The sky hides something

Back on Earth.

Aiko recovered slowly, returning to school.

Her classmates greeted her with curiosity and concern, whispering questions she could not answer.

They pitied her. They worried. But no one could see the truth—Aiko carried within her a secret void, a missing piece she could not even name.

Everywhere she went, eyes followed her. Whispers trailed her footsteps.

“She’s the girl who was missing…”

“Six months, they said. How is she even alive?”

“What happened to her…?”

Others questioning her…

“Where were you?”

“What happened?”

Aiko only smiled faintly, brushing the questions aside. “I don’t know… I really don’t.”

But inside, her chest burned with questions she could never answer. Each night, her dreams returned — fragments of laughter, voices she could not place, the vague outline of a boy who made her heart ache though she did not know his name.

And every morning, she touched her bare neck, as if searching for something… someone… that should have been there.

Far away from Earth, in his chamber, Akihiko sat alone carefully held Aiko’s necklace. It was small, fragile, yet infinitely precious. With delicate hands, he repaired its broken clasp, polishing away the scratches as though healing a wound within his own heart.

When the work was done, he stared for a moment at necklace, then he carefully, reverently, lifted it and slipped it around his own neck, tucking it beneath his collar, hidden from the world.

“…Wherever you are… you’ll always be with me.”

His voice cracked, but his vow was firm.

At palace, his composure remained unshaken. With princess Miyu, he was the dutiful prince, composed and dignified. But queen Hanae saw through it. Akihiko had grown quieter, more distant, his eyes often lost in thought. She leaned toward king Kaito one evening, worry written across her face.

The queen spoke anxiously to her husband.

“Our son is not the same. His smile is gone. Duty holds him upright, but his heart… it wanders elsewhere. With princess Miyu, he is respectful, dutiful—but cold, as though an invisible wall stood between them.”

The king’s expression hardened. “Duty binds him, but even duty cannot chain a heart forever.”

That night on Earth, Aiko sat at her bedroom window, gazing at the stars. The night sky seemed brighter than usual, almost alive, as though it whispered secrets she could not understand.

Her heart raced. She pressed her hand to her chest.

Her whisper broke into the silence of her room.

“Why does it hurt? Why do tears fall when I don’t even know why?”

Her memories of the missing months remained hazy, unreachable—buried somewhere among the stars.

“Where was I… all this time?”

Her hand drifted once more to her neck. Empty. Always empty.

She gazed at the stars, her eyes searching for something she could not name.

At that same moment on planet Akarihoshi, Akihiko stood alone on his balcony, the Aiko’s necklace pressed against his chest. The engagement ring still heavy on his hand. His eyes lingered on the stars as if they might carry whispers of the girl he had lost.

“Aiko… can you hear me? No matter how far apart we are, I will never forget you.”

Their eyes could not meet; their hands could not touch. Yet, across the veil of stars, their hearts reached for one another — aching, longing, waiting for a day that destiny had yet to reveal.

Elsewhere, Mika and Naoru sat quietly on a bench before the palace. Mika’s eyes lifted toward the main tower where Akihiko’s silhouette stood framed against the starlight.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” she asked softly.

Naoru exhaled, his tone grave. “No. Not as long as he loves her, he won’t be.”

Mika lowered her gaze, troubled. “And princess Miyu? Does she realize this?”

Naoru’s voice was quiet, almost reluctant. “Probably better than anyone. She’s carrying her own burden, too.”

The next morning on planet Earth, Aiko sat at her school desk, staring at the girl who had just been introduced.

“This is Rin,” the teacher announced. “She’ll be sitting beside Aiko.”

Rin bowed lightly, her dark hair falling over her shoulder, her eyes bright and quietly observant. Aiko felt something—comfort, warmth, an inexplicable sense of closeness.

“Hello,” Aiko said softly.

“Hello,” Rin replied with a calm smile. “I’m glad we’re neighbors.”

That smile lingered in Aiko’s heart longer than she expected.

Walking home together later that day, Rin suddenly looked up at the sky and murmured, “Aiko… don’t you sometimes feel like the sky is hiding something from us?”

Aiko stopped in her tracks. Her chest tightened. She had asked herself the same question countless times.

“…Always,” she whispered. “Especially at night. As if the stars know more than they’re telling us.”

Rin glanced at her with quiet understanding. For a brief moment, it felt as though the stars themselves had tied a fragile thread between them.

Far across the galaxy, Kaelrith sat slouched upon a dark throne, his body still scarred from battle. Pain lanced through him with every breath, yet in his eyes burned an unquenchable fire of revenge.

“Prince,” one of his cloaked followers said, bowing low, “we have news. The princess… she has returned on planet Earth.”

Kaelrith’s lips curved into a cold smile. “So, fate brings her back to me. Very well… this time, she will not escape.”

Dark energy crackled around him, pulsing like a heartbeat of pure malice.

From the shadows, a younger follower stepped forward, eyes glowing red like embers. “Prince Kaelrith, allow me. Let me go to Earth. I will find her. I will watch.”

Kaelrith studied him for a long moment before laughing low. “Go. But do not strike yet. Only observe.”

The hologram flickered to life, showing Aiko walking home from school—her new classmate Rin quietly at her side.

Kaelrith’s gaze sharpened. “Ah… so she is not alone. Interesting.”

The follower bowed and vanished into the darkness. Kaelrith clenched his fist, shadows writhing around him like serpents.

“This time… the flame she carries will burn only for me.”