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... ened his eyes.

Ceiling. Grey. Unfamiliar for a moment—then familiar in the way things are when you’ve been gone long enough to forget the shape of home.

He lay still, letting his body remember where it was. No river. No blood. No sword through his chest. Just a bed. A room. Morning light through a window.

He sat up slowly.

His chest didn’t hurt. His ribs were whole. He touched the place where Baihe’s blade had punched through—nothing. Just skin, just muscle, just ...

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“I’m gonna live with Irene for the rest of my life.”

“….. What?”

“I said, I won’t get married and I’ll spend the rest of my life with Irene!”

I wish I heard it wrong. Regrettably, I couldn’t stop Claudia.

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“Shit. What kind of situation is this?”