Ah...it had been a while.
When was it...when he felt so heavy and weightless at the same time? But it was so weird, wasn’t it? How could he feel heavy but also weightless?
Ah, he remembered it now. Of course, he would feel heavy. It had been so long since his corrosion level was this high. Was it red? Yeah, he must be in red already. Almost like that time during the city’s black gate. How long had it been? Three years ago? Six years ago? His corrosion never climbed that high after that, he never even let Bassena go into orange, so...
Ah, Bassena blinked. Where was he? Why wasn’t he with Zein? Where--and why did it feel so hot around here? Hmm...
Oh, right--Bassena blinked once again as he stared at the canopy of darkness above him. Of course, he felt weightless because he was falling. And he was falling because he felt too heavy. He raised his hand, trying to summon his mana to keep him afloat but...
Oops--that would probably have driven him to eruption, wouldn’t it?
Hmm...what to do?
Oh, well...as long as he didn’t die, Shin would patch him up, right? Even if he was on the verge of death, he still had--
"Oof--" Bassena gasped as the space behind him churned and swallowed him whole, throwing him even faster than gravity could pull him. "Wha..."
With widened eyes and bated breath, it took him a few seconds to realize he was no longer falling. And then another second to recognize the arms holding him tight. He felt the ground beneath his lower body, but his torso and head were in the cradle of a soothing touch.
Oh...what a blessing it was, to see the dark canopy shifting into a brilliant blue.
Even if that brilliant blue looked so pissed.
"Commander!"
"Bas!"
Vaguely, Bassena heard Naoya’s and Han Shin’s voices, but his mind could only focus on the pair of the most beautiful eyes in the world. "Hey?"
"I would have smacked you if you weren’t so hurt," the voice sounded curt, but also melodious. How nice. "Stop grinning."
Oops.
"Ah, does it work?" Bassena raised his head to look at the end of the fourth lane, but Zein grabbed his face.
"Stay put and look at me."
Bassena pressed his lips and stared at the stern blue eyes. Zein was scary when he got upset, and the man was pissed. Naturally, for the sake of his love life, Bassena did not budge an inch.
"Shin, heal him."
"’Kay!"
Bassena couldn’t see anything but Zein, but he could hear voices and deduce what happened. Kei continued giving instructions to the others; since there was no order for a quick retreat, it seemed that the plan was a success. Han Shin was healing him, even though his life wasn’t under immediate threat, so the others must be out of critical condition. Unless...
Unless no amount of healing could help them, of course.
Bassena remembered the two who were dead before, and in dread realized he hadn’t heard the casualty count again. Was there any more fatalities? Was everyone alright? Was--
"I told you to stay put," Zein held his face tighter, grasping the side of his eyes. "That includes your mind."
"Just--" Bassena clenched his jaw. "Just tell me no one--"
"No," Zein told him, softly this time; thumb stroking the black scales. "A lot of people need patching up, but they’ll be alright."
Only then did Bassena let out a breath of relief. "Thank you," he closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax within the soothing cradle. "Oh, and the--"
The mother clenched her hands, fingers gripping the hem of her shirt as her heart felt like it was stabbed by millions of needles.
"Right, no amount of gratitude and regret will be enough, but still, we have a responsibility to uphold regarding your son’s will. What I’m about to tell you, however, is something completely separated from this piece of paper," Radia slid the paper to the side, and, still holding the anguished gaze, he continued. "One day, this operation will come to an end. One day, we will free the East from its darkness. On that day when there’s no longer a Deathzone in the east, a city would be built."
"W-what are you talking about now? What’s the use of that city or whatever to me?!" for the first time, the mother spoke.
"In that city," the deep red eyes gazed into the furious mother’s glare. "There will be a street with your son’s name."
"...w-what?"
"Not as compensation," Radia shook his head. "Not as gratitude, or a show of regret."
The mother looked at the man in confusion, anger, and sadness that swirled so greatly it muddled her mind.
"It’s a proof," Radia continued. "It’s proof of your son’s bravery, and his willingness to make a change in this world, providing a more secure place for people to live in."
The mother’s eyes widened; this time no longer in a glare.
"In the future, people will live along that street, going about their days, and every time they write their address, or look at the signboard, they will know," Radia held the mother’s trembling hand and stared at the tears falling from her eyes. "They will know that it is only possible with the hard work and brave action of your son."
Her lips quivered as her vision got blurred.
"They will know that it’s the name of a hero."
"Ah..." the mother closed his eyes, letting out her tears and a wail filled the room, dripping into the couch.
She would not change the couch. She would not throw it out even if it broke down. But perhaps, someday, when she saw her son’s name on that street, she might be able to.
Because then, she wouldn’t need the couch as a reminder anymore.
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