Making things right (Final)
Imported from SF2 with no description.
“So, this is what you've always seen?" Yuki asked, her voice soft as her gaze swept across the forest. Her left eye remained shut, relying entirely on mine to perceive the world around her.
A small chuckle escaped me. “Feels empty, doesn't it? At least compared to what you see."
The waves hadn't vanished; they still continued to flow around us. It was disorienting, the way they moved and shifted in ways I wasn't used to. I had to close my right eye often just to keep from feeling like the ground beneath me was shifting. But I knew I'd get used to it with time.
“It's peaceful in a different way," she admitted, tilting her head slightly. “Do you still feel tired?"
I shook my head. “It's getting better."
This morning had been a blur, a rush of too many things to take in all at once. Yuki and I had spoken briefly, and she had told me everything that happened. It was overwhelming, especially with my father. That was why we were heading back to the shrine—to face him again. But this time, I wasn't worried anymore. I knew things were different now and, for better or worse, the truth was out in the open.
But I can't deny there are some butterflies in my stomach. This would be Yuki's first time seeing the shrine and my home. But I put those thoughts to the side. For now, I'm just trying to come to terms with everything. My gaze drifted to Yuki, and for a moment, the heaviness of the morning faded. She looked... beautiful. All the scars had disappeared. I asked her why, but she only smiled, the answer simple.
"My soul is complete."
The thought sent warmth rushing to my face, and I glanced away, embarrassed by how easily she could fluster me. It was strange to be alive again, but if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that I was happy. Yuki and I were together again. No more doubts. No more distance. Just us. We broke from the forest's edge and there was the shrine.
My father sat on the porch, bathed in morning sunlight. The soft glow revealed what I hadn't noticed before—cuts, bruises, wounds both fresh and healing. When he saw us, he rose instinctively, taking a step forward before hesitating. Even though my father had done the right thing, apologized, and Yuki had forgiven him, I still hesitated.
“His son was dead yesterday," Yuki stated, matter-of-fact, before shoving me toward him. “Have your moment."
I stumbled, catching myself just in time. Yuki had changed since last night. Her forgiving my father wasn't just for him—it was for her. A way to free herself from the weight of the past, but also a quiet push for me to do the same. She had cut the chains, and in doing so, she'd shown me that holding onto anger, to the past, was a choice. A choice that now felt small.
I looked at my father, and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to truly think about him. About everything. The hardest part of all of this was that I had never hated him. I hated his choices, what he did, what he didn't do. But in the end… he was still my father. I closed the distance between us and hugged him without hesitation. He held me tightly, and I could feel the tremble in his body.
He didn't need to say anything—I already knew. Misguided as it was, he had done what he thought was best for me. But now, he finally understood that was never his choice to make. After a long moment, we pulled apart. Yuki stepped beside me, and my father drew a slow breath, steadying himself. He looked at me first, then at Yuki.
“Please, come inside. There are a few things we need to discuss."
He turned without hesitation and entered. I stood there for a moment, letting it sink in. Yuki was about to enter my home. I glanced at her, unable to stop the small smile forming on my lips.
“Welcome home."
Yuki stepped inside, her gaze drifting across the space as she took everything in. It was strange—familiar in some ways, yet filled with objects she didn't recognize. Some, she assumed, were technological advancements beyond her understanding. Others simply felt out of place, as if they didn't belong in a shrine at all.
Still, what stood out the most wasn't the objects but Tasuke himself. His joy radiated so strongly that it almost overwhelmed her senses. Seeing him this happy, in a place that was once out of reach, she followed him without hesitation. Deep down, she understood—this was a dream he had never even realized he wanted.
They entered a sitting area where his father was already waiting, seated at a low table with his legs crossed. His expression was unreadable as he watched them approach. Tasuke took his seat and patted the empty spot beside him. Yuki smirked, coiling herself next to him without hesitation. They sat across from his father; the silence stretching between them before he finally spoke, bowing his head.
“I have a lot of reflection to do with my life." He spoke with shame. “But that isn't why we've gathered this morning." His gaze lifts, steadying on his son. “I will not pretend I understand how this happened, but I have no right to tell you who you can or can't love. That much was made clear last night."
A breath escaped him, almost reluctantly, the memories of the previous night still haunting him. He shifted slightly, his fingers pressing together in thought.
“I'm sure you've considered this already," he continued, his tone measured. “What it means for—" he hesitated, looking at Yuki before settling on her name. “For Yuki to be free. In our world, she would suffer if anyone knew she existed." His eyes flickered back to Tasuke. “But that's not why we need to talk. I will not interfere with how you wish to handle things. But what happened last night... it changes everything."
Tasuke's brows furrowed. “What do you mean?"
His father took a slow, steadying breath before placing an ancient scroll on the table. “I've poured over the archives," he began, his voice heavy with the burden of discovery. “I thought the exchange would simply heal you, but what I felt in that moment—it was as if the world itself was watching... Nothing so simple could've been the outcome." He unfurled the scroll. “We have stories told during the age of dragons. Whispers, really, but none knew the cause."
“Whispers of what?“ Yuki inquired.
“Of those who were blessed," he replied. “Humans who didn't age, who could see things beyond this world. But when asked how, they never gave answers. They only ever said the same thing: 'I am loved.'"
“So… what does this have to do with us?" Tasuke asked.
His father met his gaze. “Do you wonder what happened to them? If they don't age, why aren't they around anymore?" He paused, letting the question settle before answering. “Someone killed their other half."
“Excuse me?" Yuki's voice was a whisper of disbelief.
His father sighed, facing her fully. “It's just a theory, but after what I witnessed last night, I believe Tasuke has become the same. He is now blessed and will never age past this day. He's frozen in your love." His voice was soft, but every word carried a weight that anchored them both in place. “But if the scrolls are to be believed… should you die, his soul will follow."
Yuki's response was immediate, without hesitation. “Then there's nothing to worry about. I'll make sure he's never harmed."
Tasuke's father studied her intently, his expression softening with relief, though still tinged with caution.
“There are far greater threats in the world you don't yet understand," he warned. “My biggest fear is time." He let the words settle before turning to Tasuke. “You must play your cards carefully from now on, son. This shrine will be your blessing for decades, perhaps even centuries. Many will never question you as the son of a father who has long since passed—or even one who never existed. But if anyone learns the truth..." He trailed off, the meaning clear. “You must be ready to run."
It was a lot to take in, and for the very first time, Yuki felt a new sense of unease. Tasuke's existence was bound to her in a way she hadn't fully grasped. This was more than just love—more than a second chance. It was permanence, a future that stretched far beyond human limits and a world that had left her behind long ago. She turned toward him, expecting to see concern, but a small smile formed on his lips.
“We have many years before that happens," he said. “But I promise, I'll be ready."
His father watched him for a long moment before a quiet chuckle escaped. “You were always the one who looked ahead the furthest." Then, as if shaking off the weight of the conversation, he took another breath. “Then it's about time we resume your training. There are a few relics here that will help in the future. But that can come later."
His eyes flickered to Yuki before settling back on Tasuke.
“Show her around. You've waited long enough."
I nod, standing up before waving for Yuki to follow. There's a lot of information to take in, too much to process all at once, but my heart is racing. Not because of the weight of what my father just told me, not because of the warnings or the uncertainties of the future. No, it's because of her. Because Yuki and I will be together forever, and now, I finally get to show her my home.
I guided her through the shrine, the wooden floors creaking softly beneath our steps. Every hallway, every corner carries memories, though none as heavy as they once were. Yuki's presence makes everything feel lighter, like this place isn't just a relic from my past anymore, but something that can exist in my present.
“This is the main hall," I say as we step into the open space. “We used to hold ceremonies here, but it's been quiet lately."
Yuki moves beside me, her serpentine body weaving with natural grace as she glances around. “It feels like it's been waiting," she murmurs.
Maybe it has. I lead her through the gardens next. The stone paths are cracked, the once-tamed flora now wild and sprawling. The koi pond remains untouched, the water still as glass, reflecting the shrine's aging beauty. Yuki dips her head slightly, nostrils flaring as she takes in the scents around her. The way her long body moves through the space, barely disturbing the grass, reminds me of the wind itself. She doesn't speak, but I can tell she's absorbing every detail.
Eventually, I take her to my room. It's simple. A futon neatly folded in the corner, shelves lined with books and manga, all precisely arranged. I never considered myself obsessive, but I always liked knowing where things were. It made life easier.
Yuki glances over the shelves as she studies the spines. “You read a lot."
I shrug. “I had a lot of time to myself before I met you.
Her eyes linger on the neat rows of books before she shifts slightly in the open space. “It suits you," she says.
Something about that makes my chest feel warm. But this isn't the room I wanted her to see most.
“Come on," I say, nudging my head toward the door.
Yuki follows, moving beside him with quiet curiosity. She had already seen so much of this place. So why does he still seem so eager? There's something different about him now. Lighter, almost buzzing with a quiet excitement. She watches him carefully, noting the way his steps quicken just slightly, the way he looks back at her as if anticipating her reaction.
What could he possibly want to show her next? They enter another room, and Yuki slows.
It's empty.
No furniture, no personal belongings, nothing that suggests anyone ever spent time here. The walls are bare, the floor undisturbed. But against the far end of the room, resting atop a small altar, is a single framed picture. Yuki's gaze lingers on it, something shifting in her chest. Tasuke steps forward, kneeling before the photograph with an ease that suggests he has done this many times before. This is something sacred to him.
He glances back at her, gesturing for her to join him. Without a word, Yuki lowers herself onto the floor beside him, coiling neatly as her eyes settle on the image.
“Mom," Tasuke says, his voice steady, warm. “I want you to meet someone." Yuki remains silent, watching him closely. “This is Yuki," he continues. “She's… everything."
There's a softness in the way he speaks, a familiarity that makes it seem as if the woman in the picture is still here, listening. For a moment, Yuki wonders if that's how he sees it—if, in his mind, his mother is sitting across from him, smiling as she always had. If he can feel her presence in a way no one else can. The warmth in his voice doesn't waver, but something shifts as he continues.
“You'd like her," he murmurs. “She's very kind and she keeps me on my toes." His smile lingers, but it's softer now. “I hope you're watching," he says, quieter this time. “I hope you know that I'm okay. That things are different now."
There's so much in his words—so much love, so much longing. Not in a way that aches, not in a way that hurts, but in a way that speaks of time. Of waiting. Of wanting to share something with someone who was no longer there. And yet, in this moment, it feels like she is. Tasuke doesn't rush through his words. He sits with them, lets them breathe, as if making sure they settle in whatever space his mother now exists. Then, after a pause, a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“You probably didn't expect the girl of my dreams to be a dragon," Tasuke muses, tilting his head slightly. “But love doesn't always make sense, does it?" There's something almost knowing in his voice, like he can already hear the response that will never come. “But I doubt you could say much," he continues, the smirk lingering. “After all, you went after Dad. How does someone in a biker gang settle down with a priest?"
He shakes his head slightly, as if even now, he's trying to piece it together.
“One of the last things you told me was to follow my heart… and I did," Tasuke says quietly. “And now, I think I get it." His gaze lingers on the picture, his expression unreadable, but there's no sadness in his voice. Only understanding. “Whatever you saw in Dad, whatever made you choose him… I guess that's all that really mattered in the end." His lips curve slightly, a small, quiet smile. “And I get that now."
He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't need to. Reaching for a small box beside the altar, he takes out a stick of incense, lighting it carefully. The faint scent of sandalwood fills the air as he places it in the burner, watching as the thin stream of smoke curls upward. He bows his head slightly, clasping his hands together in silent prayer. A moment passes. Then another.
Finally, he exhales, his shoulders settling as he rises, and steps back.
“Come on," he says, his voice lighter now as he looks at Yuki. “There's still more to see."
She lingers, her gaze settling on the picture. For a long moment, Yuki simply looks—at the woman who meant so much to him, but also the one who gave him life, who shaped the path that led him here. Even in silence, there is something of her still here, something that has never truly left.
“Don't worry," she says softly. “I'll protect him, no matter what."
She doesn't wait any longer. With that promise left in the air, she turns and follows Tasuke, stepping forward without hesitation. Behind her, the incense continues to burn, the last tendrils of smoke drift into the sky, carrying her words with them. The future is uncertain, but that doesn't matter.
Because together, they will make things right.