The apartment was well-decorated and ready for move-in. Cardboard boxes were piled up in the living room, hinting that the two sisters had just moved in and hadn't had time to clean up yet. The walls seemed empty, though some photos had been arranged, mostly ones of the sisters together.
Sakura stood in the kitchen, gently slicing potatoes with a kitchen knife. Each slice was precisely two millimeters thick, without any mistakes. She didn't even look at the chopping board. Her focus was on the food, but she was also secretly observing what was going on in the living room.
A cartoon was playing on the TV, and Ryan was hiding behind the rabbit doll, pretending to make jokes about "Mr. Rabbit's Big Quiz" or "Mr. Rabbit's World Travels." Rin giggled at his antics, paying close attention to him.
Ryan was really good with kids.
Rin, who rarely made friends, was a little wary of strangers. Sakura had worried that Rin might be difficult with Ryan, but the result was better than expected.
Sakura was becoming more and more curious about Ryan. Her first impression of him had been one of fear and wariness, given his unparalleled strength and his history of taking lives without blinking an eye. He had a reputation as a natural executioner. Yet here he was, sitting in her living room, playing with Rin like a big brother.
'This is insane,' she thought. The calm, serene environment of her home, with its soft yellow walls and fabric sofas, made the scene even more surreal. Anyone who walked in would think it was an ordinary family of three.
"Sister, when is dinner?" Rin's voice brought Sakura back to reality.
"Ten minutes," Sakura replied quickly. "I'll be done once the curry is ready. Can you clean the table? And remember to wash your hands."
The scene was visible to Rin. She turned around, her eyes wide with mischief. "Brother Ryan, I've never seen my sister like this. Are you two really okay?"
Ryan grinned, his eyes narrowing. "I told you, we're just colleagues. Don't overthink it."
Rin pouted and thought hard. "But my sister's never brought a colleague home, especially not a boy."
Ryan's eyes twinkled mischievously as he moved closer. "Alright, I won't say anything else. Just stop tickling me!"
"Hehe, that's better," Ryan replied, standing victorious. "Now, you stay here and watch TV. I'll help your sister cook."
"Brother Ryan, are you and my sister secretly saving the world?"
Rin's innocent question made Ryan pause. He turned to see Rin, her face illuminated by the glow of the TV, playing the latest Fire Moth-sponsored animation. The show featured heroes fighting Honkai beasts and included tips on how to seek refuge and survive a disaster. Ryan knew that Rin had probably pieced things together from what she'd seen and heard.
He walked over, crouched down, and whispered in her ear, "Of course, she's a hero. She's even better than the ones in the cartoons, I promise."
Rin's eyes lit up with excitement. "My sister is a hero?"
Ryan chuckled. "She sure is."
Rin didn't question him. Her excitement showed in her shining eyes as she nodded eagerly, clearly trusting Ryan's words. "I'll keep it a secret!" she whispered.
Ryan smiled at Rin's enthusiasm. Kids were so gullible, but that was the beauty of it. It reminded him of Hua, both of them wanted to protect the people they loved and contribute their strength, but Sakura wanted Rin to live a normal life, far removed from the horrors she had faced. Sakura was a dedicated protector, but not always open about her inner struggles.
Ryan entered the kitchen, where Sakura had already cut the vegetables and was now adding ingredients to the pot to stew. The smell of honey and milk wafted from the curry she had prepared.
Ryan had tasted Sakura's cooking before during their time in the desert town, and it was clear that she was an excellent cook, not just a killer. He was impressed by how she could go from someone who had seen bloodshed to someone capable of preparing such comforting food.
Sakura had her pink hair tied up in a ponytail and was wearing an apron. She looked every bit like a gentle, capable woman—completely different from the killer he had seen in the battlefield.
Ryan stood in the doorway, watching her for a moment before pulling on his own apron. "Let me help," he said.
Sakura looked up, startled, but smiled softly. "You really are full of surprises. Strength aside, I never imagined you'd be good at cooking."
"Wait and see," Ryan said confidently.
He approached the counter, looked over the vegetables, and scanned the neatly arranged kitchen knives. He took one and began cutting with precision.
Sakura watched, somewhat impressed. Ryan moved with fluidity, cutting the fish into delicate diamond-shaped pieces after removing the scales and cleaning it.
Good knife skills, she thought.
Ryan worked effortlessly, frying the fish to a perfect golden brown, before adding tomato juice and sweet-and-sour sauce to make a glossy red coating. The smell was mouthwatering.
Sakura, who had been quietly watching, was now paying closer attention. She moved back slightly, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you sure you want to fry it in that much oil? It looks like a lot."
Ryan grinned. "Generosity is a way of life. It looks good, doesn't it?"
Sakura couldn't argue. When he finally finished, the dish was a masterpiece—squirrel fish, with its crispy golden skin, drenched in a bright, sweet-and-sour sauce.
The room was filled with an inviting aroma, and Sakura couldn't help but be impressed. She took a small bite and immediately smiled. "Is this... Shenzhou cuisine? I've never seen it before."
"Squirrel fish is a famous dish from Jiangnan. Since there isn't enough seasoning in Lion City, I adapted the flavor to fit your sister's taste," Ryan explained nonchalantly.
Sakura nodded, understanding. "It's not that simple. Most people can't control the temperature when frying fish. The technique has to be perfect."
Ryan grinned. "That's the challenge. And who needs Honkai to add special effects to something already perfect?"
Sakura shook her head with a laugh, her mind still a little confused about how Ryan could pull this off so easily. "Well, I'll admit, it's delicious."
"Glad you like it," Ryan said, beaming. "Let's eat."
The table was set, with curry, salad, and the squirrel fish in the center. Rin eagerly picked up a piece of fish and popped it into her mouth, her eyes lighting up in delight. "This is amazing, Brother Ryan. Did you really make this?"
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You called me brother?"
Rin didn't hesitate. "Yeah! This is so good! Can you make it for me every day?"
Ryan chuckled. "Sure, I'll make it every day... for the next few days."
Rin's face dimmed slightly. "Just a few days?"
Sakura, watching her sister's expression, smiled softly and patted Rin's head. "Don't worry, Rin. We'll make the most of it."
As they ate, Sakura couldn't help but feel a warmth in her heart. Despite everything that had happened, this small moment of peace, with good food and the people she cared about, was enough to make her feel thankful.
She glanced at Ryan, who was eating with a satisfied smile on his face, and noticed the gentle, almost affectionate look he gave Rin.
For the first time in a long while, Sakura realized something: maybe, just maybe, they could have a real life like this.
Ryan watched as Sakura placed her chopsticks down and looked at Rin and him with an unusual expression. The tender smile she wore contrasted sharply with the cold, reserved persona she usually presented. Her gaze was soft, almost affectionate, as if she were taking in the warmth of the moment—a warmth that came from the small, simple joy of sharing a meal together.
"You okay?" Ryan asked, leaning back slightly in his chair, his tone light but laced with curiosity. He had never seen Sakura quite like this before, especially not with the usual icy edge that defined her.
Sakura's eyes softened, and she let out a quiet sigh. "Yeah," she said after a pause. "I guess I'm just thinking how... nice this is." Her gaze flickered back to Rin, who was still happily munching on the food. "I don't remember the last time we were all together like this."
Ryan understood. It was a rare moment of peace in their otherwise chaotic lives. His mind momentarily drifted to his own thoughts, but he quickly snapped back to the present. Sakura's words struck a chord in him. The simplicity of the scene—the food, the warmth of the room, the happiness of a child—was a stark contrast to the struggles and violence that surrounded their lives. This was what they fought for, what they risked everything for.
As Sakura watched the two of them, something like peace seemed to settle over her, and Ryan couldn't help but smile to himself. He didn't know how much longer they would have moments like this, but he was determined to make them last.
Rin, noticing the quieter tone at the table, looked up. "Sister, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.
Sakura smiled warmly at her sister. "I'm just... happy," she said quietly. "Just a little full."
Ryan chuckled at that. "You can't be full just from the food. You're probably just overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of my culinary skills."
Rin giggled at the playful remark, and Sakura couldn't help but laugh too, the tension in her shoulders easing a little more. The moment was perfect in its simplicity—something Ryan could never have planned, but that didn't matter. The meal, the laughter, the closeness—it all felt like home.
And in that moment, Sakura realized, for the first time in a long while, she didn't have to worry about what was coming next. For once, she was allowed to simply be. To enjoy the present. And it was more than enough.
"Alright, alright," she said, breaking the silence with a playful tone, "I'll eat more, I guess. But only because you insist, Ryan."
Ryan raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Good choice. It's the only way to keep your sister happy, after all."
As they continued their meal, the soft yellow light of the chandelier cast a gentle glow over the room, filling the space with a peaceful warmth. The future could wait. For now, all that mattered was the quiet, shared happiness of being together.