I woke up staring at a ceiling I knew well.

  That alone grounded me.

  The same faint crack near the corner. The same soft glow from the mana lamp Akari never turned off at night. The quiet hum of a house that had seen me collapse more times than I cared to admit.

  My body hurt.

  Not sharply. Not dangerously. Just the deep, heavy ache that followed pushing myself too far and surviving anyway.

  I shifted slightly.

  “Don’t move.”

  Her voice came instantly.

  I turned my head. Akari was lying beside me, her head resting on my left arm, fingers curled into my sleeve like she was afraid I’d disappear if she let go. She looked exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair slightly messy. Awake far longer than she should have been.

  “…You’re heavy,” I muttered.

  She pinched my side without hesitation.

  “Good,” she said flatly. “You’re awake and annoying. That means you’re still you.”

  I sighed. “So I passed?”

  She sat up slowly, eyes sharp as they scanned my face. “We’ll see.”

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  “…That’s comforting.”

  “It’s normal procedure,” she said firmly. “After DOOM.”

  That made me pause.

  “…Normal,” I repeated.

  “Yes,” she said. “Now answer.”

  Here it came.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Miro Kuro,” I answered without thinking.

  Her shoulders loosened, just a little.

  “Good,” she murmured. “Where are we?”

  “At your place. Spare room. You still haven’t fixed the lamp.”

  She nodded.

  “And me?” she asked quietly. “Who am I?”

  I glanced at her. “The reason I’m still alive.”

  She huffed, half annoyed, half relieved. “That’s not wrong.”

  She leaned back against the headboard, rubbing her eyes. “You were bleeding. A lot. You were unconscious. I couldn’t wake you up.”

  I winced. “Yeah… that sounds about right.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she said immediately.

  “I wasn’t,” I replied. “Just acknowledging reality.”

  She crossed her arms, studying me. “Your memory’s intact. Identity’s stable. No gaps.”

  “High praise.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  She hesitated, then added, “Your signal vanished.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You really want to pretend you didn’t put something on me?”

  She clicked her tongue. “It’s small. Temporary.”

  “Sure it is.”

  She looked away. “I thought I lost you.”

  I softened slightly. “Signals don’t behave well sometimes. You know that.”

  She didn’t push further.

  Silence settled between us.

  Then she spoke again, quieter. “The arena was the first time I really saw it.”

  I stared at the ceiling. “Yeah.”

  “Before that, you just muttered about it,” she continued. “You acted strange. Sometimes you didn’t even seem fully present.”

  “That still happens.”

  “Not like before,” she said. “That time… it was different.”

  I didn’t respond.

  She lay back down, resting her head against my arm again, grip returning instinctively. “You passed,” she said after a moment. “This time.”

  I closed my eyes briefly, letting the exhaustion sink in. The room was familiar. Safe, at least on the surface.

  But one thought refused to fade.

  Someone had attacked me.

  Not tested me. Not warned me.

  They had tried to kill me.

  As I lay there, listening to Akari’s breathing steady beside me, that realization sharpened into resolve.

  For now… I needed to know why.