Outpost 34 had changed.
It no longer stood alone in the wasteland as a fractured, half-functioning station barely holding itself together; in the months since the night raid, it had expanded, absorbed into a wider network, reinforced and rebuilt into something more stable and more controlled, something that felt constantly watchful.
The lights no longer flickered, and the corridors no longer felt hollow, yet something about the place still hadn't settled.
Nishihara stepped through the outer gates in silence, the mission already behind him, though its weight lingered anyway. The YNS frame still clung to his body, its systems humming faintly as he moved through familiar paths toward the armoury, where technicians were already waiting, as they always were.
He didn't speak as they approached; their hands moved with practiced efficiency, detaching the frame piece by piece, metal loosening in segments as reinforced plating pulled away until the weight of it was finally gone. He was lighter for it, technically, but not by much.
One of the technicians took the frame carefully and said, 'We'll recalibrate it before your next deployment,' but Nishihara didn't respond, already turning away and leaving without a word.
The corridors toward his quarters were quieter now, with less movement and fewer voices, the kind of silence that came late into the night when most of the base had already shut down. When he reached his door and pushed it open, he stopped.
A note sat on the small table inside, folded neatly, deliberately placed.
Nishihara stepped in slowly, closing the door behind him as he picked it up, his eyes scanning the short message.
Come see me.
A small heart had been drawn beneath it, signed simply–
Y.
His expression barely shifted, but his grip tightened, the paper crumpling in his hand with a quiet snap as irritation flickered briefly across his face before settling into something flatter, more controlled. For a moment, it looked like he might ignore it, like he might just drop it and move on.
Then he exhaled, slow and measured, and turned.
***
The walk outside was colder than the interior of the base, the air sharper against his skin, carrying the dry chill of the desert night as he stepped into the open complex. Lights lined the pathways and cast long shadows across the ground, but beyond them the darkness stretched wide and endless, untouched.
Above, the moon hung clear and bright, completely unobstructed.
For a moment, Nishihara slowed, not fully stopping but enough to register it, the quiet, the stillness, the kind of pause that almost felt like it belonged to someone else.
It didn't last.
His steps carried him onward through the outer sections of the base and toward a more isolated set of quarters set apart from the main barracks, the captain's wing.
He stopped at the door and knocked once, calm and measured, then waited through a brief pause before it opened.
Yasui stood there, dressed far more casually than protocol allowed in a loose crop top and shorts, her posture relaxed, one hand resting lightly against the frame of the door. A faint flush coloured her cheeks, and her eyes were just slightly unfocused, not drunk, but close enough to blur the edges.
'You came,' she said, her voice lighter than usual.
Nishihara's gaze narrowed slightly as he answered, 'You've been drinking.'
Yasui smiled faintly and didn't deny it, instead stepping aside just enough to let him in without hesitation or formality.
'Come on.'
Nishihara stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a soft click, and the room immediately felt different from the rest of the base, dimly lit, quieter, carrying an atmosphere that was less rigid and far less structured.
Yasui didn't give him time to adjust. Her hand caught his sleeve and pulled him forward, her voice dropping as she murmured, 'You're always so serious.'
Nishihara frowned slightly and started, 'If this is about–'
She cut him off by pushing him back against the door, the impact light but unexpected, followed immediately by the press of her lips against his.
It wasn't hesitant or slow; her hand braced lightly against his chest as she leaned into it, and when she pulled back just enough to speak, her voice stayed low.
'It's boring when you talk.'
Nishihara's hand came up instinctively, catching her wrist, not rough, but firm enough to create space between them.
'Yasui.'
But she was already moving again, pulling him further into the room, toward the bed, not giving him space to reset the moment, only redirect it.
There was a brief pause, a shift in weight and intent, before Nishihara stopped, this time more deliberate, pulling back slightly as his expression tightened just enough to show resistance.
'Not tonight,' he murmured.
Yasui blinked at him, then tilted her head, not offended, just amused. She stepped away, reaching for the side table before turning back with a bottle in her hand, holding it out toward him with a faint, teasing smile.
'Might help,' she said lightly.
The room fell quiet again, the offer hanging between them, suspended in the space neither of them quite closed.
***
Later, the room had fallen quiet, the only sound left the slow, uneven rhythm of breathing and the faint hum of the outpost's ventilation system above them, the earlier tension burned out and replaced by a dull, heavy stillness that clung to the air.
Nishihara lay back against the mattress, one arm resting loosely at his side while the other draped briefly across his forehead before falling away, his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace, and there was a weight in it that had nothing to do with the moment itself and everything to do with what had led up to it.
Beside him, Yasui breathed almost shakily as she shifted closer, her body pressing into his side as if instinctively seeking warmth, a faint, teasing smile lingering on her lips as she glanced up at him.
'Not in the mood, huh?' she murmured, her voice soft, edged with amusement. 'You've got a funny way of showing that.'
Nishihara didn't answer. He simply exhaled slowly and turned his head toward the ceiling fan above, watching it spin in slow, lazy circles, the motion blurring at the edges, distant enough to focus on without having to engage with anything behind it.
Yasui's hand slid lightly across his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns as she leaned in and pressed a brief kiss against his neck, soft, lingering, almost possessive, lingering there as if expecting him to respond in kind.
He didn't stop her, but he didn't return it either. After a few seconds, his voice broke the quiet.
'We still haven't found them.'
The words landed heavily.
Yasui stilled, a small but noticeable pause settling between them as the meaning caught up, and then she pulled back just enough to look at him properly, her expression shifting as the earlier playfulness gave way to something more fragile.
'…You really picked the perfect moment for that,' she said, a faint, breathy laugh slipping out, not entirely amused.
Nishihara didn't react to the tone. 'There wasn't a good moment,' he replied flatly, 'so I said it when there was one.'
Yasui shook her head lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips again, though it didn't quite reach her eyes this time.
'Romantic,' she muttered, though her gaze drifted away soon after, unfocusing slightly.
'…Yasuko too, huh.'
The name settled between them, fragile and sharp at the same time. Yasui's expression looked more empty now.
Yasui shifted again, this time pulling a little further away, her arm resting across her own stomach instead of him, the closeness not disappearing entirely, but changing, less warmth, more distance.
'…Why do you keep chasing them?' she asked quietly.
Nishihara didn't hesitate. 'You know why.'
She exhaled slowly through her nose, her eyes closing briefly as if steadying herself.
'Yeah,' she admitted. 'I do.'
Another pause followed, heavier now.
'But it's getting worse,' she continued, her voice softer. 'You're not letting it go, not even a little.'
Nishihara's gaze remained fixed upward. 'I can't.'
Yasui turned her head slightly toward him again, studying his face in the dim light, the tension still set in his jaw, the way his eyes never quite rested even when he was still.
'…You're going to drive yourself insane,' she said.
'Maybe,' he replied.
There was no resistance in his voice, no denial, just acceptance, and that, more than anything, made her expression falter.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The room settled back into quiet, heavier than before, the earlier closeness now tangled with something unresolved.
Eventually, Yasui shifted closer again, not as boldly this time, not with the same teasing energy, but enough to rest her head lightly against his shoulder.
She didn't say anything else.
Neither did he.
The silence stretched on, slow and steady, until exhaustion began to pull at them both, the edge of wakefulness dulling as their breathing evened out and the weight of the day, and everything before it, finally caught up.
Somewhere between thought and sleep, the tension eased just enough.
And eventually, without another word, they both drifted off.
Chapter 79 – end