I WAS The Rank–1 Hero Chapter 4: Homecoming

The words hung in the air– "Mom, I am ho." They felt unreal even to . But it was real. All too real.

My mother clung to like I might disappear at any mont, her sobs filling the café.

"You're alive!" she repeated, her voice trembling with disbelief and overwhelming joy. "You're alive!" Her grip on tightened.

Her cries where loud–loud enough to draw attention from the café's custors. Conversations halted.

Chair scraped against the floor as they turned towards us, their expressions raging with confusion to concern.

So whispered to one another, but I couldn't hear them over the sound of my mother's weeping.

From the kitchen, a man erged, wiping his hands on a towel. He was tall and had broad–shouldered, his dark hair with streaks of grey. His eyes, weary from years of hard work, froze for a mont as he saw us.

The towel slipped from his hand as he rushed toward the scene.

"Eleanor, what's going on!?" His voice was steady, his steps halted as his gaze landed on .

He stopped in his tracks, his face pale and eyes wide with disbelief.

My mother finally loosened her grip enough to move turn toward him–still hugging , her face wet with all the tears. "L-Leonard... It's Zane. Our Zane. He's alive... See? What did I tell you for all this ti... My baby boy... He is alive..."

He didn't move. For a long mont, he simply stood there, staring at with disbelief as if I were a ghost.

His lips opened and closed like a fish, as if trying to say sothing, but no words ca out.

The café grew even quieter, the onlookers holding their breath, as if they too were awaiting his reaction.

Finally, my father broke free from his shock, taking a slow, unsteady steps toward . His eyes teared, and his voice cracked as he spoke.

"How... How is this possible? Is it really you... Zane?"

I nodded, my throat tight as I replied. "It's , Dad. I'm Ho."

His hands trembled as he reached out his hand to touch my shoulder, as if afraid I might vanish under his fingers.

When he felt the solidity of my presence, he hurriedly pulled into an embrace. It was firm strong–the embrace of father who had longed for his son every day for three years.

"You are alive," he whispered, his voice breaking. "My boy...My Zane..."

"I'm... here," I said, my own voice breaking, my tears falling. "I'm here, Dad."

As the tears and the embrace between the three continued, a sweet voice suddenly ca from the staircase.

Her voice shaky, A little hesitant. "What... What's going on? Dad, Mom–"

My heart clenched. There she was–My older sister, standing frozen at the top of the stairs.

She looks exactly like younger version of my mother. Her long black hair falls of her shoulders reaching her waist.

Her usually composed deanour crumbles as she stared , her pale hands trembled.

"...Zane?" Her voice barely audible.

Tears already streaming, I took a step forward. "Hey, Elise... It's ."

"Uh–" She gasps, her legs giving way for mont, as if her body couldn't handle the flood of emotions hitting her all at once.

But then without any hesitation, she rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in her toes as she throws herself at my arms.

Her voice cracking as she sobs uncontrollably, gripping so tightly it almost hurts.

"Zane! It's you–it's really you! I thought I'd never see you–...I thought I've lost you forever!"

Holding her tightly, feeling her shaking in my arms, My voice cracks.

"I'm here, Sis. I'm here. I'm sorry for leaving you... I'm so sorry."

For a mont it was just the four of us–my sister quietly sobs, my mother and father silently tears, and , sandwiched between them.

The café faded away.

Nothing else mattered to .

Eventually, my father pulled back slightly, his hands still on my shoulders. His eyes searched mine, as such looking for a proof that this wasn't so kind of illusion.

"Where have you been for all those years? We thought... we thought we lost you in that explosion."

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the lies I have rehearsed on my way here.

"I survived, but barely," I said, my voice low and steady. "The explosion on Frostvile Museum threw far away, and I was in a coma for the past three years."

It wasn't completely a lie. I couldn't bla them for thinking I was dead.

That day at Frostvile Museum, my parents had taken for a tour when an unexpected explosion killed nearly a hundred civilians.

I was caught in the blast and barely survived. The Hero Association found and took in, claiming I had so kind of bizarre powers.

For at least a year I was trained like a dog–for the sole purpose of being the greatest weapon they possess.

And later on, I beca everyone's symbol of hope, and they nad [Hope].

My real Identity as 'Zane Skylark' remained hidden, even from them, I had signed a contract that stated revealing of my identity would bring them doom at my own hands.

Thus, even the upper-echelon mbers of the Hero Association didn't know who I truly was.

"A coma?" my mother repeated, her voice trembling–worrying, as her soft hand squeezing mine.

I nodded. "I woke up only a few months ago. It took ti to recover enough to travel back here."

I lowered my gaze, feeling sha. "I wanted to co back sooner, but I couldn't. I am sorry."

My father's hand moved to my cheek, his touch was gentle. "You have nothing to apologize for, son. You're alive–that's all that matters."

My mother wiped her tears with the edge of her apron, her smile radiant despite her teary face. "Let's close the café for the day. My son travelled for an entire day. You must be hungry."

"Very hungry."

"Co on, Zane," she said softly, her voice thick with tears, "Let's go upstairs."

Our house is a two-story building of first floor being the café and the second floor being our ho, as my sister took to the second floor which held our ho, I noticed, neatly potted plants lining in the balcony spoke of my mother's flawless care, while the slight creak n the wooden staircase hinted at my father's stubborn refusal to replace anything that still had character.

It wasn't any thing grand or luxurious, but it was ours. Every inch of the house held mories–so cherished, so painful, but all part of .

Later, as I stood in the steaming bathroom, I heard a faint sound outside the door.

I opened it slightly to find Elise sitting on the floor, her back against the wall.

"Elise?" I asked, surprised from the other side of the door.

"I just... I can't leave. What if you disappear again?" she said softly.

I crouched down, resting my back against the door. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't understand. For three years, I lived every day thinking you were gone. And now you are here, but... it feels like a dream. What if I wake up and you're gone again?"

I swallowed hard, her voice cutting deep. "I'm here," I said firmly. "And I'll prove it to you every day if I have to."

"You better."

For the past fifteen minutes, Elise had been chatting non-stop.

My older sister–just eleven months older than –was on verge of turning eighteen, she didn't even pause her chatter while I was in the bath, as if afraid I might vanish the mont she stopped talking.

When I finally erged, we made our way to the dinner table together.

It was laden with all my favourite dishes: spiced venison stew, perfectly glazed carrots, and a golden, flaky apple pie that filled the room with its sweet, comforting aroma.

As I took my first bite, the tension in the room seed to lt away.

Both my parents and Elise watched , their faces a mixture of joy and relief, as though seeing eat was proof that I was really here—that I was truly back.

The flavours hit like a wave, rich and comforting, a perfect harmony of spices and warmth. The tender at, the fresh vegetables, the subtle hit of herbs–it was perfect. So very perfect.

My jaw stilled as I swallowed as I felt an unfamiliar creeping up in my chest, spreading into my eyes.

The tears flowed down my cheek before I even realized.

My fork clattered softly against the bowl as I wiped my face, but the tears wouldn't stop.

They rolled down my cheeks, hot and continuously.

My sister, sitting across from , leaned forward, her brows knitting together in concern. "Zane, why are you crying?"

I shook my head, trying to smile, "I don't know," I added. "Maybe... because it's been so long since I felt this. Since I felt."

"Idiot. You are crying because you're happy. And now you are making cry."

We all laughed, the sound breaking through the emotional tension.

For the first ti in years, the house was filled warmth and laughter.

As the conversation turned to lighter topics, Elise proudly pulled out her [NOVA] ID card, her na displayed along side her rank as a five-digit hero.

[NOVA] is the pinnacle of hero education, an institute renowned for producing the finest rankers.

Located in the heart of [Frostvile] Kingdom, it's more that just a school, it's a place where only the most determined and capable individuals rise to beco the ultimate protecters of society.

"I'm training to beco a hero, just like [Hope]," she said, her eyes sparkling.

I chuckled, the irony almost too much. "You're doing great, Elise," I said, ruffling her hair.

"Hey stop that! I'm the older." My sister said as she proceeds to pat my head.

The atmosphere was lighter now, I couldn't help but watch my family as they spoke–my mother pouring another bowl of stew, my mother grumbling about the custors, and my sister, bead with joy as she shared stories about her ti at [NOVA].

"[NOVA] huh? I didn't realize you enrolled."

"Of course, I did! I wanted to make mom and dad proud. After you..." Her voice faltered for a mont, but she quickly recovered. "After everything that happened, I realized I wanted to protect people, just like all other Heroes."

'Heros huh...Could I be one day going back to that?'

I had left that life behind and gone into laying low from the Hero Association.

But now, hearing the excitent in my sister's voice as she spoke of [NOVA], I couldn't help but feel a spark of the old fire. I once was a Rank–1 Hero, feared by many.

But now...

Was that really all?

The days of my glory seed distant, blurred by the pain and confusion that had followed since that 'thing' took my life.

I wasn't the sa anymore. How could I be? My body has changed, my powers had evolved, but had my purpose?

I looked at my sister–my brave, optimistic sister–and a part of wanted to smile, to reach out and encourage her.

She was already a hero to her own right, and to see her admiring soone like [Hope] made proud.

She didn't know the true weight of being a hero, the cost of that title–the losses, the sacrifices. I had lived that, and I didn't know if I could ever go back to it. I didn't know if I wanted to.

She was still full of hope, still looking up to [Hope] who had fought so fiercely, so selflessly. She believed in . And maybe, just maybe, I could still be that for her.

'Maybe I could help her avoid the darkness I had fallen into.'

"Zane..." Her voice brought back to the mont. "Why don't you co to NOVA with , who knows maybe you could replace [Hope] and be my next hero."

The words hit harder than I expected.

'Maybe this ti, I can do it differently.'

I looked at her, at that girl who had always looked up to [Hope]—to , and for the first ti I saw the path ahead clearly. I had to grow stronger–not just for , but for her, for my parents, for the world that has unknown threats lingering around.

A weight seed to settled in my chest, but it was different–This ti, It wasn't my anger or fear. It was my resolve.

I'll go back. Not as [Hope], but as Zane Skylark.

I'll beco even stronger–No even strongest. So strong that even the gods will tremble with the very na of Zane Skylark.

End of Chapter