The Junk Zone stretched around them in quiet disarray. Fragments of broken advertisements flickered faintly in the distance, their light struggling to pierce the heavy static that hung low in the air. Somewhere beyond the walls of forgotten data and collapsed buildings, the system pulsed and churned, oblivious for another day.

Eito sat with his back against a rusted support beam, knees drawn to his chest. The incomplete wings rested between him and Hina, faint pulses of light rippling along their edges.

Neither had spoken for a while.

Hina sat cross-legged, her expression unreadable as she traced a fingertip along the fractured surface of one wing. The pale glow reflected in her eyes, making them seem brighter than usual. Even here, in this place of broken code and forgotten debris, she maintained her practiced composure, that same distant calm that had frustrated and fascinated him in equal measure.

It was Eito who finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. "There's something you're not telling me."

Hina's hand paused. She did not look up, but her posture shifted almost imperceptibly. "What is it?"

Eito's gaze did not waver as he pointed to the wings. "The details of how they work."

The feathers buzzed softly in the space between them. Eito let the silence stretch, giving her time, but Hina only kept her focus fixed on the device.

Hina exhaled slowly. "They rewrite your place in the system. You are no longer tethered here. You can move beyond this layer."

"Just one person?"

His words were quiet, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them.

Hina's fingers stilled completely. For a moment, she did not speak. When she did, her voice was as careful as a blade. "That is how the system built them. I did not make the rules."

Eito's eyes narrowed. "But you knew."

"When I first saw a pair trying to escape together..." Hina corrected, her gaze finally lifting to meet his. "... is when I found out."

"And you were planning to only give them to me."

Eito did not press harder, but the implication hung heavy. He remembered the dream, the girl who flew, the one pair of finished wings.

"So," Eito said, shifting his weight forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Will you just accept that? One of us leaves, the other..." He trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

"No," Hina said quietly.

Surprise flickered across his face.

"I don't want that either but..." she admitted, the first raw edge of emotion slipping into her voice. Her hand lingered over the wings, fingers curling into a fist.

"Why? Why would you want to be left behind?"

For a moment, Hina's eyes drifted to the shadows beyond the Junk Zone's twisted remains. "I erased them," she said softly. "The ones who saw the cracks. The ones who might have become... more." Her voice faltered. "Human, real, free - call it what you want. I deleted them because that is what I was made to do."

Eito's jaw tensed. "You think staying behind will fix your guilt?"

"There were pairs like the girl in grey and you who found out the truth too. It did not... end well. The world doesn't need someone whose hands are stained. What world would want a human who has committed many sins a chance? The world only needs souls like yours, Eito."

He shook his head. "To give up here is no better than running away."

Their eyes locked, the atmosphere a taut, fraying line.

Finally, Eito leaned back, his expression steady. "We find another pair or another way for both of us to leave."

Hina's lips parted, as if to argue, but something in his expression stopped her. Instead, after a sigh, she nodded. "We can try."

Even though the girl was hesitant, neither of them looked ready to give up.

Together, they stood, the faint static crackling above their heads, the shadows of discarded code stretching into the distance. The wings pulsed faintly between them, holding the shape of possibility.