Page 222 of Celestial Combat

He didn’t move for a long time. But his hand, still tangled with mine, squeezed hard. Like he needed something real to hold on to before the grief swallowed him whole.

I turned into him, both arms wrapping around his waist, head against his chest. His arms circled me in return – slow, strong, absolute. Like a gate finally unlocked after being shut for too many winters.

We didn’t say a word.

The weight of everything he had carried alone pressed down on both of us like a storm breaking at sea.

And I held him through it.

Let him mourn her the way he never had. Let him finally feel the loss he’d buried so deep, no one had ever dared to touch it.

We stood there, frozen in the stillness, in the scent of pine and fresh flowers and cold air rising from the stone.

The wind whispered through the branches overhead in a comforting breeze.

Like she knew.

Chapter 58

Present

Koh Samui, Thailand

THETROPICAL SUN WAS LIKE a welcome blanket as Kali and I stepped out of the SUV and into our villa’s entrance in Koh Samui. Heat shimmered above us, humid and calm.

I exhaled, the whole world feeling softer already.

Before we even made it to the front door, a familiar figure stood waiting in the polished sunlight.

Aleksandr Ivanova.

He wore a loose, patterned shirt and light linen shorts – out of place, yet somehow fitting in this paradise. His presence filled the space around him. His posture was relaxed, but his expression carried the weight of partially confessed truths.

Kali broke free from my side, excitement bright in her eyes. She ran toward him.

“Aleksandr! You made it!” she called, her voice ringing clear.

He turned and smiled – a slow, measured smile that seemed to carry relief. He shook Kali’s hand, then turned toward me.

He reached out first. When I took it, his grip was firm, respectful.

“I’m glad you could make it,” I said, voice steady in the midday sun.

He glanced past me – as though he saw her memory there. “I wouldn’t miss Yui’s memorial in any lifetime.” His voice caught for a heartbeat. “Thank you for welcoming me. And for making this right.”

My chest tightened. I nodded again, quietly grateful. The burden of that phone booth confession, the darkness that followed – it felt like we were stepping into an actual dawn.

Kali threaded between us, excitement and warmth in every gesture. We would be spreading Yui’s ashes together – final act of closure, and a new beginning.

Before departing Siberia last week, Kali and I wrote a letter and had it specially delivered to Aleksandr – the truth behind our mission in Japan, Yui’s life and death, my true parentage.

Except, in that moment, I didn’t know he was my father. A part I was still deciding to keep hidden.

“I came here with Yui once.”

“You did?” I managed, voice rough.

He nodded, turning back towards the horizon. “The summer before she passed.”

---