Blood was running down her leg.

Hot, thick, marking the concrete with a silent red trail. The sound of her own heart beating loudly in her ears mixed with the muffled noises of the collapsing city. Everything around her seemed to spin slightly—her body struggled not to give in to exhaustion. Each step was a burden, a punishment. But even with the pain tearing at her muscles and the heat of her blood making her skin slippery, she didn't stop. Her tired eyes remained fixed on Isamu's silhouette, ahead, near the car. And it was there, exactly there, that he stopped. When Isamu turned and saw her—her body hunched over, her shoulders shaking, and her leg dripping blood like a bell tolling for the end—an immediate lump formed in his throat. He ran toward her, without hesitation, as if every second between them could be their last. She tried to smile, but even that was not possible. He said nothing. He tore his own dress shirt with his teeth and trembling fingers, tearing off one of the sleeves and kneeling in front of her. Her eyes met his—they were dark, almost desperate, but full of tenderness. With firm precision, he tied the sleeve around the wound, tightly stopping the bleeding, but the gesture was not just practical. It was an apology, it was a silent vow: "I will protect you."

The car finally started. Engine roaring, tires sinking into pieces of the world that shattered around them. The road was like a battlefield forgotten by ancient gods, and for miles they drove without saying a word. Only the sound of the wind coming through the broken windows and the heavy breathing of two survivors who had already lost so much. But the destination had a name—and it was the temple. An ancient place, abandoned and mysteriously preserved, as if time had paused around it. Inside, the past returned with all its violence. Senzai was there. Or what was left of him.

Two weeks later, they sat together in Isamu's apartment. She threw herself on the couch with the ease of someone who had survived the apocalypse. Isamu just watched her. He took off his coat, left it in a corner, and walked over to her. He leaned over her body, resting his hands on either side of her head. Their eyes met. There were no words. Only the certainty that, even if the world ended again, as long as they were together, they would survive.