Shadows of the storm

Waiting chamber, Outside the Medical chamber

The patter of rain outside became a steady rhythm, a drumbeat echoing the tension in the waiting chamber. Akihiko sat slouched in a chair, fingers drumming against his knee, his gaze fixed on the polished floor but seeing nothing. Naoru leaned against the wall, silent, and Mika adjusted the cuff of her uniform, trying to steady herself.

Akihiko’s voice broke the silence, low and taut:

"Nothing should have happened to her under my watch."

Naoru’s eyes softened, his hand resting lightly on Akihiko’s shoulder, a grounding presence.

"You couldn’t have predicted this. None of us could."

Mika finally spoke, her voice calm but carrying urgency:

"Miraja is the best there is. Aiko is in capable hands. That’s all we can do right now—trust them."

The silence returned, heavy and suffocating, punctuated only by the distant rumble of thunder. Akihiko exhaled slowly, but the tension in his jaw remained. Naoru watched him, reading the storm in his eyes, and spoke again:

"Everything will be alright, Akihiko. Believe me."

Akihiko’s chest rose and fell, a slow, uneven rhythm, before he nodded faintly.

"Thank you, Naoru… for trying to comfort me."

The doors opened. Miraja emerged, her expression a careful balance of concern and composure.

"Aiko is weak, but stable," she reported, her voice crisp.

"Her vitals have settled. It will take a few days for her body to recover fully. In the meantime, she needs rest, medication, and monitoring. The most important thing is to avoid additional stress."

Akihiko exhaled, his hand rising as if to send Aiko a silent message through the walls, through the storm, through everything.

"Thank you, Miraja," he whispered.

Training hall, Palace of Akarihoshi

Akihiko had returned to the training hall, alone at first, and now he moved like a man possessed. Each swing of his sword was sharp, precise, but there was no grace—only anger, guilt, and relentless self-punishment. His breath came in ragged bursts, muscles straining against the tension he could not release.

Naoru stepped forward cautiously, his own sword in hand, a silent barrier between Akihiko and destruction.

"Akihiko, stop. This isn’t you," he said calmly, trying to break through.

Akihiko ignored him, spinning and striking, each movement more violent than the last.

"What have I done?!" he shouted, almost screaming. "Aiko was in danger because of me! Because of me!"

Naoru’s eyes softened but remained firm. He raised his sword in a defensive stance, prepared to intervene.

"I’m here to talk, not fight. Don’t punish yourself like this."

Akihiko’s strikes faltered slightly, anger giving way to exhaustion and guilt. In one swift, controlled move, Naoru brought him down to the floor. Akihiko hit the ground hard, gasping, eyes wild, chest heaving.

Naoru crouched beside him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Aiko is okay. She will recover. You didn’t fail her."

Akihiko stared at the floor, a torrent of emotions swirling—relief, guilt, shame, love, and fear.

"I hid who I am from her," he whispered. "I wanted her to see me as… ordinary. Someone she could trust without… obligations, without power… without… this life."

Naoru’s grip tightened slightly, reassuring but steady.

"You didn’t lie."

Akihiko inhaled deeply, the storm inside him quieting. He slowly rose, voice heavy, almost broken:

"I… I need time. Alone."

Naoru’s eyes, full of understanding, met his.

"Take it. We’ll be here when you’re ready."

Akihiko nodded, turning away. The weight of his duty pressed upon him, but Naoru’s presence anchored him, giving him permission to breathe.

Medical chamber

Aiko’s eyes fluttered open. The chamber was hazy with dim light filtering through the curtains. Mika sat beside her, a gentle, reassuring presence, offering a soft smile.

"You’re awake," Mika said, her tone light but warm. "How are you feeling?"

Aiko blinked, disoriented, voice barely a whisper.

"Where…? What happened?"

Mika squeezed her hand, grounding her.

"You’re okay. Rest a bit more. Everything’s fine."

Slowly, fragments of memory returned. Images of lightning, rain, running, and chaos flashed in Aiko’s mind. Her lips parted, voice trembling:

"I ran… in the storm… I… lightning… it struck…"

Mika nodded, steady and calm.

"Yes. We found you. It was close, but you’re safe now."

Aiko’s gaze drifted to the rain outside, gray and relentless. She drew in a shuddering breath, feeling the residual fear and adrenaline of the storm, but also a fragile sense of safety.

Several days later – Palace gardens

Aiko walked slowly, guided by Mika’s gentle hand. Each step was cautious, muscles still regaining strength. The gardens were alive with the scents of fresh blooms and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Sunlight struggled through lingering clouds, painting the terrace in warm, gentle hues.

"Take your time," Mika said, voice tender. "There’s no need to rush."

Aiko inhaled deeply, letting the air fill her lungs.

"Thank you, Mika," she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips. "This… this is exactly what I needed. Peace."

Akihiko, sweat still clinging to his skin from training, paused at the balcony. His eyes fell upon Aiko and Mika in the garden below. A chill ran through him, not from the wind, but from the realization that everything had changed.

Duty, fear, guilt, and unspoken feelings churned within him. He knew he had to speak with her, to face her, but not yet—not until she was ready. For now, he would watch and wait, silently guarding from afar.

Alone again, in her chamber Aiko sat on the edge of her bed, fingers playing absently with the star-shaped pendant she always carried. Each time she recalled Akihiko’s revelation, her chest tightened. Anger, confusion, and fear mixed with the warmth of moments she had shared with him before the truth.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she whispered, voice fragile. "Why invite me into your world… if I was never supposed to fully see it?"

Outside, the palace gardens swayed gently in the breeze, sunlight glimmering off dew-soaked petals. Inside, Aiko’s heart wrestled with truths and unspoken feelings—fear of being part of a world she didn’t yet understand, and the undeniable connection she could not deny.

Her eyes lingered on the pendant. "Maybe… I just need time. Time to understand… everything."