CHAPTER 57: LET’S RECREATE A MEMORY FROM THE PAST

Hearing that he was finally willing to make his move, Charlotte and Yelena both leaned in, eyes wide and glittering with anticipation, watching Mika closely, as if waiting for a magician to pull his next impossible trick.

Especially Yelena, she was more curious than anyone else. Because, even though she never ever said it out loud, it was always Mika who had cheered her up the most, without fail.

No matter what it was, no matter how silly the moment or how heavy her mood, he somehow always knew exactly what she needed.

Just like Charlotte had said.

There were days when a storm brewed in her heart, and no one could calm her—no one except him.

Like one time, he pulled his socks over his hands and put on a sock puppet show so deranged it felt like a fever dream. No plot, voices changing mid-sentence, and one puppet was literally him shrieking into a slipper.

But she still snapped out of her bad mood and laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch, gasping for air between hiccups.

Another time, he decided to cook, right in front of her, with the clear intent to butcher a perfectly good recipe. He called it baking, but what followed was a deliberate crime scene: salt instead of sugar, a generous squirt of ketchup, mustard for mystery, and finally, a handful of crushed potato chips for crunch.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew she couldn’t handle it, especially her, who treated cooking like it was holy. And just like he’d planned, it worked perfectly.

Her eye twitched, arms folded, trying so hard to stay silent. But the moment he reached for a jar of pickles and muttered, "This might make a good frosting," she snapped.

In the very next second, she was by his side, yanking ingredients away, scolding him about kitchen blasphemy while instinctively fixing his mess,completely forgetting why she was mad in the first place.

And then there was the karaoke incident.

He dragged out a machine, queued up her favorite song, and started belting it out like a dying seal on a fishing boat. Off-key. Too loud. On repeat.

By the third time, she launched a pillow at his face. By the fifth, she threw a kitchen towel. By the seventh, she stomped over, snatched the mic, and growled, "You’re lucky I love this song," before joining in.

Soon, they were both shouting lyrics, dancing like awkward penguins in the middle of the living room.

It also wasn’t just the ridiculous antics.

It was him.

If Charlotte did the same thing, she’d smile and pat her daughter’s head, maybe even give her a little "Thank you, my little fox." But she wouldn’t suddenly feel like the sun came out inside her chest. Wouldn’t feel that goofy flutter that made the world feel okay again.

But when Mika did it?

Instant mood repair. Every single time. Her frown would melt, her shoulders would drop, and she’d start laughing even if she didn’t want to. He had this ridiculous, beautiful way of crashing straight into the warmest part of her heart and refusing to leave.

Like a one-man circus with a golden ticket to her soul.

So she waited. Thought maybe he’d walk up and do something dumb and heartfelt again.

But this time, he didn’t do something.

Instead, he muttered something under his breath.

[The Severance...Born To Draw Blood, Cursed To Sail The Hollow Sea]

It was so quiet, so vague, that neither Charlotte nor Yelena caught it. But then, something shifted.

The sword they were riding began to glow faintly.

And then, it duplicated.

Yelena blinked, startled and then it duplicated again.

...And again.

...And again.

The air around them shimmered with the sudden bloom of a thousand swords, multiplying at a rapid pace.

Charlotte gasped and grabbed onto, while Yelena took a cautious step back, her mouth slightly parted as her eyes tracked the gleaming blades.

And then, they realized, this wasn’t just chaos.

There was order to the madness.

The blades weren’t scattering, they were shaping.

Forming edges, lines, curves...A structure.

First, a long surface. Then beams. Then came the deck. Railings. Portholes. Masts. A full curved hull beneath them. Sails, though made of folded and curved sword-like materials, emerged like wings catching the sky.

Charlotte let out a stunned whisper. "Wait...is that a ship?"

But it wasn’t just a ship.

It was a behemoth.

A metal giant made entirely of swords, gleaming and humming softly in the light. Intricate carvings were woven into the sides like natural engravings, every curve of its body mimicking the finest craftsmanship of an actual ocean-faring vessel, but impossibly floating through the air.

It stretched out so far in both directions that it seemed to curve with the earth itself, easily over 500 meters in length.

The three of them now stood on the very tip of the bow, wind rushing around them as if nature itself was applauding.

Charlotte clutched her hands together in front of her chest, practically bouncing.

"Oh my God! It’s a ship! A real ship made of swords just formed around us!" Her voice cracked with delight. "It’s so beautiful! It’s like, like something out of a dream!"

Yelena, who rarely let awe show on her face, was now visibly stunned. She slowly looked around her, taking in every detail of the ship, the details of the rivets, the polished sheen, the towering masts.

She whispered. "He...actually did all this. In seconds."

Even though she had mastered countless sword techniques herself, and could easily conjure something even larger in terms of raw size, the detail here was unmatched. Everything about this ship was down to perfection, crafted with patience, with finesse. Not just power.

And Mika stood there at the front, arms crossed casually, as if this weren’t a big deal at all. As if he hadn’t just birthed a flying mechanical sea-monster out of nowhere using nothing but his will.

Yelena watched him, her lips twitching upward.

Because of course. Of course it had to be him.

The same boy who once danced with socks on his hands to make her laugh.

Now building castles in the sky.

Charlotte also wandered along the front of the massive ship, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open as she took in the details carved into every inch of the shimmering silver surface beneath her feet.

The railings were gleaming, the sails extended out in majestic arcs made entirely from curved blades, and the deck stretched on endlessly behind her.

She trailed her fingers along the edge of the railing and finally let out an impressed sigh.

"This really is cool." She muttered, glancing back at the others before looking down over the deck again. "And it’s so beautiful too...like, seriously."

She leaned forward just a little, her elbows resting on the railing as she stared down below at the world so far beneath them. The city looked tiny now, minuscule buildings, twinkling lights, people like specks. She chuckled lightly.

"I bet everyone down there’s freaking out right now." She grinned. "Like, can you imagine what it must look like to them? A giant ass ship suddenly floating in the sky above their heads? Probably someone already called emergency services thinking that a rift had broken through or something."

She laughed again, then tilted her head toward Mika with a teasing glance.

"But seriously, why did you make such a huge ship, huh? Does Mama have some secret obsession with ships or something? Like...is she a lowkey ship enthusiast and we just never knew?"

Mika shook his head immediately, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Nope. Not even close. Your mother doesn’t care about ships. In fact..." He glanced at Yelena, and for a second she avoided his gaze, already sensing what was coming. "...her favorite mode of transportation is, guess what? It’s a sword, who would’ve thought?"

He cast a glance toward her with a teasing smirk, and Yelena, who had been admiring the elaborate construction of the ship with quiet awe, suddenly froze.

She quickly turned her head to the side, crossing her arms over her chest as if pretending she hadn’t been admiring anything at all. But she didn’t say a word. She simply huffed faintly, though her ears were still tuned to him, not wanting to miss a thing.

Mika didn’t press it. He smiled gently and went on, his voice warm and nostalgic.

"But, there was this movie..." He said, his gaze drifting up toward the sky as if picturing it again in his head. "A romance film. Way back before the rifts opened and the otherworldly creatures came out. Before the world became what it is now."

"It was this old, really famous movie about a couple falling in love on this massive ship. A real classic. Ended in tragedy, of course. Most old romances do."

Charlotte perked up curiously. "Wait, a romance movie? I don’t think I’ve seen that one before. What’s it called?"

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You probably haven’t. It’s really old. Came out way before everyone’s time. I doubt you’d have any interest in it anyway. But..." He looked toward Yelena again, a soft, unspoken fondness in his eyes. "...me and your mother? We used to watch movies like that together all the time. We were the old-movie lovers in the family."

Yelena’s stern expression finally softened. Just a little. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and then her gaze fell toward the deck beneath her, memories flooding back into her chest like waves crashing over her all at once.

She remembered those quiet evenings, curled up on the couch with him, tucked under a blanket they both stubbornly claimed more than their fair share of. A bowl of warm snacks sat between them, half-eaten, crumbs scattered everywhere, but neither of them cared.

He’d lean against her without asking, head resting on her arm like it belonged there, and she’d let him, always. The TV would play some vintage movie, but it wasn’t about the show.

It was about him. His laughter. His warmth. Those little sighs he made when he got too comfortable.

In those moments, she didn’t need anything else.

Mika went on, smiling a little more now as he looked at the floor, speaking more to her than to Charlotte.

"We didn’t even like that movie that much..." He admitted. "Both of us thought the ending was dumb and frustrating. It was so...avoidable. But there was one scene we liked. One part that made us laugh and smile every single time."

Yelena’s lips parted just a bit. Her eyes flickered as she already started to remember which one he was talking about.

"It was this scene..." He said. "Right at the front of the ship. The two leads stood together, side by side, with their arms wide open, pretending to fly. Wind blowing through their hair, ocean stretching out all around them...it was like they were soaring through the sea."

Charlotte’s eyes widened. "Ohh, I think I have seen that scene! Isn’t that like...iconic or something?"

"Yeah." Mika nodded. "It stuck with us. And after we watched it the first time, we actually recreated it. Kinda stupid, I know. I was just a kid at that time and she was following along with my whims."

"We climbed onto the sofa, stood at the edge, arms out, trying not to fall off. It was stupid but it was fun. Even when we made fun of how dramatic it was. It was still...ours."

His gaze shifted back to Yelena fully now, watching her reaction. And this time, she didn’t hide. She looked back at him, and she remembered. Perfectly.

She remembered standing there, wobbling on the edge of the couch while Mika held out his arms wide and yelled "I’m flying!" and how she had rolled her eyes and then mimicked him anyway, standing with her arms stretched behind him.

The image alone made her lips curl upward, her arms loosening around her chest as the corner of her mouth softened.

"And I was thinking..." Mika went on, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "Since we’re actually flying through the sky right now...why not actually do it? For real this time. Not just on a sofa."

Then, without waiting another moment, he stepped forward, right to the very tip of the ship.

The swords beneath his feet sparkled, stretching far into the open sky, and he spread his arms wide, embracing the wind that whipped past his coat and hair. He then turned his head over his shoulder, looking straight at her.

"I’m ready, Yelena." He said softly. "Ready to recreate that scene from the past. But this time, I’m not just a kid goofing around on a couch. I’ve made an actual ship. For you, Yelena. It’s flying through the night sky, all of this...just to cheer you up."

"...And now I’m just waiting for you to step forward so that we can live that memory of the past once again, that is, as long as you don’t mind snapping out of your little pouting stage."

His words echoed in the air, gentle but powerful and Yelena’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide as they filled with a sudden rush of emotion.

Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it echoed in her ears.

He remembered...He remembered everything.

Every silly little thing she thought he’d long forgotten. And now, here he was, recreating all of it, all for her.

Just for her.

Her lips trembled slightly. Her legs almost moved on their own, wanting to run to him, to throw her arms around him, to cry into his shoulder and tell him just how much he meant to her.

Because it wasn’t the ship, or the scale, or the sky.

It was him, it was the fact that it was her beloved boy who knew her the best. And just like always, he knew exactly how to cheer her up...