With a hiss and a clank, the door slid open, revealing a sprawling space that hit Ren like a punch of unexpected warmth. It looked… lived in. A bizarre mash-up of spaceship tech and college dorm chaos—scuffed old couches sagging under the weight of blankets and jackets, neon lights buzzing along the ceiling, a battered jukebox crooning soft oldies in the corner. Random gear, weapons, and empty takeout boxes were scattered around like no one gave a damn.
Andre strolled in like he owned the place (and, Ren figured, he probably did), waving a hand lazily over his head.
"Alright, guys, the interrogation's over. He's one of us now—least for a while."
He dropped onto a couch with a heavy whump, leaning back and pulling out a fat cigar like it was the most natural thing in the world. He sparked it with a flick, took a long drag, and let the smoke curl out slow. "Shiiiit," he muttered, eyes closing, "that's the good stuff."
Ren lingered awkwardly at the threshold, still reeling, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes darting around at the room full of strangers… until someone moved.
A figure stood from one of the couches across the room—a girl. No… the girl.
Ren's breath hitched.
She stepped into the light, tall and slim, dark hair falling around her shoulders in soft waves. Her eyes locked onto his, warm and bright even in the dim lighting. And just like that, Ren knew—knew without a doubt—it was her. The mysterious girl who'd saved his life when his world shattered… not once, but twice.
Her face softened as she crossed toward him, and her voice trembled just a little when she spoke.
"Ren… thank god. You're okay." Her eyes shimmered, her lips pressed tight like she was holding something back. "I was so scared after what happened in the fight. The damage you took…" she shook her head, blinking hard. "I—I didn't know if you were gonna make it."
Ren stared, mouth opening and closing before he found words.
"You're… it's you." His throat tightened, emotion rising sharp and fast. "You're the one who… saved me. Twice."
She smiled, a little sad, a little relieved. "Celia," she said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "And yeah… I guess I kinda have a habit of pulling your ass outta the fire."
Ren swallowed hard.
"Thank you. Really. For… everything. I don't even know what to say."
"You don't gotta," Celia replied softly, eyes crinkling with something like pride. "You held your own out there. Took Kaito down when… I couldn't. You saved me, too, Ren. Don't sell yourself short."
For a beat, they just stood there, eyes locked, an unspoken weight settling between them.
Then—
"Aww hell," Andre's voice cut through, rich with laughter and smoke, "would ya look at that. Y'all might as well get hitched already!" He cackled, slapping his knee, his cigar bobbing between his teeth.
Celia's face snapped red, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits. "H-Hey!" she barked, crossing her arms and puffing out her cheeks. "Wh-what the hell are you talkin' about, old man?! As if—don't go makin' up crap like that!" She stamped a foot, her voice rising as she glared daggers at Andre, though her eyes flickered, betraying just a hint of fluster.
Ren, caught in the middle, could only muster an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck.
Andre just grinned wider, clearly enjoying every second of their discomfort. "Mmhmm. That's what they all say."
With a lazy stretch, he jabbed a thumb toward the other end of the room, where a familiar figure sat, polished and still like a statue.
"Anyway," Andre said, puffing out a cloud of smoke, he jerked his thumb toward the tall woman who'd been sitting silent through it all, her long silver-dyed locs draped elegantly over one shoulder. "That's Jingli Yue. Ain't no need for intros 'cause you two already got real familiar back in the tank room."
Ren stiffened instinctively, eyes flicking to her. The same woman who'd played her eerie instrument and dug into his head like it was nothing. She was seated elegantly in a high-backed armchair now, the very picture of grace under pressure.
Andre leaned back with a lazy smirk, tapping ash into a tray. "Classy, cold, and way too damn calm. Don't let that royal-ass attitude fool ya—she's sharper than a vibroblade and twice as deadly. If you're smart, you'll keep your nose real clean around her."
Yue, seated like she owned the damn place, set down her delicate porcelain teacup with the kind of grace that made everything look expensive. Her sharp gray eyes locked on Ren, cool and precise, studying him like a bug under glass.
"I prefer the term 'practical,'" she said smoothly, her voice so calm it was eerie. "Someone has to maintain decorum around here."
Andre chuckled, cigar bouncing as he jabbed at her with a grin. "Yeah, yeah. 'Decorum.' Whatever helps ya sleep at night, princess."
Yue's lips twitched into the faintest ghost of a smile—cool, subtle, but definitely there. "It's not my sleep I'm worried about," she said, setting her teacup down with a quiet clink. Her eyes didn't waver. "It's the chaos you tend to attract."
Andre barked out a laugh, shaking his head, and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Touché,"
Ren stood stiffly, eyes flicking between them all, his nerves on high alert but his curiosity gnawing harder now. He could already feel it—this crew was something else. Weird, unpredictable, messy as hell.
Suddenly the door slid open with a sharp hiss, and a stubby, koala-like figure stomped in, his fur perpetually mussed and his glowing red eyes narrowing as they locked onto Andre.
"You've got to be shitting me!" Bonk growled, his voice like grinding gears, pointing a clawed metal finger at Andre. "Smoking again? I just spent two goddamn hours running maintenance on the air filters, and here you are, turning this place into a fucking chimney!"
Andre turned his head slow, blowin' a lazy cloud of smoke in Bonk's direction. He smirked, the cigar danglin' casual-like from his fingers. "Mornin' to you too, Bonk. I see you're real pleasant like always."
Bonk's synthetic fur bristled as he stomped closer, his small but sturdy frame clanking with each step. "Pleasant? You're a walking disaster, Andre. I swear, every time I fix something, you break it with that shitty smoking habit of yours. One day that cigar's gonna kill you and I'll watch with popcorn."
Andre raised an eyebrow, his smirk widenin'. "Popcorn, huh? Big words from a walkin' Roomba with a bad attitude. Don't act like you wouldn't miss me, Bonk. Go on, admit it—you'd be cryin' oil tears if I wasn't around."
Bonk's glowing eyes narrowed to slits. "Miss you? I'd celebrate, you oversized meathead. The second you die, I'm throwing the biggest party this ship's ever seen."
"Wait," Ren blurted, staring wide-eyed at the scene unfolding before him. "Is that a… talking koala?"
Bonk froze mid-step, his glowing red eyes narrowing dangerously as his grip tightened on the oversized hammer resting on his shoulder. Slowly, he turned to face Ren. "I am NOT a fucking koala!" he barked, his fur bristling.
Before Ren could even react, Bonk launched himself forward with surprising speed, the hammer swinging down toward his head. Ren flinched instinctively, throwing his arms up, but the hammer stopped an inch from his face with a loud bonk.
"Whoa, whoa!" Andre called out, laughter booming through the room as the end of his still-burning cigar glowed ominously close to Bonk's face. "Take it easy, Bonk. The kid's new. No need to break him before he's even started."
Bonk's glowing eyes flared, and his metallic voice erupted into a furious shout. "You put that fucking cigar down, RIGHT NOW!"
Celia stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she stifled a laugh behind her hand. "He's Bonk," she said, grinning at Ren. "Our grumpy pilot. Oh, and a part-time plushie mascot. He really adds charm to the place."
Bonk whirled on her instantly, his glowing eyes narrowing. "What did you just call me?!"
Before Celia could retreat, Bonk leaped forward and bonked her on the head with a satisfying metallic thud. Celia staggered back, clutching her head dramatically, her cheeks puffed out in an exaggerated pout. "Ow! I was just trying to help!" she whined, crossing her arms.
Ren couldn't help but crack a small smile at the absurdity of it all. "Okay. Got it. Bonk. Not a koala. Definitely not messing with him again."
Bonk didn't bother with words. His glowing red eyes narrowed into a glare, first at Ren and then locking onto Andre. With a sharp thunk, he swung his oversized hammer over his shoulder, the message clear. He planted himself like an immovable statue, radiating silent menace, his gaze unwavering as it bore into Andre.
Andre sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with faint annoyance. "Fine, fine," he muttered, plucking the cigar from his mouth and stubbing it out in the ashtray. "Happy now?"
Bonk didn't move, his glowing eyes still fixed on Andre, daring him to push his luck.
Andre rolled his eyes and leaned back. "Anyway," he drawled, stretching his arms out along the top of the couch, "kid, make yourself at home. Ain't no use standin' there like a deer in headlights. This crew? We might be a damn mess, but we look out for our own."
Ren swallowed hard, still getting his footing, when Celia suddenly clapped her hands together with a bright grin. "I've got an idea!" she chirped, practically bouncing in place. "Since he's the newbie, we should throw him a welcome party! Right now! Might help lighten the mood a bit."
Andre's brow arched, amused as ever. "A party? At dawn? Girl, you don't quit, I'll give ya that."
Ren's eyes widened, and he waved his hands quickly, shaking his head. "Uh, no, no, that's… that's not necessary. I really should head home. I've already been out way too late."
Andre studied him for a second, tapping a finger against his chin, then gave a slow, understanding nod. "Fair enough, kid. It's mornin' already, and you had one hell of a night." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Go on home. Rest up, gather your thoughts. Be back tomorrow—we'll start your trainin' then."
He jerked his thumb toward the cockpit without looking. "Alright, Bonk. Land this thing somewhere safe in Okutama."
Bonk let out a long, exaggerated sigh, shaking his head as he stomped toward the controls. "Always with the damn orders," he grumbled, hands moving deftly over the console. The ship hummed, engines adjusting as it began its slow, smooth descent.
Outside, the first golden rays of sunlight stretched across the quiet forests and rugged mountains of Okutama, casting long, peaceful shadows. The ramp hissed open with a pressurized release, letting in the crisp morning air thick with the scent of dew-soaked grass.
Bonk leaned against the ramp's edge, his massive hammer slung lazily over his shoulder. He gave Ren a casual once-over and smirked. "Alright, kid. Off you go. Don't trip on the way down."
Ren stepped forward hesitantly, pausing at the ramp's edge. He glanced back once, eyes sweeping over the mismatched crew, the cramped, wild room… and the sheer fact that he'd been on a spaceship this whole damn time.
His breath caught as the ramp hissed shut behind him, sealing with a sharp thunk. He took a few shaky steps away, turning just in time to watch the ship rise, shimmering slightly—then vanish completely as the invisibility tech kicked in, leaving nothing but the peaceful morning sky.
"…Wow," Ren breathed, staring up at the empty sky, the wind tugging gently at his clothes.
The walk home was quiet, the early morning sun casting soft, golden rays across the streets. As Ren reached his door, the events of the last night played on a loop in his mind—Kiyomi's scornful words, his frantic escape, the gut-wrenching fear of facing a monster, and the sheer chaos of meeting Andre and the others.
When he finally reached his house, he stopped just short of the threshold. His hand hovered over the sliding door, the weight of everything catching up to him. For a moment, he thought about running again, just leaving all of it behind. But before he could gather the nerve to push the door open, it slid open on its own.
Standing in the doorway was Yūjirō, his eyes widening in shock. Yūjirō's mouth parted slightly, "Ren?" His voice was low, roughened by both surprise and something deeper—relief. "Where were you?" Yūjirō's tone wasn't angry, but it carried a weight that made Ren's chest tighten further.
"I…" Ren's voice cracked. He dropped his gaze, his hand falling limply to his side. "I was… I just…" He trailed off, the words dissolving on his tongue. He didn't look Yūjirō in the eye.
Before he could even attempt to explain himself, Yūjirō moved. In one swift motion, he reached out and pulled Ren into a tight embrace.
Ren stiffened, his breath hitching as his sensei's arms wrapped around him. He hadn't been prepared for this—the sudden warmth, the unyielding grip, the way Yūjirō held him like he was something precious.
"Don't…" Yūjirō's voice was thick, trembling with a vulnerability Ren had never heard from him before. "Don't ever leave like that again." His arms tightened briefly before loosening just enough for Ren to breathe. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? I thought… I thought something had happened to you."
Ren stood frozen in his sensei's arms, the words sinking in. For a man who rarely showed emotion, Yūjirō's reaction was overwhelming. A lump formed in Ren's throat, and he found himself whispering, "I'm sorry, sensei," he muttered, his voice shaky. "I didn't mean to… cause trouble."
Yūjirō pulled back slightly, his hands resting firmly on Ren's shoulders. His gaze softened as he studied Ren's face, seeing the pain that Ren couldn't fully hide. He took a steadying breath. "Just promise me you won't leave like that again."
Ren looked away, feeling a wave of shame and something else he couldn't quite name. "I… I promise."
Yūjirō's intense stare softened, and he exhaled slowly, his hands squeezing Ren's shoulders for a moment before falling away. "Kiyomi… she's harsh sometimes, I know. But she cares about you, Ren. She likes you more than she'd admit, though she went too far. I told her so."
His voice softened, a gentle yet unwavering steadiness in his words. "Ren, you're like the son we never had. And as long as we're here, you'll always have a place. You'll always have someone who cares."
Ren's breath caught in his throat. The words landed with the force of a blow, crumbling the walls he'd painstakingly built to keep himself detached, to protect himself from pain. His vision blurred as his emotions surged—guilt, relief, grief, and a fragile glimmer of hope.
"Thank you, sensei," Ren whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
Yūjirō caught the words, and without another thought, Ren leaned into him, hugging him tightly. He felt Yūjirō's steady hand on his back, grounding him in a way that nothing else had in a long time. For the first time, Ren felt like maybe he didn't have to shoulder everything alone.
After a long moment, Yūjirō pulled back slightly, his tone soft but firm. "Come on, Ren. Get inside and rest."
Ren nodded, his tired body and mind too spent to argue. "Okay," he said quietly, following Yūjirō back into the house.
Inside, the warmth of the space enveloped him, a gentle contrast to the chill that had settled in his chest. Ren paused in the hallway, watching as Yūjirō walked ahead. Yūjirō reached for his phone, stepping into the kitchen with a purposeful air.
The faint murmur of his voice drifted through the house as Ren made his way to his room. The sound was calm, steady, but Ren didn't try to make out the words. Instead, he sat on the futon, letting the quiet stillness of the space envelop him. His tense shoulders slowly began to loosen as the day's weight eased. Gradually, his breathing steadied, and his eyes grew heavy.