Morning arrived much like any other.

Fuyuki was already dressed in his temple robes, adjusting the strap of the satchel slung over his shoulder.

Eiji stood at the entrance of the estate.

"Take care! And good luck with your tests later!"

Fuyuki flashed a bright smile. "Thanks! See you later!"

He sprinted through the gate, disappearing into the snowy streets. The estate fell quiet once more. A graceful elderly woman approached with careful, measured steps.

"Breakfast is ready, Master Eiji," Lady Tsuki said with a gentle bow. "Please don't let it grow cold."

Eiji returned the bow. "Thank you, Lady Tsuki. I'll be there shortly."

She smiled and left him alone.

…

There had once been a time when mornings filled him with anticipation. If not excitement, then at least peace.

Now they brought neither.

The winter wind brushed against his fur. It felt colder than he remembered.

Or perhaps...

He had simply forgotten what warmth felt like.

From the veranda, Hyosei watched his son in silence. The emptiness in Eiji's eyes struck him harder than any blade.

His hand tightened around the wooden railing.

"I'm sorry, Eiji..." he whispered to himself.

"I only hope that one day... you'll understand."

By afternoon, the pale sun hung low behind layers of gray clouds. Hyosei knelt beside the ring of Tsutsumi Flowers surrounding the village.

Their purple-blue petals had begun to wilt. He gently brushed one with his fingertips.

Its faint glow flickered… Then faded.

"So..." A familiar voice came from behind him. "...you've noticed it too."

Hyosei rose. "Good afternoon, Asatsuyu."

The Vice General stepped beside him. Neither spoke for several moments. They simply looked upon the dying flowers.

Finally, Asatsuyu sighed.

"Their sacred magic is fading."

Hyosei lowered his gaze.

"I've been watching it happen for days."

…

At the docks, Eiji stepped off the ship with only a small bundle of belongings tucked beneath his arm.

He paused at the end of the gangplank.

Not long ago, he dreamed that every voyage would be filled with anticipation, every return would carry stories worth telling. And for a short while, he had lived that life.

Now…

Home felt no different from leaving.

Several crewmates approached and quietly patted his shoulder as they passed. No words. None were needed. Eiji offered a faint smile.

The frozen sea crashed gently against the walls of ice. The sound echoed through the harbor. He stared toward the horizon long after the others had walked away.

The wind blew across his face.

Once...

It had carried dreams. Now it carried nothing at all.

"Eiji..."

No answer.

"Eiji."

Still nothing.

"Hey!"

Eiji blinked.

He found Fuyuki staring at him from across the dinner table.

"Huh?"

"I've been talking to you!"

Eiji rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry... I drifted off."

Fuyuki pushed a bowl toward him.

"Try the chicken soup."

A faint smile appeared.

"I used the pepper and garlic powder you brought back from Aqmier, and Lady Tsuki helped me with it."

Steam rose from the bowl.

Eiji took a careful sip.

Warmth spread through his chest. He smiled.

A real one.

"This is delicious, Fuyu-kun."

His brother beamed. Then his smile slowly faded.

"...It'd taste even better if my brother came home."

Eiji looked up. "What do you mean? I’m right here."

Eiji met his eyes. Fuyuki hesitated.

"But it feels like you left yourself behind in Aqmier."

Silence settled over the room.

"I blame Father."

Eiji immediately shook his head.

"No… Don't."

"Why not?"

Eiji opened his mouth, and nothing came out. His thoughts searched desperately for an answer. There wasn't one. Fuyuki quietly lowered his gaze.

"...That's what I thought."

…

That night, Eiji sat alone in his room. The walls were lined with illustrations Eiji had once cut from old books given by Hyosei.

The coastlines of Aqmier, the green plains of Ammallia, the scorching deserts of Rupes, the towering peaks of Olteera.

For years, these pictures had been windows. Now they were reminders of a world forever out of reach. A gentle knock broke the silence.

"Come in."

The door creaked open. Fuyuki stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him.

"Sorry about earlier."

He couldn't bring himself to look Eiji in the eye.

"I was frustrated." He swallowed. "I shouldn't have said it."

Eiji smiled softly. Then he opened his arms. Without hesitation, Fuyuki crossed the room and embraced him. Eiji rested a hand on the back of his brother's head.

"It's not your fault."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm just..." He searched for the words. "...not myself right now."

Fuyuki tightened his embrace.

"Then I'll wait." He smiled through watery eyes. "However long it takes."

Eiji closed his eyes.

"Thank you."

The brothers remained there in silence. Sometimes, an embrace could say what words never could.

Eiji glanced at the wristband that Rowan gave him.

He smiled.

“You know what,”

Eiji met his brother’s gaze.

“You don’t need to wait.”

…

That morning, Fuyuki was woken up by Eiji’s loud voice.

“Time to wake up!”

Fuyuki sat down, rubbed his eyes, and squinted at Eiji. Slowly, his vision was getting clearer.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“I don’t know how to read time, but who cares. Let’s go!” Eiji said, pumping his knees.