Chapter 11-"The Day the Sky darkened"

Morning came with pale sunlight filtering through the shoji doors. It was the day after we played together It would've been too dangerous for Himari to go alone to the hospital so Akaru Insisted that she could Stay overnight 

He opened his eyes slowly, his neck stiff from sleeping against the wall. For a moment, he forgot where he was — then the quiet, steady breathing nearby reminded him.

Himari.

She was still asleep on the futon, her face peaceful, though paler than yesterday.

He stood, stretched, and was about to step out to prepare breakfast when her voice stopped him.

“…Good morning.”

He turned. She was awake, propped up slightly on her elbow, smiling faintly.

“You should’ve woken me,” she said.

“I didn’t want to,” he replied. “You needed rest.”

She laughed softly, then coughed — a dry, shallow sound. He watched her carefully.

“…Are you feeling okay?”

She nodded quickly, brushing off the concern. “Better than I look. Besides…” She swung her legs over the side of the futon, grabbing her cane. “…We have a town to explore, remember?”

Akaru hesitated but didn’t argue.

The streets of the town bustled with quiet life — vendors setting up stalls, children chasing each other, old fishermen chatting by the harbor.

But as they walked together — Himari leaning gently on her cane, Akaru at her side — something else became clear:

Everyone knew her.

Old shopkeepers smiled warmly and waved. A mother pulling her child along paused to greet her. Even the stoic postman tipped his hat.

“You’re popular here,” Akaru remarked.

Himari smiled, though her grip tightened slightly on the cane. “It’s a small town. When someone’s in and out of the hospital all the time, people notice. And they’re kind. That’s why I love it here.”

They passed a small antique shop. An old woman stood outside, struggling to stack boxes on a display table.

Without hesitation, Himari stepped forward. “Mrs. Hoshino, do you need help?”

“Oh dear, Himari-chan… I shouldn’t trouble you…” the woman began.

Akaru was already moving, lifting the heavier boxes. Himari followed, helping arrange the smaller items carefully.

They worked for a few quiet minutes — and for a moment, it felt normal.

Simple. Peaceful.

Then — it happened.

Himari froze mid-movement, her hand trembling. Her cane clattered to the ground.

A sharp, ragged cough tore from her throat — and with it, a splash of red on her sleeve.

“Himari—!” Akaru rushed to her side, but she staggered, clutching her chest as another violent cough wracked her body.

The old woman gasped. Passersby turned.

Akaru caught her just before she collapsed entirely, her body limp and cold in his arms.

“Himari, stay with me!” he pleaded, voice shaking.

Her eyes fluttered half-open, glazed with pain. A weak smile tugged at her lips.

“…Sorry… I guess I overdid it…”

Then her eyes closed.

“Someone call a doctor!” Akaru shouted.

But in that moment — holding her frail body, stained with blood — a terrifying realization struck him:

No matter how bright her smile was,

no matter how strong her spirit seemed 

time was running out.