A Hug Before the Final Chord

Afterwards, I learned so much more about Lyra.

The reason she didn’t sing around us was the risk of being recognized by her voice.
She was so eager to join events because her life was overwhelmingly busy, leaving her no room to do anything. With little attention from her family, she cherished these small things deeply.

She messaged me during the fireworks festival, not just by chance—it was because she wanted to go, but had no one to accompany her until Noa became available at the last minute.
As she spoke in front of me, I realized how much I had overlooked.

For someone who stood tall like her, we, those who came into her life later—
We were the kind of people who made her feel she mattered.

I didn’t feel she was guilty of lying.
Nor did she play the victim.
She had simply accepted it all...

After getting through these tear-filled moments together, we were finally able to breathe, just a little.

We had, more or less, resolved our issues. It might have been the most emotionally intense day of my life.

Even after leaving the room, silence clung to us.
But this time...

It wasn’t that stifling, thorny silence.
It was the kind of silence that suggested we could understand each other without speaking. Lyra stood beside me with her usual poise.
That familiar stance made me smile slowly.

Noa was waiting at the end of the hallway. She crossed her arms and gave a subtle smile, as if she had won some internal battle.

“All done talking?”
We nodded. Lyra still had her eyes on the ground, but the tension in her shoulders had eased—at least a little.

Meanwhile, I was still trying to stop the trembling in my knees.
Noa turned and looked out the window.

“Just so you know... some reporters have already shown up at the hospital entrance. They’ll probably try to sneak in soon. I suggest you leave now.”
Lyra flinched. So, we had been noticed.

“You should go home, Lyra,” Noa said in a serious, quiet tone.
I immediately spoke up:
“I’ll go with you.”

We made eye contact. She didn’t look away this time.
And in that small glance, she seemed to say, “Okay.”

Noa nodded briefly.
“Use the back exit. I’ll have the car pulled around. You’ll text Yuta the address anyway.”
Then she turned to me.

“Get her home. If needed... take her inside.”
She didn’t have to say it.
I was already planning on it.

They’d given Lyra only a mask to wear—just to hide her face—and we slipped out through the back.

The streets were empty.
Even our phones were silent.
We didn’t speak, just sat quietly.

There was a strange kind of drama hanging in the air. Not uncomfortable, but not entirely normal either.

Lyra had turned her head toward the window, quietly watching outside. I could faintly see the reflection of her eyes in the glass.

I kept reaching for my phone, then thinking, Not now, and pulling my hand back.
Even our driver remained completely silent. I wondered what her manager had said to him to make him so tense.

I stepped out of the car. We’d finally arrived, though it had been a short ride.

Right in front of me stood the building Lyra lived in.
A large, multi-story building with security and a parking lot.
It was... pretty luxurious.

Then I noticed Lyra standing beside me, looking at me.

“What’s wrong? Surprised?” she asked, her smile visible in the way her eyes narrowed.

“I’d say yes, but I think I’ve used up all my surprise for today,” I replied with a smile. It had been a day full of highs and lows, and I was utterly drained. But I couldn’t show her that.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be surprised either...”

She led the way in, passing through the security system. I followed.
We headed for the elevator. There were so many floors. How many apartments were in this building?

Lyra lived on the 12th floor. Pretty high up.
We arrived at her door.
No problems.
It was surprisingly smooth—almost suspiciously so.
She knocked. A voice from inside shouted, “Coming!” It was a girl’s voice.

“I guess I’ll head out then,” I said to Lyra. My part was done.
The door opened.

A little...

It was Lyra’s copy who opened the door.
She had adorable, sparkling green eyes, unbound hair, and was wearing homey pajamas.

“Welcome back, sis—who’s this?” Her bright, excited eyes suddenly filled with confusion and seriousness when she saw me.
She didn’t seem worried... Was she unaware of what had happened?

Who was I, anyway?
A friend?
A companion?
Something else?
What was I?

A moment of silence.
And the reason for that silence was Lyra.
Because just as I was about to leave, on the verge of collapsing,

Lyra suddenly grabbed my right hand.
Her fingers brushed mine,
Our palms touched.
Her voice was calm and clear:
“My savior.”

And then, both her sister and I responded the same way:
“What?”

40 – 2
Suddenly, I was inside.

Lyra hadn’t let go. She had pulled me in with her.
She calmly explained what had happened to her sister. But explaining everything made the little girl cry and cling tightly to her.

“It’s okay, Lina. I told you, it’s over.”

“But sis...”

“Besides, look—Yuta saved me.”

“Yuta?”

That’s when I realized I hadn’t officially met her younger sister yet. Everything had happened so fast—from entering the house to explaining things without even sitting down.

When she heard my name, she looked at me strangely. As if she already knew me.

“You mean the Yuta you always talk about—”

“Y-yes! Yes, the Y-Y-Yuta from when we all went out together!” Lyra suddenly interrupted, blushing and stuttering in panic.
 Why was she so embarrassed?

But Lina turned to me with a creepy little grin.

“So you’re the one who saved her at that concert, huh?” Her sinister smile remained.

“Yeah.”

“Did you know it was her?”
Two heads turned to me again. Come on, Lyra, didn’t I already answer this at the hospital? Why are you looking at me like that?

“I realized it just before the accident,” I said. Déjà vu.

“Hmm...” Lina stared at me before continuing. “We haven’t met before. I’m Lina, 11 years old. My sister talks about you a lot. Nice to meet you.”

“Lina!” Lyra raised her voice again with that same expression. She looked... adorable, honestly.

“I’m Yuta. 19 years old and... uh...” What else was there to say? “Nice to meet you, too.”

We chatted for a while longer. It was surreal—this little girl was so mature for her age, yet so attached to her sister.

The sun had almost set. We’d shared bittersweet laughs during our time together. Truthfully, I enjoyed talking with them.

A notification popped up on my phone.

Mom:
“We’re home. Heard there was an accident at the concert, what happened?”

Was my mom’s calmness normal or was she just unaware of how serious it was? And even though I said I’d go alone, she still used plural—like, we. If something had happened, would they have even noticed?

Me:
“All good. I’ll be back soon.”

Yeah... it was time to head home. Even if I didn’t want to. My emotions were too close to spilling over. I couldn’t keep pretending to be normal.

I stood up to excuse myself. They came to see me off.

“Sis, can you grab my hair tie from the bathroom?” Lina suddenly asked while I was putting on my shoes.

“You haven’t worn it all day. Why now?” Lyra looked at her in confusion.

“Just go get it! We have to send him off properly. Gotta look decent for the neighbors.” Lina whined like a brat.

“You little—Fine...” Lyra replied and walked toward the bathroom.

That’s when Lina nudged me with her elbow.

“Yuta-nii?”

“Wait—‘Nii’?” When did I become “big bro”?

“Next week is my sister’s birthday.”

“W-what?” I was not expecting that.

“You heard me. Now give me your number.”

“W-what—”

“Just give it!!!” She pulled out her phone and shoved it toward me. I hurriedly grabbed mine, and we exchanged contacts.

“Great, now we can talk about the plan for next week.” Her creepy smile returned. What was going on in that head of hers?

“Lina, what are you—”

Lyra returned just then, cutting me off awkwardly.
She looked at us with a blank expression. “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing, just chatting. Right?”

“Uh-huh, yup,” I said. This pressure... will it ever end?

“Right then, I’m off. Take care, big bro.” Lina waved and went inside.

“B-big bro?” Lyra stared after her, shocked. Then turned to me. “Sorry about my sister. She gets all excited the moment she finds a new playground.” She smiled slightly.

“No problem. She’s sweet.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Even if she’d asked for the hair tie just to get the door,
I turned around to open it.
“Well, see you—”

And then I was wrapped tightly from behind.
Her arms linked around my chest. Lyra pressed her head into my back.

“Thank you, Yuta... Thank you.” Her voice was soft but deep. I could feel all of her sincerity.
I froze. What should I do?
Would supporting someone in such a vulnerable state make them worse or more dependent?

And if it did?
I took a deep breath.
So what if it did?
I was already more attached to her than she could imagine.
I had no more reason to hold myself back.

I gently held her hands, pulled them slightly away, and turned around.
I hugged her tight, pressing her head to my chest.
Lyra didn’t resist. She didn’t pull away.

The scent of her shampoo, the softness of her hair... I felt it all.

I’d wanted to hug her for so long. To let her know I was there.

“No more thank yous between us. Neither of us did any of this, expecting something in return.”
But deep down, there was something I hoped for—to confess my love.

I just wasn’t ready yet.

I heard her quietly say, “Okay.”

I was closer to Lyra now.

I was finally beginning to know her.