Silent conffesions

The soft glow of the futuristic chandeliers cast dancing shadows across the polished floor. The murmurs of the crowd softened into an almost imperceptible hum, as if the universe itself had quieted to watch this moment. Akihiko’s eyes never left her—Aiko, standing timidly against the wall, framed by a towering arrangement of white and cobalt-blue roses. Her small form, seemingly fragile among the splendor of the hall, radiated a quiet beauty that made his chest tighten unexpectedly.

With deliberate calm, he navigated the crowd. Each step was measured, confident, yet gentle. Gasps and whispers followed him, girls from noble houses and princesses’ distant planets shifting their gaze in surprise or envy. But he noticed none of them. Only her. Only Aiko. Girl from Earh.

Mika, standing gracefully beside the floral display, inclined her head with the faintest smile, recognizing the moment without a word. Akihiko’s attention shifted fully back to Aiko.

“Aiko,” he said softly, each syllable a caress to her name, gentle as a breeze on a warm night.

Her eyes widened. Her heart stuttered violently. “Prince…?” Her voice trembled, barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate bubble of the moment. With a subtle motion, she gave a slight bow.

He smiled, the corners of his lips barely lifting, yet enough to make her breath catch. Extending his hand, he offered her the invitation that made her knees quake:

“I would be honored if you would dance with me.”

Aiko froze, heat rising to her cheeks. Her mind screamed in panic, yet a strange thrill whispered at the edges of her fear. “I… I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper, almost drowned by the soft strains of the orchestra.

Mika’s hand nudged her forward, firm yet encouraging. Aiko shivered—not from fear, but from the shock of the moment, the impossibility of it. Yet Akihiko remained patient, his gaze unwavering.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, as if reading her thoughts. “I will lead you.”

Aiko (in her thoughts): “Everyone is watching. I can’t step back. And… my heart doesn’t want to either.”

Her fingers brushed against his. The warmth radiating from his hand seared through her, making time itself seem to slow. Slowly, he guided her to the center of the dance floor. The crowd parted instinctively, like water flowing around two stones. In that moment, the hall no longer existed; it was just the two of them, wrapped in the soft melody of the orchestra, the rhythm syncing with the rapid beating of her heart.

Her breath caught as his hand settled lightly on her back. He led with grace and gentleness, and she followed, tentative at first, then more assured with each step. The music swelled around them, a song that seemed composed solely for their eyes to meet, their hands to touch, their worlds to collide quietly in harmony.

“Happy birthday, prince Akihiko…” she whispered, the words trembling on her lips as if they might escape before she was ready.

His thumb brushed her hand in return; a quiet reassurance meant only for her.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a hidden smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She began to relax slightly when she saw Naoru and Mika spinning lightly on the dance floor, almost too coordinated to be a coincidence.

Naoru, a spark in his eyes, gauged the moment and twirled with Mika so close to Akihiko and Aiko that secret glances could be exchanged. As he passed near them, with characteristic charm, he leaned in slightly and whispered:

“Prince Akihiko, forgive me, but I must warn you — if you stare too long into her eyes, you may lose the rhythm. Or your head.”

Aiko blushed lightly and looked away, while Akihiko simply glanced at Naoru.

“Naoru, make sure you don’t end up under Mika’s elbow.”

Mika (without hesitation):

“Thank you, prince. I think he already knows I have a good elbow. And that I always hit my target.”

Meanwhile, Mika and Naoru drifted slightly away from Akihiko and Aiko, their eyes following them restlessly.

Mika sighed softly and whispered to Naoru:

“Look at them, as if the world around them has stopped. What do you think Akihiko will do?”

Naoru nodded, but in his gaze was both concern and hope.

“Akihiko… His heart tells him one thing, but his mind fights. He’s torn between Aiko and his duty.”

The dance continued. They moved together, silent and flawless, as if they had been practicing all their lives. Around them, the noble guests and glittering crystal lights blurred into insignificance. Even Naoru and Mika, twirling nearby, became a comforting backdrop rather than a distraction. Naoru’s playful whisper made her giggle faintly, while Akihiko’s soft glance toward him only strengthened her sense of safety in this surreal moment.

Aiko’s mind was a storm of emotions. Why does he always calm me? Why does he look at me as if… I mean something more to him? she thought, her heart beating with a rhythm she could scarcely control. And in his gaze, she felt a silent acknowledgment, a shared understanding of the unspoken tension building between them.

The final note of the music faded, leaving a lingering echo in the golden light of the hall. Akihiko slowly withdrew his hand but did not let go of her gaze, soft and unreadable, carrying unspoken words in its depths.

“Would you like a drink? I can bring it for you,” he offered gently.

She nodded, voice barely a whisper. “Please… thank you.”

He gave a subtle nod before disappearing into the crowd. Alone at the edge of the floor, Aiko exhaled, pressing her hands to her chest. Her heart still raced, adrenaline mingling with something far more fragile—hope, fear, and a quiet longing she could barely understand.

Aiko (thinking):

“Why is he so kind? So… gentle. I mustn’t mistake it for something more. Yet…”

She swallowed tensely, then looked toward the crowd, where he had vanished.

Suddenly, she felt a presence beside her. Mika appeared, her eyes seeing everything, yet saying nothing.

Mika (softly, with her characteristic tone):

“You danced well, Aiko. First time?”

Aiko just nodded, almost voiceless.

“Thanks to him.”

Mika closed her eyes slightly, then added, as always, mysteriously:

“Yes… he knows how to lead. And you know how to feel. Few can follow like that.”

Aiko turned to her.

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing… really.”

(Though she believed it less and less.)

Mika shrugged slightly.

“If you say so.”

From across the hall, Akihiko walked steadily, two crystal glasses in hand. His posture was impeccable, his expression calm, but the softness in his eyes betrayed his thoughts—his gaze kept drifting toward the girl at the edge of the dance floor, the one who had captured not only his attention, but his heart.