The Right Choice

Shinya stood in the middle of the street, motionless before Hana. The car hung in the air, just inches from her, the shards of time suspended like broken glass in a soundless void. The moment before tragedy hovered, unmoving. And within it, Shinya remained, drained.

The unthinkable had been done.

He remained between the past and what had yet to come. A void between now and fate. A blank space where only silence and the flood of emotions pouring from his mind existed, without rest, without resolution.

Step by step, he moved toward Hana, each step accompanied by a sharp ache in his chest. A growing pressure, as if everything inside him were about to implode.

Brushing a hand across her soft face, he admired the golden strands of her hair. So close… and yet, unreachable.

He thought about what had brought him here, about what he could have done differently, if anything could have been done at all. Even without knowing exactly what he sought, he kept moving, as if begging for more time with her. He wasn’t ready.

In his mind, he cursed how cruel fate could be. He had spent so long trying to understand, trying to fill the void inside him… and when he finally found it, fate came to take the one thing he held most dear.

“I can’t do it, Hana,” he whispered, knowing full well she couldn’t hear him in that frozen instant. “I can’t let you go.”

His whole body trembled. The burden of countless years, the blind repetition of his role, all of it now collided with what he had discovered beside her.

He knelt and touched her hand, hanging mid-motion, trying to shield herself. His eyes filled with raw, unbearable pain.

“Why you? Why now?” he whispered.

Behind him, a powerful energy stirred. A presence whispered through the quiet of that space beyond time.

Tsubasa appeared. Serious. Wrapped in an unbreakable aura, as if not even the inertia of that place could suppress his resolve.

“I felt it…” he said, voice calm but firm. “What are you doing?”

Shinya didn’t turn. He was still holding Hana’s hand.

“I don’t know… I just acted.”

Tsubasa stepped forward, taking in the scene: the suspended car, Hana on the brink of impact, Shinya kneeling at the heart of the chaos.

”Shinya... do you understand the risk this poses? You’re not just interfering with balance, you’re crossing into the domains of other gods. Space, time, fate... think carefully,” he said, almost pleading.

But it was as if his brother’s words didn’t reach him. The only thing that mattered was right there in front of him. Hana. And the only thing on his mind was finding a way to change this.

“You know, there are things beyond our reach. We can’t change them just because of what we feel.”

Shinya let out a bitter laugh.

“‘Because of what we feel.’ Ironic, coming from a god who refuses to feel,” Shinya said.

Tsubasa frowned.

“You’ve lost yourself among humans. You've forgotten your duty,” he said through clenched teeth. “This isn’t about us. It’s about keeping the world intact.”

“Protecting isn’t just about following rules,” Shinya shot back, rising to his feet. “I spent so much time trying to make sense of humans. Reading, observing... and none of it mattered until I met Hana. It was with her that I finally understood. What I was missing.”

Silence fell. Heavy.

Tsubasa stared at him for long seconds before speaking. “And you’re willing to risk everything for that?”

In Shinya’s mind, memories flashed: the pain of the souls he had guided, their regrets, the dreams left unfulfilled. Now he felt love. That brilliant, devastating force that arrives uninvited, that transforms, that gives life meaning.

He didn’t want to be like the doctor who regretted not having loved more. He wanted to love. But fate seemed determined to take it from him before he even had a chance.

Akari’s words now made perfect sense, as if she were there with him. Yes, he knew his duty. But what he felt was louder.

He wanted to see Hana’s smile again, make her breakfast, watch more dramas with her.

That love consumed him, so intense that nothing else seemed to matter. Just her. Just her happiness.

So many had suffered loss before his eyes. Deep down, he didn’t want to be one of them. And still, he was the god of death. The one capable of guiding others with dignity to the end. A role once fulfilled through understanding, and perhaps now, through compassion.

He remembered the souls who smiled in their final moments. Because they had lived for love. Because they accepted what they had lived, without regret.

Shinya looked at Hana again, picturing her smile. A smile he might never see again.

“I don’t know what to do, Tsubasa,” he said, turning to his brother. “I don’t want to let her go.”

Tsubasa stepped closer, noticing the tears in his brother’s eyes. He was uncomfortable too, as if something inside him—a silent doubt—was eating away.

“If it were Mayu here,” Shinya said. “What would you do? Would you go back to being an empty god?”

Tsubasa faltered, looking away.

“Mayu… I don’t know.”

“So you’d let her slip away too?”

Tsubasa stayed silent. Something inside him shifted, something he didn’t want to face.

“Maybe… maybe I’m afraid too,” he admitted, finally.

“Tell me, Tsubasa,” Shinya touched his chest, “how can you be so sure balance will be broken? What if this choice is exactly what restores it?”

The moment pierced through him. His thoughts boiled, leaving him more confused. And in that chaotic storm of questions, he wondered if there even was a right answer, if it was ever that simple.

What if, for some reason, he needed to act? To intervene? What if maintaining balance came from his refusal to accept this? His refusal to let Hana go?

He wasn’t sure. And that, more than anything, left him lost.

Tsubasa didn’t have the answer. He never had, really. He had only followed what was taught to him, never dared to question.

“You’re right, Shinya… we can’t know. Not on our own,” he sighed.

A crack of doubt opened within him.

What if Shinya was right?

What if he was trying to interfere in the very thing he swore to protect?

In the end, maybe his true role was simply to watch and hope balance would find its way naturally.

“I can’t decide for you. The consequences will come. And in the end… I just hope your choice is the right one.”

Shinya said nothing, turning his gaze back to Hana. Tears rolled slowly down his face.

He sat beside her, as if waiting for a sign. Something to tell him what to do.

As if, in that static universe, she could somehow guide him, tell him it would be okay.

His eyes wandered, searching for an answer in the physical world, since in his imagined one, nothing felt reachable.

And then, carelessly tossed near her bag, he saw her phone on the ground.

The screen flashed, showing nothing more than a lock screen, yet possibly, it was salvation.

A selfie. Hana smiling sweetly, flashing a peace sign while he slept on the couch in the background.

He remembered that day. How he’d gotten soaked like a fool, how she’d given him that genuine smile of thanks, how their shoulders brushed on the way home, how beautiful she was.

That night, he’d pretended to sleep, peaceful. And Hana, with hurried, awkward steps, had slipped into the living room just to take that picture.

He never understood why she did it. But now, it felt like a premeditated act, captured so he could choose.

Her voice returned to his mind.

I hate when it ends in tragedy…

Shinya closed his eyes, trying to put it all into his memory: her image, her laughter, the touch of her hands.

It was time to choose.

And this time, reason would not lead the way.

He leaned in closer, resting his forehead against hers.

“It’s not going to end like this,” he whispered.

The light around him began to expand.

And time, at last, was about to move again.