Chapter 16 — Blessing
Meanwhile—
Back at home, Nico sat quietly, her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of her chair.
No matter how tightly she wrapped herself in the blanket, the chill wouldn't leave her body.
It wasn't the cold of the air.
It was something deeper—
a cold that came from within, seeping into her bones, freezing her breath.
Her skin had gone pale; her lips trembled faintly.
Her wide eyes reflected the flickering lamplight, filled with confusion… and fear.
She didn't understand why she felt this way.
Why her heart pounded as if she were still running from something unseen.
Why the very thought of that distant chill made her chest tighten, her throat ache.
And then—
Images began to flicker in her mind.
Blurry at first, then sharp enough to hurt.
A small girl.
Dark hair brushing her shoulders.
Running through smoke and fire, tears streaming down her face.
Behind her—voices shouting, boots thundering, the roar of something collapsing.
Was she… running away?
Or being chased?
Why was she running?
Why were they after her?
The questions echoed endlessly in her mind, unanswered.
Each flash of memory made her heart seize with pain—
and yet, a strange familiarity tugged at her chest, whispering that these weren't just dreams.
They were memories.
Her memories.
Fragments of a past she had long forgotten—
a past filled with fire, fear, and loss.
And though she tried to push them away,
the little girl's terrified face wouldn't disappear.
Her voice—small, desperate—echoed faintly in Nico's mind.
"Don't let them find me… please…"
Nico's eyes widened.
Her breathing quickened.
The room around her seemed to blur, swallowed by that haunting memory—
until all she could feel was that same cold, merciless fear.
Inside her mind, a voice kept whispering, again and again—
Run. Run now. That terrifying man is coming again.
The voice made her heart pound and her breath quicken.
That same suffocating coldness from before crept up her spine, making her entire body shiver.
But where could she run to?
And what about Eiger?
Night had already fallen.
He should've been home by now. Why hadn't he come back yet?
Anxiety, fear, and dread tangled together in her chest, refusing to let her rest.
Even when she tried to prepare dinner, her hands wouldn't stay steady.
The knife nearly slipped more than once—each time narrowly missing her fingers.
Marin, the village chief, had said it was just a winter cold front, nothing more.
But no matter how she tried to convince herself, her heart couldn't believe it.
Something inside her whispered that if she stayed here—if she didn't do something—Eiger might never come home.
Or worse—she might bring disaster upon him.
Upon everyone.
That terrifying thought jolted through her mind just as the knife slipped—
"Tch—!"
This time, she wasn't fast enough.
The blade cut into her slender hand.
A bead of blood welled up, but Nico didn't even flinch.
She just stared blankly ahead, murmuring softly—
"Eiger…"
And then—
Creak.
The door opened.
"I'm back," came that familiar, warm voice.
"I brought the firewood too. Think this'll be enough? If not, I'll head out again tomorrow."
For a heartbeat, she couldn't move.
Then, suddenly, she spun around.
There he was—broad-shouldered, carrying a load of firewood taller than himself, his axe strapped to his back.
The sight of him—alive, solid, standing there—broke something inside her.
All her fear, her trembling, her doubts—gone.
She just stood there, staring at him in disbelief… and then the tears came.
"What's wrong?" Eiger asked, setting down the firewood and his axe.
He frowned when he noticed her pale face—and the thin line of red across her hand.
"You cut yourself?"
Before he could move closer, Nico threw herself at him—
burying herself in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him as if afraid he'd disappear again.
The sudden warmth, the soft press of her body—it made Eiger's heartbeat stutter.
And though his first instinct was to make a joke, he found himself just standing there, stunned…
and maybe a little embarrassed.
Inwardly, he cursed a certain lazy bastard for not following the script.
Before he could say a word, Nico lifted her face.
Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, her lips curved into a trembling smile.
"You're back," she whispered, her voice filled with relief.
"My love… you're home."
Eiger froze—then a slow, genuine smile spread across his face.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm home."
"Why so late?" she asked, her tone half-scolding, half-shaky.
"I was worried sick."
"Ah, on the way back I ran into a bear blocking the path," Eiger said awkwardly, rubbing his cheek.
"So… I had to knock some sense into it. Took a little longer than I thought."
"...A bear?" Nico blinked—and finally noticed the state of his face.
It wasn't just tired.
It was swollen. One side bruised blue, the other pink. His jaw looked slightly lopsided.
Her eyes widened, and she reached up gently to touch his cheek.
"Ah—!" Eiger hissed as the pain flared.
"Love… what happened to you?"
"The bear got a few good hits in," he muttered, forcing a grin. "No big deal. I'll be fine after a little sunlight.
Don't worry—I won."
Seeing the concern in her face, he quickly tried to change the subject.
"Anyway, what about dinner? I'm starving. And your hand—did you disinfect that cut? You must've been tired.
Tell you what, I'll cook tonight—"
He started moving toward the kitchen, but Nico didn't let go.
Her arms only tightened around him.
"...?"
Before he could ask, she murmured softly into his chest, her voice trembling.
"Just… wait a little. Please."
Her fingers clutched his shirt.
"Just hold me, my love."
Eiger blinked.
Then quietly, he wrapped his arms around her again—this time with no hesitation.
He could feel her trembling ease bit by bit beneath his hands.
So he said nothing. He just held her, patting her back gently, steady and warm.
Did she remember something?
Or maybe… she didn't need to.
Either way, he stayed like that, comforting her in silence.
Within that embrace, the warmth spread.
Nico's trembling slowly stilled.
The fear and confusion faded, replaced by a quiet calm.
Her eyes fluttered shut, her voice no louder than a whisper.
"It's so warm…"
Like sunlight.
That was what it felt like—his warmth, his heartbeat.
It melted away her fear, her doubts, the whispers in her mind.
For the first time, she understood what "home" truly meant.
Two people, in each other's arms.
Quiet. Safe. Whole.
They stayed that way for a long while—unaware that, outside, a figure watched from afar.
Perched casually on a thick branch, hands behind his head, Kuzan gazed lazily toward the small cottage.
"Still went easy on him, huh…" he murmured. "But does he really know… or is he just pretending not to?"
His mind drifted back to their fight earlier that day, and he couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"What a waste," he sighed. "Wonder where the old 315th commander ended up."
His gaze lingered on the distant house, eyes half-lidded but sharp with thought.
"So what now, kid?
Stay here? Live quietly?
Or go chasing history again?"
"Which path will you take this time?"
His expression turned complicated for a moment… then the lazy grin returned.
Stretching, he hopped down from the branch and landed lightly on the snow-covered ground.
"Well… doesn't look like my business anymore," he said, yawning. "Might as well head back to HQ.
Got expense reports piling up anyway."
As he started walking toward the coast, he suddenly paused.
He touched his cheek—where Eiger's axe had grazed him earlier—
and squinted up at the sky.
A snowflake landed on his hand.
"...Snow?"
He blinked, tilting his head.
"Winter's coming early to the Sibia Isles, huh?"
Then, as realization dawned, his lips twitched.
"Oh… wait. That might've been my fault."
He shrugged, hands back in his pockets, and continued strolling toward the sea.
Halfway down the path, he looked back one last time at the small wooden house—its chimney faintly smoking against the falling snow.
"Hope you find a place that's truly yours," he murmured, his voice almost lost to the wind.
"Live well, kid."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the white horizon.
And as the snow fell heavier,
the Sibia River Islands quietly entered their first true winter.