While Elara had an odd encounter outside, Ethan was getting scolded like never before. It wasn’t loud, but it was intense in a way that hit far harder than shouting ever could.

They had paused briefly when Elara stepped outside, both of them watching the door close behind her, the soft chime of the bell lingering in the air.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

But then Mark continued from where he had left off.

"I feel like I already lost you," he said, his voice quieter now, but heavier. "And ever since you gained your Title... it’s like you’ve become a different person."

Ethan leaned back slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And you’re still changing," Mark added. "Every single day."

Ethan shrugged lightly.

"I’m right here, mate."

He was trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work.

Mark’s jaw tightened.

"That’s not the point," he said. "What you’re doing - it’s not healthy. Throwing yourself into gates, chasing power like this..."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his hair before looking back at Ethan.

"And more than that... I didn’t want to pressure you, but..." he hesitated slightly, "...were you ever planning on going to see Mom and the others?"

Ethan blinked, then tilted his head.

"You mean your family?"

A punch came out of nowhere as Mark stepped forward. It was fast and clean, Ethan standing there without bothering to dodge.

Thud!

It connected squarely with his jaw, snapping his head slightly to the side.

’Not bad for an untitled, and he didn’t even follow through fully. What a unit,’ Ethan was impressed.

A month back, that might have knocked him out, but now it barely registered.

He slowly turned his head back, eyes meeting Mark’s.

"They’re your family too, Ethan."

Mark’s words hung in the air.

"It’s been over two months since you got out," he continued, his voice tightening again. "You went from being an alcoholic mess... to this, this crazy Titled running headfirst into death."

He gestured vaguely, frustration evident.

"And in both cases," he added, "you never once asked me about Mom or anyone else."

There was silence.

Ethan didn’t respond immediately simply because there wasn’t an easy answer.

He was staying in the Black Howl’s basement because he wanted to be alone. Mark didn’t even live here; he stayed at his mother’s house, the same place Ethan had once called home.

But Ethan couldn’t go back there, not after everything.

Seven years in that hellhole had changed him fundamentally; he wasn’t the same person who had walked into that prison.

Gaining a Title only made things worse.

The gates, the battles, the brushing against death again and again - it was forming him into something else entirely. Something ruthless, violent, and domineering.

A literal monster.

So, how was he supposed to walk back into that house? Into that warmth? Like nothing had changed? Like he hadn’t?

He couldn’t, or at least, that’s what he had been telling himself until now.

Mark’s words cut through it all: his excuses, avoidance, and the comfort of not dealing with it.

Ethan exhaled slowly, lowering his gaze.

"I’ve been an idiot," he admitted.

Mark didn’t interrupt or soften.

Ethan took a deep breath before continuing.

"I didn’t know how to face them," he said honestly. "After what I did... after everything that happened..."

His voice trailed slightly.

"I’m not the same kid they raised," he added quietly. "Not after all this time."

Mark’s expression didn’t change, but his voice did, becoming gentler.

"That doesn’t matter."

Ethan looked up.

"You owe it to her," Mark said. "To at least see her."

He paused to lock eyes with his blue-eyed friend.

"You refused to see her enough times over those seven years," he continued. "And even now, she asks about you every day."

Ethan’s chest tightened slightly.

"I keep telling her you need space," Mark added. "That you’re not ready."

He stepped forward slightly.

"Is that fair?" he asked. "To the woman who helped raise you?"

Ethan lowered his head again.

"You’re right."

He didn’t bother with any excuses, and for the first time in a long time, he felt that uncomfortable weight in his chest. It was the kind he had spent years avoiding, after all, there was no time for feelings in prison.

Survival was his primary focus and distraction.

When he got out, he replaced one distraction with another: alcohol, the tower, and training. He was always moving forward since looking back was troublesome.

By being fixated on the future, he wasn’t living in the present, but now there was no avoiding it.

This confrontation was exactly what he needed.

’I guess this is as good a time as any.’

Ethan let out a slow breath, then straightened slightly.

"Alright," he said. "Let me get some of these clothes off, then we’ll go."

Mark blinked.

"Now?"

"Yeah," Ethan replied. "Before I change my mind."

Mark stared at him for a second, then nodded.

"Alright."

He couldn’t argue with that.

Almost instantly, the tension dissipated, as if it had never been there at all. Ethan stepped forward, and Mark met him halfway, pulling him into a quick, tight hug.

It didn’t last long, nor did it need to.

Years of friendship and brotherhood didn’t require anything more.

When they pulled back, Mark shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Why the hell are you wearing so many layers?" he asked, only just noticing.

Ethan grinned.

"Free clothes are free clothes."

Mark snorted.

"Of course."

As Ethan started peeling off some of the extra layers, tossing them casually onto a nearby chair, Mark glanced toward the door.

"So..." he said slowly, "who’s the woman outside? Is she your date or something?"

Ethan didn’t even look up.

"That’s my new roommate."

That was not the answer Mark was expecting.

"What?!"

Mark blinked, but seeing Ethan being serious, he flipped out.

"What? No, Ethan. No, you can’t. She’s a, and what about-?"

He didn’t even get to finish because Ethan cut him off with one sentence as he headed toward the stairs.

"She’s an A Rank."

After leaving him with that, he disappeared downstairs, leaving Mark frozen in place.

"...An A Rank?"

His knees almost gave out.

Actually, they did slightly, as he grabbed onto the counter to steady himself.

Actually—

They did.

Slightly.

He had to grab onto the counter to steady himself.

"Are you-"

Mark stopped because he could tell when Ethan was joking or lying, and this wasn’t one of those times. And now that he thought about it, her face was familiar from the news.

He gulped, like someone in a horror movie. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

His eyes flicked from the stairs that Ethan had gone down, then to the door that Elara was behind. He had more questions than he could count, but before anything else, he didn’t want to leave an A Rank waiting for them outside.

If she lost her patience, she could quite literally incinerate his bar and the entire block.

As such, Mark took a breath, straightened his posture, and stepped outside.

For a split second, he felt something wrong.

There was a flicker of something dark and heavy in the air, just as a hooded figure bolted down the street at an unnatural speed.

Mark didn’t experience the brunt of Elara’s fearsome aura, but if he had, he likely would have instantly lost consciousness. But the lingering energy was enough to verify her rank.

Yet, looking at her now, he was confused.

Elara stood there timidly, hands clasped slightly in front of her as she shuffled anxiously. Not that it made her any less frightening, if anything, a volatile A Rank was likely even more dangerous.

Mark hadn’t felt this nervous in as long as he could remember as he stepped forward.

"Um..." he started, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "W-would you like to come in?"

If Ethan had seen this, he would have laughed his ass off.

The towering and unshakable Mark seldom fumbled his words, yet now he was sweating bullets just speaking to the woman.

Elara nodded gently and followed him inside.

The atmosphere was awkward as Mark gestured toward a seat.

"Uh... you can sit there."

She did so silently.

Mark hovered for a moment before asking, "Do you want a drink? Water? Something else?"

She shook her head quickly and signed, *I’ll just wait for Ethan.*

Mark didn’t understand, but he got the message.

"Right. Yeah. Of course."

There was an uncomfortable silence again.

Mark sat across from her, his hands resting on his knees, his back straight, like he was in front of some high-ranking official rather than a ragged-looking girl.

Neither of them spoke.

One was too nervous to, the other was a mute.

Seconds stretched so much that they felt like hours until they both finally heard footsteps. Ethan re-emerged from the basement, now in far fewer layers, looking far more like a normal human being.

He glanced between them, paused, then smirked.

"This is painful to watch."

Mark shot him a look, to which Ethan responded with a wink.

As soon as he returned, the awkwardness vanished.

And without any grand declaration or ceremony, that was the start of Elara living alongside Ethan in the Black Howl...