Chapter Text
They had been walking for hours, boots crunching through the dry, brittle earth of what used to be a thriving town. Buildings stood hollow, like ghosts watching their quiet passing. The sun was sinking, casting long shadows behind them as ash danced gently in the air.
led the way, a rusted knife at her belt and a small pack slung over her shoulder. She looked strong because she had to. Because Shin needed her to be.
Behind her, Shin stumbled slightly. “Can we rest?” she asked, her voice thin, almost breaking.
Sabine turned, saw the exhaustion written in every line of Shin’s face. She nodded and guided them toward the remnants of a collapsed church. It still had one wall standing, enough to break the wind.
As they sat, Shin shivered and pulled her knees to her chest. “I don’t think I can do this much longer,” she whispered. “It’s all just… too much.”
Sabine didn’t respond right away. She stared at the horizon, at the place where the sun still dared to set in golds and reds, even after everything the world had lost.
“I used to think that too,” she finally said. “Back when I lost my family. Back when I buried them with bare hands because the ground was too hard and I didn’t want the wild dogs to get to them. Back when I didn’t think hope was real anymore.”
Shin looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. “You never said any of that before.”
Sabine smiled faintly. “I didn’t want you to carry it.”
“But why?” Shin asked. “You shouldn't have gone through that alone.”
Sabine turned to her, a flicker of softness breaking through the strength she always wore like armor. “Because you still see the world like it can be good again. You still laugh. You still dream.”
She gently reached out, squeezing Shin’s hand.
“I carry it so you wouldn’t have to.”
Shin’s eyes filled with tears, not of sadness, but something else something like light cracking through the darkness.
And for the first time in days, they both sat in silence, not out of fear, but peace