The choice that leaves the heart behind

The light had faded, and with it, Aiko had vanished. Silence fell over the teleportation chamber, thick, almost suffocating in its weight. Akihiko remained frozen, staring at the empty space where she had stood, the air still trembling from her presence.

Akihiko (whispering, voice cracked): “I will… never forget you. But you… you’ve already forgotten me.”

Each word fell painfully into the void. “You turned my world upside down, Aiko…” His chest ached, his heart rebelling against the command he himself had confirmed.

The teleportation system had done its job flawlessly. Along with it, every memory of Akarihoshi, the palace, Mika, Naoru… and him had been erased from her mind. He had ordered it himself—but the cost was heavier than he had ever imagined.

His legs gave way, and he sank to the floor. His hands slid across the cold stone, grasping for a presence that no longer existed. The silence pressed against him like a physical weight.

And then, a faint glimmer caught his eye.

Aiko’s necklace lay on the floor, delicate and familiar, slipping from her neck as though leaving a small, quiet trace behind. It felt warm in his hand, carrying a presence that should have been gone.

Akihiko (softly): “Now… she’s really gone.”

Yet in that single object, a fragment of hope remained. Perhaps in her dreams, or in some fleeting, subconscious feeling, she might sense something missing. Perhaps someday, some instinct would pull her back to the world she had forgotten.

He clenched the necklace, a vow forming in the depths of his soul.

“One day… if you feel that something is missing… if you come searching for answers… I will be waiting. With the necklace, with the truth… and with a heart that never stopped belonging to you.”

Slowly, he stood, the weight of grief pressing on him still. He tucked the necklace into the inner pocket of his coat, a secret he would carry alone, a promise untouched by time.

The royal hall awaited. Laughter and conversation spilled through the grand doors, but it all felt distant, hollow, like echoes from another world. Akihiko’s chest tightened as he stepped back into the realm of expectation and duty.

On the stage, he straightened his posture, letting a calm exterior mask the storm within. Every eye turned toward him. Every heart expected his choice. But in his mind, only one image remained.

“Esteemed guests, nobles, and friends from across the worlds,” he began, voice steady yet tinged with a faint tremor. “Today is a special day, one that means far more than merely celebrating my birthday. It is the day I must choose my consort, the one who will stand beside me as a support and partner for the future of our planet.”

His gaze swept the hall. Aiko was gone. Her absence was a hollow echo in the grandeur, a quiet emptiness that no ceremonial words could fill.

Akihiko (thinking): "I wish she could see this… I wish she knew…"

He drew a deep breath, forcing his heart to obey duty over longing.

“The choice was not easy. After careful consideration, I have chosen… My bride will be princess Miyu Takumi.”

A hush fell. Some held their breath; others bowed in deference. Akihiko’s expression remained composed, but inside, his heart twisted. "It should have been her… but she cannot remember… and I cannot risk the alternative."

Akihiko: “I ask you all to respect this decision and join me in stepping into the new chapter that awaits us.”

Princess Miyu bowed gracefully, a smile of composed serenity upon her lips. Yet in her eyes, shadows lingered—secrets she dared not voice.

Miyu (thinking): "I’m sorry… I betrayed my heart. I will always love you, Daichi… but my duty is more important. Still… I see his struggle. Even behind the composed prince, there is pain no one else can touch."

Applause rose in the hall, but Akihiko’s gaze remained distant, drifting toward where Aiko had last stood. Mika’s eyes lingered on the empty corner, and Naoru’s expression spoke volumes of unspoken understanding.

Princess Miyu approached Akihiko, extending her hand as protocol demanded. Akihiko took it, perfectly composed, though his fingers tightened unconsciously. Every movement was deliberate, every breath measured. His soul, however, felt torn.

Naoru slightly leaned toward Mika and whispered:

“Aiko… he sent her away, didn’t he?”

Mika simply nodded, eyes fixed on Akihiko’s shoulders, heavier than ever tonight.

The engagement ring was placed in Akihiko’s hand, the symbol of royal duty. His fingers trembled slightly as he held it, the polished metal cold against his skin, a reminder of the choice he had made for others but not for his heart.

Akihiko (softly, to princess Miyu): “Accept this ring as a token of respect… and of the duty I have chosen.”

Princess Miyu: “I accept prince Akihiko. May our future be peaceful.”

Her words were calm, composed—but no spark of triumph or happiness lit her eyes. The dance began, soft and formal, music flowing like silk through the hall. Akihiko led her with perfect posture, every step precise. But beneath the practiced movements, a hollow ache echoed in his chest.

Mika and Naoru exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging the unspoken truth. Behind the facade of duty, Akihiko’s heart remained tethered to someone far away—someone whose memory of him had been stolen but whose presence lingered in his every thought.

As the night carried on, guests danced, laughter resounded, and the hall glimmered with light and jewels. Yet in Akihiko’s mind, the only image that remained was Aiko—her smile, her warmth, her quiet courage. A memory erased for her, but indelibly engraved in him.

Outside, the garden lights shimmered softly, casting gentle shadows across the palace grounds. In his chest, a quiet ache lingered, a silent yearning that no applause or ceremony could ever erase. For Akihiko, the night had ended not with celebration, but with a heart forever incomplete.