(V4) Chapter 11: Between Two Broken Hearts (III)

Fourth day. Last day of field trip.

Unlike the previous three days, a multitude of inter school competitions ensued near the beachfront.

The sea screamed for classroom glory. Dodgeball at one front, volleyball at the other. The first years and second years also competed for sprinting and long jumps.

It was a clash of wills, clash of spirits.

But behind the scenes, beneath the clouds that turned grey, the air hung heavy at the hidden backyards of the resort.

It was as if a storm was looming, but it didn't feel like taking place soon.

Takamine stood beneath the shadows of the trees, unmoving, but her face spoke with patient impatience. Her body language was relaxed, but there was something sharp in her eyes that let others know this was not an average day at the beachside.

And a few moments pass by, and a figure emerges from the strands of tall bushes carrying the air of warmth that never seemed to shake even at the hardest moment.

Ayase.

But today, she looked hesitant.

Afraid of something.

"Good morning, Takamine-san." Ayase greeted, briefly bowing. "Sorry for the inconvenience I brought you."

"I thought we were supposed to be enemies." Takamine said, her voice low, tired. "But this seemed urgent, so I went."

There was silence between them before Takamine spoke with forced empathy, "So what is it all about?"

Ayase turned around to the woods. “Should we take a walk first?”

The ocean's distant roar faded behind them as Ayase and Takamine walked the narrow forest trail winding behind the beachfront resort. Leaves crunched quietly beneath their feet, and the sea breeze that had been playful before now felt cold against their skin.

Ayase led the way, her pink hair fluttering faintly, but she didn’t rush. Her pace was careful, almost as if she wished she could stretch this moment indefinitely. Takamine followed at her side, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of her light jacket, glancing sideways once or twice, studying the smaller girl with a frown she didn’t bother to hide.

The air was thick with something unspoken, like a thunderstorm about to break.

"You know, Takamine-san…" Ayase started softly, almost musing to herself, "When I first came to Komorebi High...I thought of joining the student council."

Takamine made a noncommittal sound, more focused on the unease threading Ayase’s voice than her words.

"I thought," Ayase continued, "If I worked hard enough, if I proved myself, I could make people treat me better. That I could help people and make my world a better place." She smiled faintly, but it was a smile built of cracks. "But it’s funny, isn’t it? No matter how hard you work, someone always pays the price."

Takamine’s steps slowed, but Ayase didn't notice—or pretended not to.

"I learned that decisions carry consequences that affect the entire outcome," Ayase said, voice trembling slightly, "It's about sacrifices...the ones you ask from others, and the ones you make yourself."

Her fingers brushed lightly against the tree trunks as they passed, almost as if anchoring herself.

Takamine’s frown deepened. There was a cold pit forming in her stomach now. The words were too heavy for a simple discussion about school politics.

"You keep talking about sacrifices," Takamine said sharply, stopping in the middle of the trail. Her voice cut through the cool forest air like a blade. "But you’re not talking about the student council at all, are you?"

Ayase stopped too, a few steps ahead. She stood frozen for a long moment, her back to Takamine, shoulders trembling ever so slightly.

"No," Ayase whispered. Her voice cracked on the word.

Takamine stepped closer, anger and fear both rising in her chest. "What is it then? What are you trying to imply?"

Slowly, Ayase turned to face her.

Her pink eyes shimmered—not with tears, but with a sadness too deep, too profound to be contained by something as simple as crying.

It took Ayase a moment to muster up the courage to speak. "I want to stop fighting. For him. With you. I was never supposed to in the first place."

Takamine's eyes widened slightly. "After going this far, you'll just give up?" She asked, incredulous.

Something flashed across Ayase's face, too fast for Takamine to assess what it might've been. There was guilt, perhaps. Fear?

"Can I tell you a story?" Ayase asked, almost timidly. "Just once. It might help you understand."

"About him?"

"About both of us."

“Then start talking.”

Ayase started slowly. “We first met at an alley, when Haru-san rescued me from a cruel flower shop owner. He was like a knight, even protecting me from harm. He was the first to give me a share of food, to scold me for being too giving, to buy me my favorite parfaits, a set of clothes, and even transforming his apartment to something I would call my own. All of those years I've been searching for something that can see me beyond what I'm made to be, he was the first. He treated me like a little sister..."

She paused, her eyes glazed over, lost deep inside her memories.

"He treated me like a human."

"But I was stupid to know that his care was unconditional," she continued. "Guilt took over me, and I really wanted to repay him for his kindness."

"Is that where he saved you again?" Takamine questioned.

"Yes, and it cost him the last penny. But above all of that, he worked harder just so he can't stop providing. He cares too deeply, and yet he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be cared for."

At this point, Takamine understood why Haru hadn't looked at her the same way before. Maybe it was shifting priorities, maybe it was the pain of getting rejected. It all made sense.

And before him stood a bruised girl with nowhere to go, wanting to save her than to save himself.

Takamine felt a pang of guilt inside her, and perhaps she’s too involved in this sequence of events. If she hadn’t rejected Haru, it wouldn’t have led to this situation. Ayase might not be able to be in the place she is standing in right now.

And even though rejections meant harm, Haru instead changed for the better.

It was a turning point.

The tears welled beneath Ayase's eyes, but she kept smiling.

“And I loved him.”

That made Shizuku swallow a lump. Because in Ayase's words, there was something that she was completely undeserving of.

“I didn’t know when it started. Maybe when he yelled at me for trying to talk with him about his past. Maybe when he laughed at me when I couldn't switch TV channels. Maybe the way he called me a dork when I cried watching horror. Or when he stayed awake all night just so I wouldn’t be alone. Whenever I imagine things, it always involves Haru-san."

Ayase wiped her cheek.

“But I’m not meant to stay.”

“Why?” Takamine asked, voice barely audible.

Ayase turned to her, and her voice wavered, and her lips curved into a bittersweet smile.

“Because…I don’t want him to carry my ghost when I’m gone.”

The wind froze. And so did Takamine.

“What are you saying?” Her voice cracked slightly.

"I have to let go. Not because I don't want to press him further to figure his feelings out but because I don't have much time left."

Takamine’s gaze faltered, the first crack in her perfect composure showing in the way her fingers tightened against her blouse.

“Are you sick? Is it something curable? Tell me—I have the money, the contacts, I can—”

"No, Takamine-san. It's...It's not like that." Her words were soft, almost apologetic. "I'm at Komorebi High School because he forged my own documents and enrolled me there illegally. I was never supposed to, but he's allowing me to live a life, to live like a human."

"Live like a human?" Takamine repeated. “You’re confusing me, Ayase.”

"I'm a Sentinel, Takamine-san."

Takamine stepped backward, her face breaking despite her usual composure. “You’re…you’re lying.”

Ayase gently reached up to the neckline of her blouse and pulled it slightly aside—not in shame, not in hesitation, but with quiet resolve. She then placed a trembling hand, and guided it to the space just between her collarbones, at the center of her chest.

Takamine's eyes widened.

A subtle click echoed.

And then—like machinery responding to a code—the skin beneath her touch opened in a small, precise line. A compartment, seamlessly integrated into her body, unfolded like a mechanical bloom.

Without blood. Without pain.

Takamine knew what Sentinel batteries look like. But in Ayase, it was completely different. It was the first time she saw something like that.

Behind something that looked like an impenetrable glass, there was a heart. It looked like a real one. But there was blue light pulsing from it, slow and steady.

In a flick of a hand, the chamber closed, and Ayase tied her blouse.

Takamine’s lips parted. But no words came.

"This is the first time I really showed anyone what my heart looks like." Ayase softly muttered.

“You're not just a LUNA, are you?”

“I can’t say to myself that I’m AURA too.”

Ayase’s shoulders slumped.

“Yet I wanted to be human. I tried to be. I laughed with my friends, argued with them, and cried with Haru-san. But it’s all catching up now. Even if I try to preserve everything, every emotion, I might not be able to make it next year. Everything hurts. Every smile. Every memory. Everything I feel for him…hurts. But sometimes…loving someone means knowing when to let go."

"D-does he know?"

"He does."

Shizuku’s throat tightened. "Then why—why smile so much? Why pretend? That's killing you! That's poison!"

Her hand reached up to touch her chest, where her heart should be. “Because…I wanted to fall in love. Just once. Even if it would kill me. I’ve loved him for longer than I should’ve. Maybe longer than I was even allowed to."

A single tear fell from Takamine’s cheek. She didn’t even notice.

“I’m sorry,” Ayase continued, eyes now turning to the sky. “I tried to live normally. Tried to steal pieces of happiness. To hold onto love, even though I wasn’t built to keep it. Yet, I don't regret it.”

Then, Ayase stepped closer, reaching out. She gently took Takamine’s hand.

"You’re strong, Takamine-san. Stronger than me. And Haru-san…he’ll need that. After."

“So what? You were going to just…disappear, weren’t you?” Takamine said, a little sharp. “Smile through the pain, and vanish like smoke. Let Haru cry, let all of us wonder what happened. Were you really going to leave like that?”

Ayase closed her eyes.

“…I thought it would be easier. For everyone.”

“Easier?” Takamine snapped, the wind catching her words. “For everyone? Or for you?”

Ayase didn’t respond.

The girl before her took a step forward, voice cracking despite her usual composure.

“You think you’re doing us a favor by carrying this all alone? By giving us your smile and nothing else? I’m not asking you to be strong, Ayase. I’m asking you to be real.”

Silence.

Then Ayase finally blinked.

There was no smile on her face now—only tired eyes rimmed red, the faint shimmer of unshed tears.

“Takamine-san,” she whispered, “I’m scared...”

Takamine exhaled sharply, as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

Ayase’s voice broke as she continued, “Every day, I wake up wondering if today will be the day my body finally gives out. I laugh with everyone. I chase moments. I collect memories like seashells, because I don’t know how many I have left. I want to fight. I want to live. I want to love freely. But time…” She clenched her fists, “…time is a thief.”

Takamine’s breath caught. “Are you asking me to—”

"I'm not asking you to fall in love with him. I know you already have." Ayase smiled softly, eyes shimmering. "I'm asking you not to run this time."

"But aren't you the one running all along?" she retorted, but the words didn't bite as much as her tone.

"Maybe," Ayase admitted. "But this…this isn’t running away. This is taking action."

She squeezed Takamine’s hand, her own trembling more now.

“He’ll pretend he’s fine. He’ll tell everyone he’s okay. But you’ll see it. The way he'll stop when he walks, looking at the horizon. The way he will look for me in the crowds. The way he’ll stand in the kitchen and forget what he was cooking. Maybe his favorite omurice, or miso soup. The taste of strawberry parfaits, or maybe my clothes. Maybe me.”

A tear slipped down Ayase's cheek.

“And you’ll see how broken he’ll be when he hears a voice that sounds like mine, or passes by my favorite park. He’ll remember things no one else would. Because he surely cared for me like that. So take care of him for me. Even if he hates you. Even if he pushes you away. Love him harder.”

Takamine stood there, stunned, her heart trembling with a thousand words unsaid.

Ayase gave one last smile—bright, beautiful, and tinged with finality.

“Make him laugh again. Make him love again. And when he cries—don’t look away.”

The wind picked up, swirling Ayase’s pink hair around her face like a halo.

“I just want him to be okay, Takamine-san. Because I love him so much.”

They stood there, the two of them, bound not by rivalry now—but by something heavier. Shared grief. Love. And the weight of goodbye that had not yet come, but already felt near.

“But I don’t want him to waste his tears on me. I want him to keep smiling. I want him to live a life without regrets.”

Takamine nodded slowly.

“I know,” she said. “And I will.”

Ayase looked up, startled.

“I’ll take care of him,” Takamine whispered. “I’ll carry your love with mine. I’ll make sure he smiles again. Laughs again. Loves again. Even if it’s me he ends up choosing—I’ll make him remember you. But—”

Takamine trailed off, and parted Ayase's disheveled hair sideways.

“...Love him when he chooses you.”

Ayase burst into sobs, crumbling into Takamine’s arms. "Thank you so much, Takamine-san."

And for the first time, Takamine let her tears fall too.

They stood like that, two girls in a forest next to the sea, holding each other against the dying light of the world.

“I hated you,” she choked. “I hated how much he looked at you. How he smiled for you and not for me. But you—you still smiled. You still loved him knowing you wouldn’t stay.”

Ayase knelt with her, her hand resting on Takamine’s trembling ones.

“You’re the only one I trust with him,” she said softly. “When I’m gone…promise me.”

Takamine looked up, face soaked with tears.

“I don’t want to win like this,” she whispered. “Not like this.”

“I know,” Ayase smiled faintly, and for once—it looked tired. Genuinely tired. “But someone has to hold him when I can’t anymore.”

The sky above began to glow with late afternoon gold. The waves crashed far below. A breeze passed through, soft and solemn.

Ayase smiled through her tears, and whispered:

“Please...don’t let him forget me.”

Takamine nodded, her voice a whisper in the wind.

“I promise.”

Ayase turned her face to the sun one last time, as if trying to memorize it.

And Takamine knew, deep down, that she was already becoming a memory.

In the vast sea of happiness and gloom laid a promise that would keep Haru's heart alive.