“I’ve always been here.” She pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in warmth that felt older than the world.

He sobbed quietly against her chest. She held him like she had never let go—not even once.

“Still crying like a kid,” she whispered, stroking his hair gently. “How old are you now, hmm? Today is your birthday. So don’t cry, bujji.”

“Where are you now?” Ren looked up, eyes swollen. “Really… where are you?”

“I can’t hide from you, huh…” She sighed playfully and sat down, pulling his head into her lap the way she used to when he was small. He stretched his legs, his breathing soft, tears still spilling.

“Well… I don’t know exactly. But I’m still in you, Ren, from the start,” she smiled down at him. “Because I knew you’d cry if I wasn’t beside you.”

“Please… don’t cry. You’ve grown now,” she brushed the tears from his cheek with her thumb. “You have to stay strong.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to me before…?” Ren whispered, voice like glass.

She paused, eyes glistening now too.

“Hey, I don’t have time to talk long, bujji. And next time… it won’t last long like this.”

She looked away for a moment, her voice quieter now—like the memory of wind.

“I didn’t speak… because I couldn’t.”

“When she died… I screamed.” Her hand tightened softly on his hair, stroking once, twice.

“I screamed the day you both used that forbidden art,” her breath trembled. “But my voice… it couldn’t reach you.”

His eyes widened.

“You can’t hear me—not until you touched your father’s face… in some way.”

“Y-You mean…?” Ren’s throat dried up. He wanted to speak, but only air came.

“Yes.” Her eyes grew distant, remembering. “Back then… for the first ten years, I chose to stay silent. I only wanted to watch you grow. But after that… even if I wanted to speak, I couldn’t.”

“I slept and watched from here,” her tears shimmered in the soft light of that blue space. “Watching my Ren… laughing sometimes… crying alone.”

Ren clutched her hand tightly. “Then please, Maa… tell me—”

A flick. Light, teasing.

WHACK! She flicked his forehead gently.

“Again with that nonsense?” she gave a tired smile. “I already told you, I don’t know where my real body is. Don’t press too hard. Besides… someone already knows.”

He blinked. “Knows what…?”

“That you’re Ren.” Her eyes softened.

“I don’t know exactly.” She shrugged faintly. “But… Tanvi. She might know.”

His heart thudded. “Maa… know us?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” she said, while wiping her tears.

“It was planned,” she chuckled softly. “How else did you touch that statue there?”

“So Maa knew… and acted in front of us?” his voice trembled.

“How would I know that, bujji?” She smiled warmly. Then her face turned solemn. “But first… promise me something.”

Ren wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice barely above a breath. “What, Maa? I’ll promise anything…”

She looked down at him—her brave, broken boy—and for the first time, the strength in her eyes faltered.

“…Reveal to Tanvi,” her voice trembled. “You don’t have to say anything else. Just say… you are Ren.”

“And ask to… feed food.” She turned her face slightly, tears falling like quiet rain.

“Why… why are you crying, Maa?” Ren’s eyes widened.

His throat clenched. “I’m used to it. I can eat…”

“At least say to that Miko girl… she knows, right? Just ask her to feed you food.”

“Maa…” He tried to speak, but words tangled in his breath.

He bit his lip. “Please stop, Maa. It’s better than being completely blind…”

But she shook her head slowly, her tears glistening, falling onto his cheeks like droplets from a sky too heavy to hold itself.

“No, don’t say that... for me, it’s different,” she gently cupped his cheeks. “Ask Tanvi, she’ll do anything for you, idiot. Just promise me.”

“Hm... I promise you. But, Maa… you don’t need to worry,” Ren wiped under his eyes, voice low, soft. “At first, it was difficult. But after a few days... I got used to it.”

She gave a teary smile. “Um... okay. What did I forget? I counted so many things to tell you... Aaa, Sakura—she looks like me.” Her smile turned faint, touched with nostalgia.

“Maa... is that name good? N-Nozomi kept it,” Ren asked hesitantly.

“Ha... and Sakura loves upma huh?” She laughed softly. “Hey! But don’t tell him! He’ll sulk against me again.”

Ren chuckled quietly.

She lit up. “Ah... now you smiled. That’s my boy.”

“Maa... don’t call him by that name…” he muttered shyly.

She tilted her head. “Huh? I’ll call that only.” Mischief sparkled in her teary eyes.

“Maa, that... that thing…”

“Ha, that?”

He took a shaky breath. “Did I... choose right? Was my decision correct?”

“Can you reverse it, Ren? You can’t, right?” Her eyes glistened, smile never leaving. She placed a hand over his heart. “Well… if you have that much doubt, ask him to go to Tanvi. She will say what I would’ve.”

Ren lowered his head. "But Maa… you say now. Back then, there was no one to ask…"

“I agree too,” she leaned in and rested her forehead against his. “And besides... you already did last night what you both were meant to do.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, like wind against a closing day. “Just… focus on that. On what’s ahead. One thing, Ren—whatever path you take…”

“I’ll support you. Always.” She smiled through trembling lips.

“Maa... please... don’t leave me. Ever again.” Ren pulled her into a tight hug, his voice shaking.

She slowly backed away, holding both his shoulders, her touch warm like sunlight caught in memory. “Hey… I already told you… next time it won’t be like this. But I can talk to you… without any trigger. Hm...”

She gave a tiny teasing pout, "But don't forget the promise, okay? You did everything… ah, and of course—sometimes you went into girls’ rooms without asking, hmm?"

“A-aa... t-that’s… Maa…” Ren stammered, cheeks coloring even in that blue void.

She laughed gently, “I didn’t scold you. I know the situations.” Her eyes softened, the way only a mother’s can.

He reached up and cupped her face, as if afraid she’d vanish with the breeze. “Maa… you didn’t change at all…”

“Okay… is there anything you want to say now?” Her smile held stillness and sorrow.

Ren blinked. “Huh?... Why are you asking like that…?”

“Just... control your anger sometimes.” She just smiled wider, bittersweet. And don’t cry now. I… I can’t see everything from now—”

Her voice trembled.

“Well... I’m going.”

She started to fade, gently, like mist melting from a leaf.

Ren’s eyes shot wide. “Maa?! Where are you going?! Don’t leave me again! Maa, please!”

His hands reached out—through her.

“Please don’t go!” Tears flooded his eyes as his voice cracked.

Her voice echoed faintly, “Hey… I said don’t cry… please…”

“Maa! At least tell me when you’ll talk to me again!”

“Oh, that—”

And she vanished.

“Maa... tell me... please... I promise I won’t cry! Just tell me... please, Maa…” he dropped to his knees in the silence of that peaceful space.

Quiet. Only the hollow sound of someone not there.

Ren’s shoulders trembled. His lips moved, but no sound came.

He was crying. “You left me again?”

His voice broke into the vastness. No one replied.

In that space… even his tears fell in silence.

****

Meanwhile…

Renshiro’s voice rang. – { 55th pair arrived! }

He turned slightly, nodding to Maki, who was already scribbling pair details onto the list. “If all pairs arrive, we’ll finalize everything.”

“Yui… if the next pair shows up, your pair can’t pass. Unless…” Haruki, arms crossed but tense, leaned toward her, his voice low. “Unless we find mismatched Kairo energies in a pairs’ submission. But… that almost won’t happen.”

But Yui wasn’t listening.

Her gaze was locked on the treeline, eyes flickering in panic, searching—for him.

Yuki’s voice echoed softly but worried. – ‘Why… why did his face look so sad when he told you to leave?’

– “I don’t know.” Yui’s voice cracked in reply, her throat thick, “I’m… I’m confused too. Why did he say that?”

A few steps away, Tanvika stood still. Her eyes misted as she murmured to herself, ‘I think he’s crying now… by seeing his mother.’

– { 56th pair, } Jiro said. Another ripple of tension danced through the checkpoint after Miko passed the information.

Her hand trembled slightly while holding the mini screen.

And then… Haruki straightened. “Time’s up.”

Yui turned with a snap, her footsteps fierce, she glared, burning holes into him.

“There’s still a chance, right?” she shot, her voice layered in disbelief and desperation. “You said it yourself… didn’t you?!”

“Y-yes,” he stammered, voice smaller now. “Yes… there is a chance.” he faltered, visibly shaken by the rawness in her eyes.

Miko sat still, eyes darting between the mini screen and the list beside her, fingers gently trembling.

“I think…” she whispered. “it’s not possible. All the pairs we checked so far submitted their crystals correctly. No mismatches.”

Beside her, Anvitha sat cross-legged on the chair, laughing softly as little Rezu playfully tapped on her mini screen. Her carefree giggles painted a stark contrast to Miko’s tense expression.

Miko leaned closer to Tanvika, voice low but tight, “Tanvika-sama… I need to ask—did something happen to the controllers?”

Tanvika, who had been silent for a while, slowly turned her face, her tone sharp. “Why?”

“I-I mean… contestant 101. He’s paired with Yui…” Miko swallowed. “But his pulse… it isn’t displaying on the mini screen.”

Tanvika’s eyes narrowed. She stood up without a word, walked a step away from the others, then leaned toward Miko and whispered coldly, “Activate your ability.”

Miko blinked, startled.

“I said activate it.”

Hesitating, Miko nodded. – { T-Tanvika-sama… }

Tanvika looked down at her. – You didn’t say anything to me… right?

– { W-what I didn’t tell you, Tanvika-sama? }

– I know they are Ren and Kazuma… and I ordered them to Stop.

Miko’s eyes widened. – { T-That’s… }

– Don’t be scared. I’m… I’m not angry. Tanvika exhaled deeply. – I understand why you didn’t. You’re following the rules you believe in.

Miko nodded slowly, still unsure, eyes clouded. – { But Tanvika-sama… why did he call out his mother? }

Tanvika looked out toward the forest, voice now trembling. – You don’t have to understand that, Miko. He’s talking to his mother right now.

Miko’s breath caught.

– This tournament? Tanvika whispered, tears glistening in her eyes but not falling. – It means nothing to him compared to her.

– That’s all. I’m waiting too… waiting for them to reveal. She stepped back and sat in the chair.

****

A light wind rustled the edge of the trees. Miko noted the pair numbers quickly, calling them out to others while listening to the other Sensemitters.

Daikin’s voice cut through the quiet like the snap of a branch. – { All pairs have arrived. }

A murmur rippled through them. Sakura, standing beside Kazuma, turned with concern in her eyes.

“Master… why hasn’t Ken come yet?” she asked, lips quivering. “He knows, right? Once the flags are found by everyone, they rush back… the round ends quickly—almost instantly. Just a few seconds’ gap.”

Inori and Hina came toward the checkpoint. “Hey Yui, your pair submitted here, right? Where is that guy? Did he go somewhere?”

“I don’t know, Sakura…” Kazuma didn’t look at Sakura. His voice was low, distant. “But you don’t need to worry about qualifying.”

Before she could respond—THUD

Ren collapsed onto the ground—face first, his body limp like a puppet with its strings cut.

Gasps echoed. Everyone turned.

Kazuma’s breath hitched—he dashed toward him. “Hey! What happened?!” he dropped beside him, kneeling, gripping his shoulder.

Ren didn’t answer.

He just stared up at Kazuma—eyes glassy, wide, unblinking… and tears—silent, endless—slid down his cheeks.

“My idiot mind…” Ren choked, “…I didn’t even ask the main question…”

Kazuma’s brows furrowed. “Hey, what are you saying? What…?”

Others were rushing now—Sakura, Yui, Inori, Haruki, Miko, Esha, Hina all surrounding them.

Sakura knelt down. “Ken… what happened? Why are you crying…?”

Ren’s mouth opened, but no words came. Only a shaky breath.

“Haruki,” Miko said quietly, stepping forward, her face pale. “I’ll check the crystals later… or call another Sensemitter.”

She crouched and pulled Ren gently into her arms—folded into her like a child.

Her eyes shimmered, but she didn’t let the tears fall. She pressed her palm to his back. – { Shhh… don’t cry. I know, Ren… I know it hurts. But control it now, just for this moment… }

“What happened to him?” Inori asked, now standing nearby, her voice quiet but sharp. “Why… why is he crying like that…?”

****

At the checkpoint, most had rushed toward Ren, forming a small crowd around him. But Anvitha and Tanvika lingered at the back—staying behind.

“He’s fine, right?” Anvitha gently asked. “Tanvika-sama…”

Tanvika didn’t respond immediately. She just exhaled… slowly. “Huh?” she finally replied, voice low. “How would I know?”

But Anvitha only smiled softly. “You’re still hiding it,” she teased, brushing invisible dust off Rezu’s head. “I’ve been watching you since morning. You never focus on someone this curiously…”

Tanvika shot her a quick look. “Don’t.”

Anvitha giggled, leaning closer. “Come on. Just… tell me who he is. And please—don’t say it’s because of his halwa.”

Tanvika let out a long sigh, pressing her thumb against her temple. “Ugh… how many people do I have to say this to…?” she murmured, more to herself than Anvitha. “They didn’t want it to be known…”

Anvitha’s smile faded slightly. She stepped closer, softer now. “So… you don’t want to tell me?”

Tanvika looked away.

“Just a clue…” Anvitha pleaded in a whisper, “Is he important to you… Tanvika-sama?”

Tanvika’s voice trembled slightly—just for a second. “Uff… Anvi…” she whispered, “Don’t ask me anything after I say this… please.”

Anvitha nodded immediately. “I won’t.”

Tanvika paused.

“My sons…” she said, her lips moving almost inaudibly. Her voice barely more than a breath. “Disappeared long ago…”

“You mean…?” Anvitha’s eyes widened.

“Yes.” Tanvika nodded. Her expression was unreadable.

She turned away. “And don’t ask me anything more.”

Anvitha stood frozen—her lips parted. She didn’t speak again.

****

Ren’s arms trembled as he clung to Miko, burying his face into her shoulder like a lost child who had just found the warmth of home and was terrified of losing it again.

– S-Senpai… his voice cracked, barely a whisper, – M-my mother… she talked to me… She was there the whole time… watching me… and I… I didn’t even ask her when we could talk again…

His shoulders shook, tears were sliding down in quiet betrayal of the strength he tried to hold.

– Please, Senpai… d-do you think… will she talk to me again?

Miko’s heart ached at the sheer vulnerability in his voice. She gently wrapped her arms around his back, her voice calm.

– { First… just breathe, okay? Calm yourself… }

She pulled back a little and gently cupped his face. – { Think, Ren… did she ever say she won’t talk to you again? }

Ren blinked, confused. – She said… she said next time it won’t be like this…

Miko smiled, her thumb brushing under his eyes. – { Then there you go, silly boy. So why are you crying just because of this? }