もののけ | monster | soshiro hoshina (Kaiju No. 8) (COMPLETE)

LAST CHAPTER

もののけ | kaiju | monster

[A lengthy chapter ahead]

2 weeks later

Soshiro

MY EYES STRAIN TO OPEN, fighting against the swelling that's finally started to ease. After a week in this supposed safe house, after being dragged out of that godforsaken hellhole, I'm barely beginning to feel human again. The nurses come in every day, checking my injuries, tending to the bruises, wrapping the broken rib that feels like it's stabbing me with every breath. But it's getting better, they say, though it still feels like hell.

I blink up at the plain, sterile white ceiling, and that's when I feel a small, warm weight on my right arm. I look down, and there she is—my Somi, my little girl, fast asleep, her tiny head resting on my bicep. She's got her little tiger onesie on, pacifier bobbing slightly as she breathes, her small fist clutching my shirt like it's the only thing tethering her. God, she's bigger than I remember, and it hits me, hard, just how much I've missed. It's been over two months without her, two months I'll never get back, but she's here now, right here with me. I lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead, drinking in the feel of her, the soft warmth of her little body. I need this, need her, like I need air, like I need to feel something good after all the hell I've been through.

Then I feel another weight on my left arm. Slowly, I turn my head and see her—Kiyomi, her face softened in sleep, her dark hair spilling over my arm. I can't help the faint smile tugging at my lips, despite everything. Here I am, battered, bruised, barely holding together, and sandwiched between my two girls. Somi on one side, Kiyomi on the other, both asleep, both here, both safe. It's the closest I've felt to heaven after all the fucking hell these past months. I don't know how I got this lucky, how I survived, but right now, I don't care. This, right here, is everything I've fought for, and I'd go through it all over again just to have this moment.

I lean down, my chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to her exposed forehead. There's still this raw disbelief swirling in my head—how the hell she's here, alive, with me. I don't know, and I don't fucking care. All that matters is she's here. She shifts, and I see the way her face softens in her sleep before her expression tenses, her eyes fluttering open slowly until they meet mine. We stare for a beat, a whole second where the world feels like it's finally holding still.

She pushes herself up, breaking the warmth between us, and I already miss it. "You're awake," she says, her voice low, soft. God, how I missed that voice, even just the sound of it. But there's something else—faint, almost hidden, but it's there—the metallic tang of blood. I cab smell it from her. She's been busy, and I know damn well what that means.

"Do you need something? Should I call the nurse? Are you hurting?" Her questions start pouring out, one after another, like she's holding herself back from leaning in closer, from just being here with me. She's ready to stand, to leave, but my hand catches hers, coiling around it tightly. I can't let her go, not again. My fingers grip hers, and I see her look down at our joined hands, then back up to me, her gaze uncertain.

"Stay," I say, my voice rough. "You're all I need." The words spill out, unfiltered. I can see the hesitation flicker in her eyes, and damn, it still messes with me—this new look of hers, this changed face. Her golden hair, now dark as ink; her once-bright green eyes now a stormy blue. But it's her. I know it's her, the only person I'd go through all this hell for.