CHAPTER 166: CHAPTER 164 – A HOUSE FULL OF LAUGHTER

The countryside house was alive again.

It wasn’t the whir of machines or the hum of AI circuits this time—it was the sound of children’s feet racing across wooden floors, bursts of laughter echoing through hallways, and the delighted squeals of grandchildren discovering treasures hidden in the garden.

Ren sat back in his favorite wooden chair beneath the large sakura tree in the yard, the very one he had planted decades ago when the house was first completed. Its pink blossoms had returned like clockwork, but now they gently fell around the feet of his grandchildren.

Little Ami, Hikari’s daughter, now twelve, ran past him with a magnifying glass in one hand and a field notebook in the other. "Grandpa! The flower sensors you put in the garden are still working! They glowed blue this morning!"

Ren chuckled. "They know who you are. I coded them to light up for curious minds."

Not far behind her, Riku, Hina’s son, barely nine and always full of energy, was building what he called "a defensive perimeter" using twigs, stones, and cardboard pieces from an old VR set.

"Mom said you built something like this when you were young," he said with a proud puff of his chest.

Ren leaned forward. "Mine didn’t have laser alarms made from cereal boxes though. That’s new."

From the porch, Aoi watched the scene unfold, rocking gently in the bench swing, her granddaughter Yumi in her lap. Yumi had just turned six and still preferred cuddles over chaos.

"She’s the calm one," Aoi said as Ren joined her again. "Just like you."

"Which is ironic," Ren muttered, sitting down beside her, "considering how loud my head used to be."

Aoi leaned her head against his shoulder. "And yet here we are."

The warm afternoon passed slowly. The family shared bentō lunches under the trees, some made by Aoi, others by Hina and Hikari. Even Lucia spoke once or twice, her voice now sweetened and gentle, reserved only for light-hearted reminders: "Water break, kids!" or "Mind the roots around the tree, Riku."

In the evening, the grandchildren gathered around the fire pit.

"Tell us a story," Ami said.

"Yes! A real one," Yumi added, "about you and Grandma."

Ren exchanged a look with Aoi. They both smiled.

"All right," he said, gazing into the fire, "But it’s not just a story. It’s how we began. Once, there was a shy boy who never believed he’d find love..."

"...And a loud girl who never let him hide," Aoi finished with a wink.

As the fire danced, and the stars shimmered above the field, their voices carried the legacy onward—woven into the night like a memory still living.

This was their reward.This was home.