As the pair of them approached the house again, Noka began to form her swimming thoughts into a speech to give to her grandfather, and fought off the shaky queasiness that had washed over her upon realising what she was about to do. After years and years, she was at last opting to fight the demons that she had previously allowed to harm her. This was the beginning of a new era in her life, the start of the new Noka, a strong, brave Noka, who didn't let harsh words get to her or allow evil to go on existing. A Noka that no longer blamed herself for other peoples faults, and brought retribution to those who did cruelty.
She burst in through her hut's rackety door and stood triumphantly in the doorway for a few seconds, staring into the main room. Marks in the floor showed where an armchair had been dragged from Kutsan's bedroom into the centre of the room. He sat there, slouched, holding his cane across his lap like a pet, his head resting on his shoulder as he slept, silently. Her face fell slightly into confusion. She began to move closer, and it began to become clear why the room had turned so quiet. He was utterly still, his eyes staring straight ahead, gazing at the doorway blankly. He had come to wait for his granddaughter to come home, the lonely old man who had so little left to cling to, and he would never stop waiting.
Noka stood over him. No longer was she the strong, brave, new Noka. Instead her shoulders sagged, her dry eyes focused on attempting to process what this was. The open scar on her face had begun to sting from the heat, but she was numb to its pain. A small trail of blood trickled out of it and off the edge of her mask, the droplet exploding on her toe, but she did not feel it.
No grandiose speech came from her lips. Not a word was uttered. She simply stood in silence before her dead grandfather.