Naoko is certain that he'll be somewhere. She only has to search a little bit harder.

Ten years of being devoured in grief's clutches, bit by bit, atom by atom. Teeth that pick at her skin in intervals of mere milliseconds, each bite, each nibble, an anxious thought. That all of this is hopeless. That she is holding onto a fragment so infinitesimally small that she cannot, even with all of the time in the world, find him.

Those fangs that sink its teeth into the back of her neck, that pain, that agony. Did he even want to be found? Would he be proud of the person before him? Proud to live alongside her and her children? Was it all for naught, all of this pain, this toil, this entire empire that she had built from the ground up with her bare hands- would he even be proud of it?

But it had been ten years, and she was far, far too used to the feeling. Naoko's eyes narrow as she stares down onto those blinking city lights below her.

Once, she used to stand this tall on her own, looking down upon these lights in the open air, her weapon drawn and calculated. For what? To protect? To further this world into a cyclical drain where violence begets violence?

No. No longer. Now she can protect, alongside her children, alongside her staff. She can see what everyone is doing at home, and assure their safety. That's why her empire was built. Let her home live on in peace, so she can find him and bring him home, to a place where he can rest with no danger, no violence. A utopia. Heaven.

And rest assured, it would be Naoko Shimamura who brought this heaven to him.