The first encounter

The teleportation chamber was quiet now. Only the faint hum of the teleportation core pulsed in the background, steady like a heartbeat. On the soft platform lay the girl—motionless, her body turned slightly to the side. Her hood still covered her face, the fabric casting a shadow that hid her features. She looked as though she were simply asleep.

Akihiko’s footsteps echoed lightly against the floor as he approached. He paused, unsure of why this stranger, this person—saved purely on instinct—drew him so strongly. He hadn’t thought. He hadn’t planned. And now… here she was.

He knelt beside her, his hand hovering cautiously above her as he gently turned her onto her back, careful not to hurt her. The hood slipped down, revealing what the shadows had hidden.

A strand of reddish-golden hair fell across her cheek, glowing faintly under the bluish light of the chamber.

Akihiko froze. His breath caught.

Her face—delicate, serene, her lashes resting like soft wings, lips parting ever so slightly with each breath. A stranger. A girl. From another world. And yet… so very human.

For several heartbeats, he did not move. Only now did the weight of his decision settle on him. This was no longer a simple academy assignment. She had a life, memories, a family. She hadn’t asked to be saved—and even less to be taken away.

“Kohana,” Akihiko said quietly to his StarCom on left hand, still looking at girl’s face.

“Yes?” the calm voice of his Kohana answered.

“Prepare an empty chamber. Warm. Quiet. And… summon Miraja Takane. Immediately.”

“Understood. Preparing room 7-A. Med-Tech specialist Miraja Takane has been notified.”

Akihiko bent lower, checking her breathing—shallow, but steady. He slid one arm under her and carefully lifted her. She was lighter than he expected. The warmth he felt wasn’t from her touch but from the responsibility pressing down on him. He didn’t know who she was. He didn’t know why it had to be him. But he knew this: leaving her there to die would have been unforgivable.

The teleportation chamber doors opened with a soft hiss. As he stepped out, carrying her in his arms, the hall lit up. Every measured step trembled faintly inside him, though his expression stayed calm. Somehow the palace itself seemed to sense the moment—lights flickering awake as though acknowledging the choice he had made.

He laid her gently on the bed of the prepared chamber, adjusting the blanket over her waist. For a moment, he observed her. His eyes searched her face as if he might glimpse her thoughts in her dreams. A faint tightening in his chest made his heart skip—but discipline pulled him back to stillness.

The doors slid open again. Miraja Takane entered: tall, poised, silver coat swaying, her sharp violet eyes already assessing. Akihiko stepped aside, letting her work. Outside in the corridor, his hands slipped into his pockets as he walked slowly, lights casting pale light across his face. His mind churned—responsibility, unease, questions he could not yet name.

Then his StarCom on his wrist pulsed. A hologram shimmered into being—his father, king Kaito Miyahara. His posture was straight, gaze steady. Not angry. Concerned.

“Can you explain what happened?” the king asked.

“And why you used the teleportation system without authorization—on an unregistered planet?”

Akihiko inhaled deeply, words heavy in his throat.

“Father… I know I broke protocol. But if I hadn’t acted, life would be lost. I couldn’t just stand by.”

Silence followed. Then his father said:

“I understand. But your choice carries consequences. We must resolve this—quickly.”

Akihiko’s gaze drifted toward the door of Aiko’s chamber. His voice softened, betraying the unease beneath his composure.

“I promise. I’ll handle it.”

King Kaito regarded him a moment longer before nodding. “Very well. But do not delay.” The hologram faded.

Akihiko stood motionless in the quiet corridor. Duty pressed down heavy, but beneath it something fragile stirred—an unfamiliar tenderness. He lowered his eyes.

“First, I want to know if she is okay.”

He returned to the chamber. Miraja stepped away from Aiko, arms folded.

“She’s stable,” she reported evenly. “Her breathing and heartbeat are normal. She’ll wake when her body is ready. Adjusting to our atmosphere will take time. I gave her a mild mixture to ease the transition—nothing harmful. Expect dizziness, maybe brief unconsciousness.”

Akihiko’s gaze softened on the girl’s peaceful face.

“When will she wake?” he asked, almost whispering.

“Hard to say. A few hours, perhaps. What she needs most now is rest.”

Miraja studied Akihiko’s expression, then asked gently:

“Are you okay?”

Akihiko turned away for a moment to hide a subtle trembling, then looked back at Aiko.

“I’m not sure. I just… I had to save her. Even though I know I broke the rules.”

Miraja adding gently:

“Sometimes, the right choice means breaking rules. Take care of her. She will be okay.”

With a faint smile, she left him alone.

Akihiko sat by the bedside, elbows resting on his knees. Relief and unease tangled together inside him. Minutes passed, broken only by the quiet hum of the displays.

Then—movement.

Aiko’s body shifted. Eyelids fluttered open. She blinked into the strange light, confusion shadowing on her face.

Akihiko rose, careful not to startle her. “Easy… it’s all right. Slowly… You have to save your energy.”

Her lips trembled. “Where… am I?” she whispered.

“In a place where you don’t need to worry,” he replied softly. “You’re safe here.”

Their eyes locked. She searched him, as if weighing whether his voice was truth.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Akihiko,” he said. “And you…?”

Her hesitation lingered, then she whispered: “Aiko.”

Her name hung in the air. Akihiko repeated it softly, something inside him tightening with quiet certainty.

“Rest now, Aiko,” he spoke softly. “Your body needs to recover.”

Her eyes closed again, surrendering to sleep. The hologram displays glowed steady—heartbeat, oxygen, all stable.

Akihiko turned toward the AI hologram. “Aura.”

“I am here,” came the gentle reply.

“Notify me immediately of any change. If she wakes, if anything happens.”

“Confirmed. Monitoring in real time.”

Akihiko looked at Aiko one last time. “Rest… I’ll be back,” he whispered.

And as he stepped out into the corridor, one thought lingered above all others—

His father was waiting.