Chapter Text
The rain began without warning.
One moment the sky beyond the window was a dull, patient black. The next, droplets streaked down the glass, blurring the city lights into soft, trembling lines. The sound followed soon after, gentle at first, then steady, filling the room with a muted rhythm that dulled the sharp edges of thought.
Alicia sat cross-legged on the bed, back against the wall, notebook closed beside her. The Yosing rested on her desk, next to all the books. Everything was where it should be.
For once, there was nothing to do.
She watched the rain for a long moment before speaking.
“It never rains like this anymore...” she said.
The voice was hers, but the thought behind it was shared.
Ali responded without hesitation, letting the words pass through naturally. “Yeah... Always rainstorms here and there.”
Alicia hummed quietly. “I would've loved to just chill in the rain.”
So did he.
The memory surfaced easily. Wet streets reflecting neon lights. The smell of rain on concrete.
Missions that ended soaked and exhausted, laughter slipping out despite everything.
“…Do you remember the skylines?” Ali asked, this time choosing to speak through her voice again. Slower cadence. Softer tone.
Alicia nodded. “They looked bigger back then.”
“Or maybe we were smaller.”
She smiled faintly at that. “How does that make sense?”
The rain intensified, tapping harder against the window. The room felt warmer by contrast, insulated from the outside world. Alicia leaned her head back, eyes half-lidded.
“Do you miss them?” she asked. “The cadets? Your uncle? Comot?”
Ali did not answer immediately.
Images flickered.
Faces.
Voices.
Friends who had not yet been tested by loss.
Enemies who had once felt invincible, before time and experience stripped them down to patterns and flaws.
“Yeah...” he said finally. “...but not in the way I thought I would.”
Alicia turned her head slightly, as if she could look at him, even though there was nowhere to look.
“How so?”
“I miss who we were,” he replied. “Not just them... Us. Before everything went to crap.”
She understood.
Before guilt had weight.
Before responsibility became instinct.
Before surviving stopped feeling like a victory and started feeling like an obligation.
She drew her knees closer to her chest.
“I was... So different back then.” She spoke. “Inexperienced, rebellious, always trying to prove my best.”
“Well, you did prove it.” Ali responded. “People were just too blind to notice.”
Alicia did not argue.
The rain softened again, settling into a steady drizzle. Outside, the city lights shimmered, distorted but beautiful.
“Do you remember them?” she asked. “Those thugs, Numeros, all of them?”
Ali almost laughed. The sound came out soft, breathy. “Mostly. Not that they're really worth remembering in the first place...”
“The way they talked,” Alicia continued. “Like they knew something we didn't.”
“They usually did...” he said. “...or thought they did.”
She glanced at her reflection in the darkened window. Still the younger child, unscarred by missions and loss.
“Do you think we were... like... better... back then?” she asked.
The question lingered.
Ali answered carefully. “Not exactly... Mostly just different. We were brave because we didn't know the cost yet.”
“We were brave because we choose to be”
Alicia closed her eyes.
Thunder rolled in the distance, low and restrained, as if the sky itself were holding back.
She felt the thought before it fully formed. The quiet certainty that this calm was temporary.
That the world beyond the rain was already shifting, aligning itself toward familiar disasters.
But for now, there was only this room.
Only the sound of rain.
Only memory.
“...If we decide to change things,” Alicia said slowly, “do you think everything will stay be the same?”
Ali did not need to think long.
“Of course not.” he said. “...but that does not mean they'll end up worse... I hope...”
She breathed out, letting the tension ease from her shoulders.
“Good,” she murmured. “I don't want to lose them again.”
“Me neither.”
The rain began to fade, droplets thinning until they became nothing more than faint streaks on the glass. The sky lightened, clouds pulling apart just enough to let the city breathe.
Alicia reached over and turned off the lamp beside her bed. The room dimmed, shadows stretching comfortably.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
They did not need to.
The past rested where it belonged, not as a wound, but as a map. And for the first time since waking in this borrowed time, Alicia felt ready to follow it.
Whatever storm came next, it would not catch them unprepared.
Not this time.