dares touch this tree. It stands untouched, unyielding. Like a memory untouched by time.
Kaito’s breath escapes him, ragged and shallow. His eyes open wider, disbelieving, as though he’s seeing something he had only ever dreamed of. His lips part … he wants to speak … but no words come. Only a quiver, and then, the slow gathering of tears.
He takes one last, trembling step forward. Then another.
Until his knees give way.
He collapses beneath the tree. His palms press into its roots, fingers tracing the ancient lines of the bark as if searching for something … familiar. Blood slips from his mouth, a faint trickle down his chin, but he doesn’t feel it.
“I’m … sorry …”
The words scrape from his throat, rough and breaking.
“That … it … took …”
His breath catches. Weakens. Each inhale smaller than the last.
“So … long …”
A tear falls, cutting through the grime on his cheeks.
“To come …”
He exhales … long, quiet … final.
And through that breath comes a sound … half sob, half relief.
“… Home.”
The silence that follows is heavy, yet gentle.
Then, the tree stirs.
Its leaves loosen, drifting down in slow, graceful spirals … falling like the touch of hands long remembered. hey settle around him, upon him, as if cradling him at last.
And in that hush … between the falling snow and the whispering wind … a voice, soft and tender … speaks.
A woman’s voice, warm and waiting, filled with love long kept.