The clouds drifted lazily overhead, thin and slow, stretching across the bright blue sky. Aira lay flat on her back atop the picnic blanket, one arm folded beneath her head, the other resting loosely over her stomach. She watched the clouds pass as if they might offer answers if she stared long enough.

  She was feeling better. The lingering tremor from the Hollow incident had dulled into something quieter. But her thoughts still wandered in circles she didn’t fully understand.

  Footsteps approached over the grass. Aira shifted slightly, propping herself up on her elbows before sitting upright. The slight incline of the slope framed the figure walking toward her, and the moment she recognized the familiar silhouette, her entire expression brightened.

  “Bestie!” she beamed, already pushing herself up properly. “I missed you!!”

  Yoru reached the blanket and knelt before sitting down beside her, movements gentle as always. “Hi, Aira,” she said softly, studying her face with quiet concern. “Are you doing okay?”

  Aira waved off the concern with exaggerated confidence, though her smile held real warmth. “I’m fine. I feel better now. Promise.”

  Yoru seemed to relax slightly at that. Then, after a small, almost shy pause, she reached into her bag.

  “I made you something,” she said.

  She carefully pulled out a small, intricate pin. It caught the sunlight immediately, shimmering in delicate threads and enamel. Aira leaned forward instinctively, breath catching as she took it in.

  It depicted a fox-like creature with feathered wings and an elegant, splayed tail reminiscent of a peacock’s. The body was embroidered primarily in white thread with subtle silver accents, while the tail exploded outward in woven strands of prismatic color. It shimmered softly, like light refracted through glass.

  Aira’s jaw dropped.

  “Yoru,” she breathed, cradling it in her hands as if it were something fragile. “You made this???”

  Yoru nodded, cheeks faintly pink. “Amari recently got me into embroidery and pin-making. I wanted to make a get well gift for you.”

  Aira felt something tighten in her chest. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her friend in an enthusiastic hug.

  “It’s beautiful! You didn’t have to make me a gift. I love it sooo much!! Thank you!”

  Yoru accepted the hug easily, returning it with a soft smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Like it?” Aira pulled back, clutching the pin to her chest dramatically. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me!” She beamed. “I’m attaching this to my journal immediately. I bring that everywhere. It deserves a place of honor.”

  She reached into her bag and pulled out her well-worn light blue hardback journal. The elastic band keeping it closed was slightly stretched from years of use. With careful precision, she attached the pin to the elastic.

  She held it up, admiring how the prismatic tail caught the light against the soft blue cover. It looked like it had always belonged there. Her fingers traced the embroidered wings thoughtfully.

  “This is Py, right?”

  Yoru nodded, smiling. “Yeah. I saw it at the museum. It really inspired me.”

  Aira’s eyes lit up instantly. “Oh! I’m pretty sure Py’s full name is something ridiculously long and official. Some kind of mythological protocol title or something. No one remembers it. So everyone just calls it Py.”

  Yoru considered that, expression soft. “I think Py is a cute name.”

  “That’s exactly why it stuck!” Aira grinned triumphantly. “See? Marketing genius.”

  She leaned closer to the journal again, still admiring the way the threads shimmered in the sunlight. Her earlier heaviness had eased without her fully noticing, making everything feel lighter.

  “What else did you see at the museum?” she asked eagerly, already curious, already brighter than she had been an hour ago.

  Yoru started telling her about the museum, and Aira found herself leaning in almost immediately as she described the exhibits—the fossils, the holographic projections, the endless displays. Then Yoru mentioned the lockdown, how there had been a sudden emergency and everything had powered down. By the time she casually explained how she had reset the generator, Aira was staring at her like she’d just revealed she’d casually defused a bomb.

  “That must’ve been so scary!” Aira burst out, half horrified and half impressed. “You literally saved everyone. You’re such a hero!”

  “No, no—it wasn’t like that,” Yoru said quickly, shaking her head. “I couldn’t have done it without your brother. He talked me through everything and told me exactly what to do.”

  Aira blinked, caught off guard.

  “Akio was there?” she repeated, the pieces rearranging themselves in her mind.

  “Yeah,” Yoru said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and offering a small, almost shy smile. “We went together. He bought my ticket, and during the blackout he just… told me what to do. He stayed really calm and walked me through everything.”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Aira tilted her head slowly, tone carefully neutral. “I see…”

  Internally, she filed that away for later. Akio taking her best friend to the museum and buying her ticket? That was information. Not necessarily incriminating—but worth reviewing. She would absolutely be pressing him about it at the earliest opportunity.

  “What about you?” Yoru asked gently. “How have things been? Everyone’s worried. We miss you.”

  Aira looked up at the sky before straightening, energy returning in a bright burst. “It’s been good!” she said quickly. “I stayed with Akiren and Adrian. They took really good care of me. I got to eat a ton of food, and we watched movies, and Adrian kept making terrible jokes the entire time—”

  As she recounted the past few days, a quieter feeling slipped back in. The laughter had filled the space temporarily, but underneath it there had been something hollow. A strange emptiness she hadn’t quite been able to shake.

  Her gaze dropped to the picnic mat beneath her fingers.

  “I…” She hesitated, the brightness dimming just slightly. “Honestly, I’ve been feeling kind of lost.”

  Aira lay back down, folding her arms behind her head and staring up at the open sky. The clouds drifted lazily overhead, unconcerned with anything happening below.

  “The thing with the Hollow,” she continued quietly, “it really scared me. I always knew what I was doing was risky, but I told myself that finding the answers was worth it.”

  She raised one hand toward the sky, fingers splayed against the bright blue backdrop. For a moment, she studied her own hand as if it belonged to someone else.

  “I started writing because I wanted to understand what happened. I wanted to feel less helpless. But now that the Hollow’s back… and it almost killed me again…” Her voice wavered just slightly before steadying. “I don’t know if I want that closure anymore. I don’t know if it’s even worth it.”

  Her hand lowered slowly, coming to rest over her stomach.

  “I’ve been chasing answers for years. Writing articles. Taking photos. Following every thread I can find. And for what? In the end… does it even matter?”

  Yoru went quiet for a moment. Then, without rushing to fill the space, she slowly lay down on the blanket and turned her face toward the sky. She didn’t speak right away.

  Aira continued talking, because the silence made it easier somehow—like she didn’t have to look directly at anyone while saying it.

  “Even if I find closure,” she said softly, eyes tracing the shape of a passing cloud, “nothing would actually change. The Hollow would still exist. It would probably still keep killing people. Me knowing the truth doesn’t stop that.”

  Her fingers curled lightly against the blanket.

  “Wanting closure is kind of… self serving, isn’t it? It’s not like I’m saving the world. I just want answers because I want them. That’s it.”

  She shifted slightly, rolling onto her side before staring back up at the sky again. “It only matters because it matters to me. That’s the only reason I keep risking my life for it. But after almost dying…” She let out a shaky breath. “I keep thinking—if I just let it go, if the truth stopped mattering to me, then I wouldn’t have to search anymore. And maybe that’s the smarter choice.”

  Her chest felt heavy.

  “The thing with Echo really got to me,” she admitted. “Just… seeing how easily everything can end. How fragile we are. It’s terrifying.” She swallowed. “Is it really worth risking all of that for what’s basically self validation?”

  She turned her head slightly, staring at the edge of the picnic blanket. “And it feels selfish. It doesn’t really benefit anyone else. It just makes people who care about me worry. Akio worries. You worry.”

  Her voice softened. “So I keep wondering if I should even keep doing this.”

  The words settled between them.

  A long moment passed. Aira stared at the clouds again, feeling oddly empty. Journalism had taken up so much of her life. Without it, she wasn’t sure who she would be. She felt lost, like a compass with no direction.

  Yoru’s voice finally broke the silence, soft but steady.

  “You like journalism, right?”

  Aira nodded automatically. “Yeah. I do.”

  “Then I don’t think it’s selfish,” Yoru said gently. “If it matters to you, that’s already meaningful.”

  She paused, gazing up at the sky, thoughtful. “And it’s not just about you, your blog helps other people find closure too. There are survivors who don’t know how to tell their stories. Or they’re too afraid to. You give them a voice. You make sure they’re remembered.”

  She turned her head to look at Aira with a small, earnest smile.

  “There’s a reason your blog is so popular,” she added, “It’s the way you honor people’s stories. You’re not chasing drama. You’re seeking truth in a way that feels genuine.”

  Aira’s throat tightened unexpectedly.

  “You really think so?” she asked quietly.

  Yoru’s smile softened. “I really like your blog. It brings me joy. It makes me feel like someone cares enough to remember.”

  She hesitated slightly. “Maybe you can take a break right now. You don’t have to rush back into it. But if journalism helps anchor you… if it brings you purpose and happiness… I don’t think that’s something worth giving up.”

  Aira looked back at the sky, letting those words sink in. She had always told herself she was chasing answers for closure. But maybe she had also been telling stories because someone needed to tell them. Because survivors deserved to be heard. Because silence felt worse.

  The heaviness in her chest didn’t disappear entirely, but it shifted. She realized she wasn’t chasing truth just for herself—she was preserving it.

  And maybe that mattered more than she had realized.

  A sudden swell of emotion rose in Aira’s chest so quickly it startled her. Before she could overthink it, she pushed herself upright and turned toward Yoru, who was still lying beside her on the blanket.

  “Thank you, bestie,” she said, opening her arms without hesitation. Her voice wobbled just slightly, but her smile was bright. “You’re right. I’m going to keep doing what I love.”

  Yoru sat up and slipped into the hug easily, steady and warm in that quiet way of hers. Aira squeezed her a little tighter than usual before finally pulling back.

  She reached for her journalism notebook again, brushing some stray blades of grass from the cover before resting it in her lap. The embroidered pin of Py shimmered softly in the sunlight, threads catching the light with every slight movement. Aira traced over the wings with her thumb, smiling fondly. This notebook was filled with stories, theories, scribbled timelines, interviews, late night ideas—pieces of people’s lives preserved in ink. It wasn’t just paper. It meant something.

  “I think I’m gonna take a break for a bit,” she said thoughtfully, still looking at the pin. “And then continue again when I feel like it. Akio’s gonna be happy to hear that.”

  Yoru let out a soft giggle. “You think so?”

  Aira laughed, grinning as she hugged the notebook loosely to her chest. “Yeah. I miss him. Akiren is fun, but the age gap is kind of big, so sometimes he has no idea what I’m talking about. Akio’s only like… two and a half years older than me. It just feels easier to talk to him sometimes.”

  Her expression brightened further as another thought struck her. “I’m gonna see him later tonight with Hyakki—just a quick hello before Hyakki and I go with the others to the movie. They’re finally going to meet!”

  She threw her hands up in mild celebration. “Feels like I’ve been trying for forever!”

  Yoru smiled at that. “Third time’s the charm.”

  Aira groaned dramatically, flopping back slightly. “Gah! I hope! I swear it’s like the universe doesn’t want them to meet or something.”

  Her energy softened again as her gaze drifted back to the pin. When she thought of Hyakki, her chest warmed in a different way. She remembered the way he had carried her after the Hollow attack, the way he had stayed with her at the police station when asked. She hadn’t properly processed how much that had meant.

  She missed him too. More than she would probably admit out loud.

  “Should I get Hyakki a thank you gift?” she asked suddenly, looking at Yoru again. “For helping me that night?”

  Yoru tilted her head thoughtfully, smile gentle. “That could be a nice gesture.”

  Aira’s eyes lit up with renewed determination. “Okay but—what would I even get him?? You have to help me decide!”

  The heaviness from earlier had fully dissolved now, replaced by something warmer and forward-moving. The two of them fell into easy conversation, ideas bouncing back and forth between them, laughter slipping out naturally.

  As the afternoon sunlight stretched longer across the grass, Aira felt something settle inside her. Not certainty about everything. But direction.

  And for now, that was all she needed.

  ─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─

  Akio