Time was running away. Kanesaki dashed with what strength was left, his legs threatening to snap like twigs.
His eyesight grew blurry, but he could still see his objective ahead - a large, crashed fighter jet, its nose buried deep in the ground, its hull smoking and blackened. Around it, bodies littered the ruin - rebels and friendlies alike, their final moments frozen in the fire-scorched debris.
He halted beside the wreck, scanning frantically.
Ripping aside a shattered door panel and heaving a chunk of charred rubble, Kanesaki stumbled back, breath catching in his throat.
There she was.
Hirabayashi.
Unconscious. Her uniform in tatters, burns streaking across her right side, and blood oozing from a deep wound just above her brow. Her hair, once tied back in a sharp bun, hung loose and matted with ash and blood.
Kanesaki dropped to his knees beside her, leaning in close, ignoring the stinging heat radiating from the wreck. He pressed an ear to her lips.
A breath.
Faint. But there.
He exhaled hard, the tension in his shoulders loosening only for a moment.
'Still with me… Good.'
Grunting, he slid an arm beneath her shoulders, the other beneath her knees, lifting her slowly, carefully. Flames crackled inches away as metal groaned dangerously above them.
The sound of engines cut sharply through the chaos - the evac dropship. It was powering up, engines whining louder, beginning to rise through the smoke.
Kanesaki turned, saw the open ramp just ahead - already closing.
'Shit!'
He broke into a sprint, cradling Hirabayashi tight against him. His knees screamed in protest, each step a burst of agony. The ramp was rising. Too fast. He wouldn't make it in time - not on foot.
His eyes darted up - the wing of the crashed fighter.
He skidded across the gravel, turned, and launched himself onto the wing with a desperate shout. Metal scraped under his boots as he charged across the tilted hull, every step a gamble against collapse.
The ramp was now barely a few feet above him - a single chance.
Kanesaki kicked off the fighter's edge, soaring through the smoke-choked air as the fire behind him lit the world in a blood-red glow.
His fingers caught the edge.
He slammed against the ramp, letting out a ragged growl as he hoisted both himself and Hirabayashi up, legs scrambling for leverage. Arms from inside - Sakaguchi's - grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled hard.
They collapsed inside the bay, the hatch sealing shut behind them.
Engines roared as the dropship lifted into the sky.
Kanesaki lay on his back, bloodied and gasping, Hirabayashi still unconscious in his arms.
Sakaguchi leaned over him, equally battered. 'You made it,' he said, half-laughing, half-breathless.
Kanesaki nodded faintly, staring at the ceiling above them.
'Barely.'
Handing Hirabayashi off to a team of medical personnel, Kanesaki took a slow step back, breath trembling. His gaze drifted out through the narrow viewport of the dropship at the still-burning ruins of the airbase. The flames danced stubbornly across blackened rubble - though the screaming had faded, and the thunder of gunfire had finally ceased, the air still trembled with aftershock.
The worst of it was over. But the silence left behind was heavier than the war.
As the ramp sealed with a hydraulic hiss, that silence settled fully over the ship. A silence not of peace, but of defeat, pain, and hollow survival.
Kanesaki moved to Sakaguchi's side, the two walking slowly down the length of the bay. Around them, the injured lay in clustered silence - some being stabilized by medics, others sitting with heads bowed, staring at nothing.
Kanesaki's voice was low. 'This… this really everyone?'
Sakaguchi gave a single, grim nod. 'Mhm. A damn massacre.'
They reached a pair of empty seats, collapsing into them with the weight of exhaustion. Both men exhaled - not in relief, but in the need to breathe again after holding it for too long.
'How's Yasuko?' Kanesaki asked, voice hoarse.
Sakaguchi looked forward, eyes trailing to the makeshift triage at the front of the bay. Medics moved with quiet urgency, distributing anesthetics, sealing wounds. Yasuko and Hirabayashi lay among them - unconscious, but alive.
'She'll pull through,' he said finally. 'She's a Chimera... you guys heal fast. Stronger than the rest of us.'
Kanesaki gave a slow nod, his eyes softening slightly.
Sakaguchi glanced sideways. 'So… you went back for Hirabayashi, huh?'
There was the faintest smile in his voice. He slung an arm around Kanesaki's shoulder - friendly, proud.
'Shows something real. Spirit. Going back in when anyone else would've left her behind.'
Kanesaki looked up slightly, his face easing. For the first time in hours, maybe days, there was a flicker of warmth in his chest.
'I commend you for that,' Sakaguchi said, more quietly. 'That was damn brave, Kanesaki.'
Kanesaki swallowed, almost sheepish.
'Thanks, Sakaguchi.'
The two sat quietly, letting the hum of the ship carry the silence for them. Around them, the last survivors of the battlefield clung to breath, to pain, and to the fragile relief of still being alive.
And for a moment - just a moment - that was enough.
The dull hum of the dropship's engines filled the void where voices had gone quiet. Flickering lights above gave the interior a dim, sickly glow - a pale wash over battered armor and gauze-wrapped limbs. The kind of silence where grief sat in every corner, unsaid but screaming.
Kanesaki leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes still unfocused. Sakaguchi beside him had gone quiet too, his hand lazily resting on his side, where blood had dried in a thick streak down his uniform.
Footsteps echoed faintly on the metal floor.
They were slow. Uneven. Hesitant.
Kanesaki looked up, and his brow furrowed.
Nishihara.
He was still wearing the YNS, stained with blood all over - Raiden's blood. His odachi was strapped haphazardly to his back, and he clutched his side with one hand, as if it hurt to move. But it wasn't the injuries that stood out. It was his face.
There was something far away in his eyes.
Like he hadn't fully returned with the rest of them.
Kanesaki stood as Nishihara approached. 'You made it,' he said, voice soft.
Nishihara stopped in front of them, his gaze drifting around - not really seeing, not really present. His breathing was shallow. His lips parted slightly, but no words came at first. Finally, he spoke, voice low and hoarse:
'I killed him.'
Kanesaki didn't need to ask who.
'He asked me to kill him,' Nishihara added, quieter still. 'Before the disease could. Said I had to… or die trying.'
Sakaguchi leaned forward, slowly. 'So he'd die here regardless..?'
Nishihara nodded faintly - not in agreement, but as if he was trying to convince himself.
'I knew he was too far gone,' he murmured. 'I knew it. But he still fought like hell. And when he finally missed… that last hit… but he never missed...'
He exhaled sharply - a broken breath, half a laugh, half a sob that never came.
'He let me win.'
Kanesaki stepped closer, placing a hand on Nishihara's shoulder. 'You gave him what he asked for.'
'I killed my friend,' Nishihara said, not looking at him. 'And I felt it. When the blade went through. I felt everything in him just… stop.'
He looked down at his hands, blood dried into the cracks of his knuckles. They were shaking. Almost imperceptibly. But enough.
Sakaguchi stood now too, silent. There was nothing more to say.
Nishihara swallowed, then looked up - his eyes unfocused, haunted, before cradling his head with his hands as he spoke.
'Why is it always me... Always the survivor...'
The dropship flew on in silence, three sitting in the stillness of aftermath - each of them changed, scarred in their own way.
The long night was over, the sun was rising shortly.
Chapter 31 - end