Awakening light

Silence fell, heavy and suffocating.

King Kaito’s eyes, sharp yet softened by worry, met Miraja’s. “Can we… go see him for a moment?” he asked, his voice calm, but layered with unspoken anxiety.

Miraja gave a slight nod, before stepping aside.

While the royal family was with Akihiko, Aiko sat alone, trapped in the storm of her own thoughts. The words Miraya had spoken — that Akihiko’s condition was truly serious — tore at her heart, each one echoing like a cruel whisper she couldn’t silence. The more she tried to stay calm, the more the fear gnawed at her. She wanted to see him — needed to see him.

At last, the doors opened and the royal family emerged. Aiko’s chest tightened; her chance was now. She rose quickly to her feet, swallowed hard, her throat dry. The weight of fear and guilt pressed against her chest. She glanced at the royal family, then back at the Miraja, and whispered, almost pleadingly:

“Please… may I see prince Akihiko? Just for a moment?”

Queen Hanae’s gaze softened, a mixture of maternal concern and empathy shining through. “Akihiko is in critical condition,” she began gently, “but… I think he would want you here. He would find comfort knowing you’re by his side.”

Aiko nodded, barely able to speak, and stepped forward. The doors of the clinic closed behind her, sealing her in with him.

The room was quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic beeping of the holographic monitors. Aiko’s heart thudded painfully in her chest as she watched Akihiko lie pale and still on the bed, the color drained from his features.

She sank into the chair beside him, her hands trembling as she took his. His skin was cool beneath her fingertips. She whispered, voice breaking, but steady in its intent:

“You have to fight Akihiko. I must not lose you… Even though we come from different worlds, I feel something for you that could move mountains.”

A lump formed in her throat, tears threatening to spill. She closed her eye, pressed her lips together, forcing herself to continue:

“I… I love you. I don’t know if you’ll ever feel the same… but it doesn’t matter. Right now, all that matters is that you wake up. The danger must pass. The future… it’s waiting for you. Your family, your friends, your planet… they need you.”

Her grip on his hand tightened, desperate and fragile. A soft, reddish light began to emanate from her chest, subtle at first, almost like a heartbeat, then slowly spreading outward. The glow enveloped both her and Akihiko, gentle and warm, carrying an unspoken wish for life, for survival.

For a moment, time seemed to pause. The light rippled as if breathing, infused with her silent, unwavering hope.

Suddenly, the doors opened, and Naoru stepped inside, snapping Aiko back to reality. The warmth and glow faded, leaving her feeling slightly empty, yet still hopeful. Naoru didn’t comment on the strange light, he thought it was just his immagination; he simply placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, silently conveying strength and solidarity.

Miraja entered the room again, leaned closer to the monitors, her eyes widening slightly. “Something… something is different this time,” she murmured. “His body… it’s responding faster than expected. The poison seems… neutralized. Somehow.”

Aiko stared, astonished, hope blossoming anew. She had no conscious awareness of what had just happened.

“Akihiko will be strong again,” Miraja continued, her tone gentle but authoritative. “But he must rest… recover gradually.”

Akihiko’s hand twitched. Aiko’s eyes widened as tears began to fall freely. “He’ll be okay,” she whispered, relief and joy mingling in her voice.

Almost immediately, the clinic doors swung open, and the royal family poured in. King Kaito, queen Hanae, and young Ren rushed to his side. Queen Hanae’s arms wrapped around her son in a protective, tender embrace, as if trying to transfer her strength to him. The king smiled softly, supporting his family, while Ren shyly, yet excitedly, placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Akihiko’s eyes fluttered open, less pale than before, still weak, but alive.

“Welcome back, brother,” Ren whispered, his voice filled with awe and relief.

Akihiko managed a faint smile, weak but genuine. “I would never leave you… You still have so much to learn,” he said gently.

Aiko wiped the tears from her cheeks, her own smile tentative but full of hope. Her heart felt lighter than it had in days, a spark of warmth replacing the lingering dread.

King Kaito’s embrace enveloped Akihiko, a grounding force of love and reassurance. “You’ll never frighten us like that again, my son,” he said firmly, voice thick with emotion.

Akihiko returned the embrace, weaker than usual, but present. He was alive—and that was all that mattered for now.

Aiko stepped back respectfully, eyes never leaving him, filled with quiet reverence and gratitude. When Akihiko turned toward her, his gaze was intense, almost piercing. A shiver ran through her, her heart beating wildly.

“Aiko…” he called softly, a gentle warmth in his voice. “See? You did it… because I believed in you.”

She smiled through her tears, her heart soaring with relief and quiet triumph.

Akihiko was slowly recovering at the palace, each shallow breath a fragile reminder of his near escape from death. Every heartbeat was a small victory, a step closer to regaining his strength and will.

Aiko watched from a distance; her emotions tangled between relief and guilt. She had returned him to life, yet the memory of what had almost been lost weighed heavily on her. Soon, she knew, she would have to face him properly—look into his eyes and see what he truly thought of her actions.

A quiet, almost sacred calm settled over the palace. Outside, the late-summer gardens shimmered under the soft afternoon sun, the air carrying the sweet, comforting scent of blooming flowers. Aiko wandered along the paved paths with Mika, hands clasped in front of her, lost in her own thoughts. Every few steps, her gaze involuntarily drifted toward the balcony on the second floor, where Akihiko occasionally stood, watching the courtyard. But each time she tried to look, she quickly averted her eyes, as if fearing the weight of his gaze.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Mika said gently, offering a small bouquet of flowers she had picked herself. “Perhaps these will brighten your mood, even just a little.”

Aiko managed a faint smile. “They… help. Thank you, Mika.”

They walked side by side in comfortable silence, the occasional rustle of leaves and distant birdsong filling the air. Mika’s eyes held a spark of understanding, but she said nothing. Some truths, she knew, could only be faced in time.

Ren appeared along the garden path, his youthful energy breaking through the quiet. “If you’re free, maybe you could help me pick flowers for the celebration,” he suggested with a grin. Aiko agreed, finding a small sense of purpose in tending to the vibrant blossoms. For now, it was enough to simply act—to do something tangible while her heart wrestled with fear and hope.

From his chamber, Akihiko watched the scene unfold through an open window. The sight of Ren, Aiko, and Mika laughing at some small joke tugged at his heart. A faint smile brushed his lips, only to vanish moments later. She hadn’t come to see him directly in weeks.

“She’s avoiding me,” he whispered, the unease gnawing at him.

A few days passed. In the hallway, he caught sight of her and called out, “Aiko!”

For a heartbeat, she froze at the sound of his voice. Then, steeling herself against the tide of guilt and fear, she darted into a side corridor, hiding from the gaze she could not yet bear to meet.

The next day, the training hall was cold, silent except for the rhythm of metal cutting through the air. Akihiko moved with precision, each swing and parry a testament to his regained strength. He was thinking about how Aiko kept avoiding him, when suddenly a memory intruded, soft and impossible to ignore—the warmth, the whisper in the darkness when he had been unconscious:

“Akihiko… I love you.”

He froze mid-strike, heart hammering. It had not been a dream. Her words lingered in his mind, a fragile thread of light in the shadow of everything he had endured. His grip on the sword slackened unconsciously.

In the mirror before him, a faint glow appeared on his neck—a mark of his royal family, long thought dormant, unseen since his childhood.

“Impossible…” he breathed, a mix of awe and disbelief coloring his tone.

Setting the sword down, he studied the reflection. The energy was subtle but undeniable, responding to the thought of her. Closing his eyes, he focused, and the glow slowly faded, vanishing as if it had never existed.

He swore silently to himself: no one could discover this—not yet. This awakening was a secret he alone would understand, control, and master.

That evening, after training, Akihiko wandered the quiet corridors of the palace. Crystal floating lights bathed the hallways in a soft glow, shadows stretching long against polished floors. Outside, the wind from the mountains whispered through the night.

Her confession replayed in his mind.

“Akihiko… I love you.”

He didn’t push the memory away. Each thought of her brought the warmth he could not deny, a subtle, persistent glow in his chest. Passing a large window, he paused. Moonlight fell across his figure, and once more, the faint, almost ethereal shimmer appeared—barely visible, yet present. Reflexively, he withdrew his hand, waiting for it to dissipate.

The next day, it returned again—in the library this time, triggered by a thought, a lingering feeling of her. Each pulse, each tingling sensation reminded him that the energy wasn’t random. It was her doing, reaching through the bond she had unknowingly forged.

Akihiko quickly learned to control it, hiding it from prying eyes. Too many questions would arise if anyone noticed. At night, in the privacy of his chamber, he practiced focusing the energy, drawing it inward, harnessing its subtle power without allowing distraction.

Deep within, he knew it had not returned on its own. It had awakened because of her.

And that realization brought with it a renewed resolve: no matter what, he would protect her. More fiercely, more wholly, than he had ever promised before.