CHAPTER 154: CHAPTER 153.1 – “AFTER THE VOWS”

The guests had gone home. The music faded. The lanterns over the lake glowed faintly in the night breeze.

The once-bustling countryside garden was still now, littered with soft petals and empty wine glasses, reminders of laughter and tears. But at the heart of it stood two people—Ren and Aoi—seated side by side on the old wooden bench facing the moonlit orchard.

Aoi leaned into his shoulder, barefoot and still in her lavender bridesmaid dress. Her hand found his, fingers naturally interlocking like they always had.

"It felt like we were marrying her off too early," she whispered.

Ren smiled faintly, eyes still watching the lake shimmer.

"She’s older than you were when you first told me you loved me."

"And braver," Aoi chuckled softly, "I still remember your shocked face. You nearly fainted."

Ren laughed. "You were too beautiful for my brain to process back then. You still are."

Aoi turned to him slowly, eyes searching.

"Do you think... we gave her everything she needed?"

Ren didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled a small, silver device from his coat pocket—Lucia’s portable memory crystal. With a tap, it projected soft holographic snapshots: Hikari’s first steps... her first AI project... the first time she tried to make curry and almost destroyed the kitchen... Her nervously holding hands with Aoto for the first time.

"We gave her everything we could," Ren said at last, "and everything we didn’t have growing up."

"And she gave us back something even bigger," Aoi whispered. "Purpose."

They sat in silence, the years rushing quietly between them like the river behind the trees.

The Quiet Moment

Aoi eventually pulled off her earrings and placed them in Ren’s palm.

"You know what scares me?"

"Hm?"

"Not time. Not getting older. Just... the idea that one day, all this will fade. That the trees will grow tall again. The bench will rot. Our voices will be gone."

Ren took a long breath. Then, gently, he reached into his jacket and handed her a small pendant. Inside was a sleek sliver of crystal—almost like a neural chip.

"This holds a trace of our story," he said softly. "Every message, every memory Lucia ever archived. One day, when we’re not here, the trees might grow tall... but our love will still echo."

Aoi stared at the pendant, her hands trembling now.

"You’re such a sentimental idiot," she said, voice cracking.

"I had a good teacher."

The Promise

The breeze picked up. Fireflies blinked between the trees.

Ren stood and extended a hand.

"Dance with me, Aoi."

"No music," she smiled.

"Then we’ll make our own."

Under the stars, on the petal-strewn lawn where their daughter had just begun her new life, Ren and Aoi danced slowly, quietly. Not as the brilliant minds they were once known for. Not as innovators, or award-winners, or legends in secret AI forums.

Just as Ren and Aoi.

Husband and wife.

Two souls who had made it through youth, war, heartbreak, creation, death, and rebirth—together.

"Till the end?" Aoi whispered.

"No," Ren said gently. "Even after."