The walk home with Asia was quiet, the evening air cool and calming after the chaos of the day. She walked beside me, her small travel bag in hand, her eyes wide as she took in the peaceful, normal neighborhood—a stark contrast to the abandoned church and the opulent clubroom.
"Your parents... are they going to be angry?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"No," I said, with more confidence than I felt. "They're good people. They might be surprised, but they won't be angry. Just let me do the talking, okay?"
She nodded nervously, clutching the strap of her bag tighter.
As we approached the house, I could see the warm glow of the lights inside. A familiar, comforting sight that now filled me with a knot of anxiety. I took a deep breath and slid the door open.
"I'm home," I called out.
Miki Hyoudou appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Issei, there you are! You're later than—"
Her words died in her throat as her eyes landed on Asia, who was half-hiding behind me, her head bowed shyly.
My father, Gorou, peered out from the living room, his newspaper lowering.
"Issei... who is this?" my mother asked, her voice a mixture of confusion and gentle curiosity.
"Mom, Dad," I began, stepping fully inside and gently guiding Asia forward. "This is Asia Argento. She... she needs our help."
We moved to the living room, and I could feel the weight of their concerned gazes. Asia sat on the edge of the sofa, looking small and fragile, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
I had rehearsed the story in my head on the walk over, weaving truth with necessary fiction. "Asia is from Italy," I started, my voice low and serious. "She was an orphan, raised in a church. She became a nun, dedicating her life to helping others."
My mother's expression softened immediately, her heart already going out to the girl.
"But something terrible happened," I continued, pouring as much genuine emotion into my words as I could. "Someone... someone in a position of power in the church falsely accused her of something she didn't do. Something that ruined her reputation. She was excommunicated. Cast out with nowhere to go and no one to turn to."
I saw my mother's hand fly to her mouth, her eyes glistening with sympathy. My father's brow was furrowed in a deep frown.
"She came to Japan hoping for a fresh start, but the people who were supposed to help her... they turned out to be bad people. They tried to use her." I didn't need to elaborate; the fear and sadness on Asia's face as she stared at the floor told its own story. "I found her today, lost and scared. She had nowhere to go. No family. No home. I couldn't just leave her."
I looked directly at my parents, letting them see the determination in my eyes. "So I brought her here. I told her she could stay with us. That she'd be safe here."
The room was silent for a long moment. Asia finally looked up, her beautiful green eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I am so sorry to impose," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Issei-san has been so kind. But I understand if I cannot stay. I do not wish to be a burden."
That broke the dam.
"Oh, you poor, sweet child!" Miki exclaimed, rushing over to sit beside Asia and pulling her into a warm, maternal hug. Asia stiffened for a second, shocked by the sudden affection, before melting into the embrace, a quiet sob escaping her.
"Of course you can stay!" Miki said, her voice firm despite its warmth. "No one should be alone like that. You're not a burden. You're a guest in our home."
She looked over at Gorou. "Right, dear?"
My father let out a slow breath, then nodded, a kind, reassuring smile gracing his features. "He's right. You're safe here, Asia-chan. What happened to you wasn't your fault. This can be your home for as long as you need it."
The relief that washed over Asia was so palpable it seemed to lighten the very air in the room. She cried in earnest then, tears of gratitude and relief, while my mother held her, murmuring comforting words.
I watched the scene, a profound sense of rightness settling over me. This was what I was fighting for. This warmth, this compassion, this simple act of providing shelter. The monstrous threats and cosmic powers felt a world away in this quiet, loving living room.
Later, after my mother had enthusiastically prepared a spare room for Asia and was showing her around, my father placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You did a good thing today, son," he said, his voice low and proud. "Bringing her here. It took courage."
I just nodded, the weight of his praise and the reality of the situation settling on me. I had brought a excommunicated nun with a target on her back into my home. But seeing the genuine happiness on my mother's face and the tentative hope in Asia's eyes, I knew I would make the same choice a thousand times over.
Asia had a home now. And I had one more very good reason to get stronger. To protect this new, fragile piece of my world.