A Change in Yano
The aftermath of Bleaf's funeral weighed heavily on the entire team, but while others found solace in shared grief, Yano grew more distant. She was always composed, the one who kept things steady when emotions ran high, but now—now she was withdrawing.
At first, it was subtle. She spoke less during strategy meetings. She spent more time alone in the medical wing, tending to wounds that didn't need tending. When the others gathered for meals, she sat in the farthest corner, barely touching her food. She wasn't cold—just absent, lost in thoughts that she didn't share.
Even in battle simulations, she seemed distracted. Kazuki watched her during a training session and noticed how her reactions were just a fraction slower, her concentration breaking at odd moments. It wasn't like her. Yano was always precise, always sharp. Now, she looked like someone carrying the weight of a ghost on her back.
It was Nami who first noticed.
"You've been acting strange," Nami said one evening, finding Yano alone in the quiet hallway. "You barely talk anymore."
Yano didn't look up from the cloth she was wringing between her fingers. "I'm fine."
"That's a lie."
Yano sighed, pressing the cloth against her forehead as if it could wipe away more than just sweat. "I just need time."
Nami didn't push, but she didn't leave either. She stood next to Yano, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Eventually, she said, "We're all hurting, Yano. But you… you're carrying something else. Something from before."
Yano's shoulders tensed, but she said nothing.
That was the first sign.
The Trigger
Two nights later, Leon and Kazuki dragged a wounded enemy soldier into the base. He was barely conscious, his uniform tattered and stained with blood, but there was something about him that immediately put Yano on edge.
As soon as she laid eyes on him, she froze. Her breath hitched. Her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides.
Kazuki noticed the shift in her posture. "Yano?"
She didn't respond. Her gaze was locked on the soldier's face. Even as Leon secured him to a chair and Emjay began questioning him, Yano stood still, unmoving, barely breathing.
Emjay turned to her. "You recognize him."
Silence. Then, Yano muttered, almost too quietly to hear, "He's not supposed to be alive."
Everyone looked at her. The soldier let out a weak chuckle. "I had a feeling you'd be here, Yano."
The team exchanged glances. Kai stepped forward. "Okay, what the hell is going on?"
But Yano didn't answer. She turned on her heel and walked out.
A Late-Night Visit
That night, Yano didn't sleep. She paced in her quarters, her heart pounding. She could still hear his voice—mocking, taunting. A voice from a past she had tried so hard to bury.
She shouldn't go to him.
She knew she shouldn't.
But she found herself standing outside the medical wing anyway, her hands gripping the doorframe.
Inside, the enemy soldier sat up in bed, his injuries treated, but his face still worn from battle. When he saw her, he smirked. "I was wondering when you'd come."
Yano shut the door behind her and stepped closer. "I should have killed you back then."
His smirk widened. "But you didn't. And now here we are."
She clenched her fists. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same." He leaned back against the bed. "Still playing doctor, I see. Always so eager to fix people, even when they don't deserve it."
Yano took a slow, steady breath. "You don't get to talk about what I deserve."
He chuckled. "You think you've escaped your past? That these people around you know who you really are?"
Her pulse pounded in her ears. "I'm not that person anymore."
He tilted his head. "Aren't you?"
Silence stretched between them. Then he said something that sent ice through her veins:
"Did you ever tell them what you did?"
Yano's breath caught in her throat. The words slammed into her like a bullet.
Memories Resurfacing
Long-buried memories clawed their way to the surface. Blood on her hands. A mission gone wrong. Betrayal. A choice she had made—one that had haunted her every day since.
She had thought it was over. Thought that running, fighting for something new, would erase it. But here he was, dragging her back into the past.
Yano's hands trembled. "Shut up."
The soldier grinned. "Oh, but Yano, they don't know, do they? They don't know what you did to survive. They don't know the price you paid."
She pressed a hand to her temple, a dull ache forming in her skull. "I don't owe you an explanation."
"You don't owe me one," he agreed. "But do you think your friends will still look at you the same way when they find out?"
Yano inhaled sharply. "I don't care what they think."
He laughed. "You're a terrible liar."
A Confrontation
Kazuki was waiting outside the medical wing when Yano emerged. The moment he saw her face, he knew something was wrong.
"Yano—"
"I don't want to talk."
"That's too bad." Kazuki stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "Because I saw your face in there. You know him. And it's not just from some random battle."
Yano didn't meet his gaze. "Let it go, Kazuki."
"No." His voice was firm. "Not this time."
For a moment, she considered pushing past him, walking away like she always did. But something in Kazuki's eyes stopped her. He wasn't just asking as a teammate—he was asking as a friend.
"I know when someone's hiding something," Kazuki said, his voice softer now. "You don't have to carry this alone, Yano."
A long silence stretched between them before Yano exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Fine. I'll tell you everything."
Kazuki nodded. "Good. Because I think it's about time we know who Yano really is."
The chapter ended with the two of them walking away, Yano's past finally about to be revealed.