The Moonlit Encounter

When they told me to be the guide for two weeks, I thought I had to go every single day of the week, but it turned out it was only three days a week. That was rather relieving. I was doing great actually—a lot better than I thought. Just by going there, I had already explored those smaller pyramids, even one of the big ones. The students also kept quiet. Overall, it was actually a good thing for me.

But that Sora girl… she kept asking me some irrelevant questions, most of the time I dodged them.

However, fate is such a thing—it always takes unexpected turns when you least expect it. I forgot that… and once again, I was reminded.

1 Year Ago
(3 days before Ruu’s release)
—Mental Rehabilitation Facility—

Aiko entered the mental rehabilitation facility. The air inside was cold and carried a faint smell of medicine mixed with something metallic. She walked past the reception after signing her name, her footsteps echoing on the polished floor.

The staff guided her through the long white corridor. On both sides, there were closed doors with little square glass windows, and sometimes she could hear muffled voices from behind them—some crying, some laughing, some just talking to themselves.

Finally, they stopped at a door near the end of the hall.
“This is the visitor’s room,” the staff member said flatly. “You will have twenty minutes.”

Aiko nodded. The door opened with a creak, and she stepped inside.

The room was small, with a single table and two chairs. A barred window near the ceiling let in a strip of daylight. The smell of disinfectant was stronger here, almost stinging the nose.

She sat down and waited. A few moments later, the door opened again, and Ruu was escorted in by a guard. He looked thinner, his hair longer than before, but his eyes were calm—too calm, like he had already given up on something long ago.

The guard made him sit across from her.
“You have twenty minutes,” the guard repeated before stepping out, leaving the door half-closed.

For a moment, silence stretched between them. The clock on the wall ticked slowly, louder than it should have been.
Ruu looked at her, his expression unreadable.
Aiko took a quiet breath, preparing to speak.

“So… you really made up your mind on that?”

Ruu held her gaze for a moment, then lowered his head and replied in a calm voice, “Yes.”

“What about Sora? She’s been waiting these three years. What am I supposed to tell her?”

There was a pause before he answered, “I… don’t know.” His eyes met hers as he said it.

“She really wants to see you, Ruu. Can’t you at least meet her before you leave? She even came here four days ago, you must’ve heard. She’s been preparing for your return, taking care of your old things. Do you realize how heartbroken she’ll be if you abandon her like this?”

“It’s probably… for the best. For all of us.”
Tears slipped down Ruu’s cheeks as he forced the words out.

Aiko noticed, and let out a heavy sigh. “I see…”

She hesitated, then continued, “And are you really sure about making Sora the sole heir to the entire wealth, despite you being your father’s only biological son?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“But what about you? You’re leaving with nothing. You’ll need money too. At least take a quarter of it.”

Ruu exhaled deeply. “No, it’s fine. I just need ten thousand dollars, that’s enough for me to manage on my own. I want Sora to never face any difficulties. This wealth will protect her if she ever ends up in a hard situation. And besides… I know it’s already tough for you and Uncle to run your family while looking after another mouth to feed. I want you to see her as your own child, not as some forced burden.”

Tears welled up in Aiko’s eyes, her voice trembling as she spoke, “We have never once considered Sora a burden. Money doesn’t matter to us. We’ve always seen her as our own daughter… and we’ll continue to treat her that way until our last breath.”

“I see,” Ruu murmured, a faint, strained smile tugging at his lips. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Aiko broke down even more at that smile, because she knew exactly what he was hiding behind it.

Eastside District, Tanaka Residence
(Present)

“Aiko, when is Sora coming?” asked Mr. Tanaka.

“The day after tomorrow is their flight. Oh! I forgot to clean up her room. It’s been like that for weeks since she left.”

“Honey, talk to you later. I have to clean Sora’s room first.” She hurried off as she finished speaking.

She cracked the door open and stepped inside. A stale smell lingered in the air, the kind that gathers when a room is left shut for too long. She walked over and pushed the window open, letting the air outside swallow it away.

Then she began cleaning—her books, clothes, bed—everything one by one. It didn’t take much time since Sora was always quite disciplined herself.

Finally, Aiko’s eyes landed on the trash bin. There was only a single piece of paper inside. Not folded like trash—just lying there.

“What’s that paper?” she muttered.

Her curiosity sparked. She thought it might be something important, maybe something that had fallen in by mistake. So she reached out and picked it up.

But the moment her eyes ran across the words written there, her whole world flipped upside down.

The broomstick slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a dull sound. Her body froze in shock.
It was the letter Ruu had sent to Sora.

“How did I… we forget…?” she whispered to herself, trembling.
Her knees weakened as she clutched the paper tighter.

Suddenly, her breath quickened, her voice cracking as she stumbled back, “He told me… he told me he’d go to Egypt after traveling for a few months… near Giza… I—I forgot… how could I forget that…?”

Her chest tightened, the weight crushing her as a sob tore free.

Mr. Tanaka rushed in, alarmed by the sound, and saw her collapsed on the floor, shaking with despair.

Seeing her so desperate, Mr. Tanaka was taken aback, his face tightening with unease.
“Aiko, what happened suddenly?”

Without a word, she thrust the paper into his hands. As he read, his eyes widened, the color draining from his face. For a long moment, he was silent, stunned by the truth written before him.

“Honey, we need to contact the Legacy authorities. What if Sora… what if she ends up somewhere unsafe? What if she crosses paths with him?” Aiko’s voice broke mid-sentence, tears spilling down her cheeks. “What if she sees him, and… and decides not to come back? What if he refuses her if she… if she does something foolish out of…” Her voice broke, and she collapsed into tears before she could finish.

Mr. Tanaka’s hands shook as he fumbled for his phone, his fingers trembling so badly he almost dropped it. He dialed the Legacy authorities with a breathless urgency, pacing back and forth across the living room as the call connected.

“Hello—this is Tanaka speaking. My niece, Sora, she’s with the Legacy High group in Egypt. I need to know where she is right now!” His voice cracked with desperation.

The man on the other end sounded calm, too calm. “Sir, there’s no need to panic. The students are still in the middle of their exploration. Normally, they would have returned by now, but since today is the last day, the schedule was extended by two hours. It’s just past seven there, so they’ll be wrapping up soon.”

Mr. Tanaka pressed the phone harder against his ear, his face tightening. “You don’t understand. Please—contact Sora directly. Check if she’s safe. Do you even realize what could happen if she—” His throat closed, but he forced the words out. “If she does something foolish?”

There was a short silence, then the authority chuckled softly, almost carefree. “Sir, you’re overthinking this. The students are in groups of five, each group accompanied by a professional guide. Nothing will happen to them. They’re perfectly safe. You have no reason to worry.”

Mr. Tanaka’s eyes flicked toward Aiko, who was trembling on the couch, her hands clutching her chest as if to keep her heart from breaking. His grip tightened on the phone.

“You don’t understand…” he whispered, his voice low but shaking with fury. “If anything happens to her… if anything happens to Sora… we will never forgive ourselves. Please, I beg you—just find her. Please…”

But the authority only repeated in the same detached tone, “She’s fine, sir. Trust us.”

The call ended with a hollow beep, leaving the room drowned in silence, except for Aiko’s muffled sobs. Mr. Tanaka lowered the phone slowly, his face pale, his body rigid with helplessness.

Giza, Egypt
Since it was the last day, they were being unusually punctual, as if it were their final chance to accomplish something.

It was almost 8:30 p.m. by the time we finished exploring the pyramids. That Sora girl had been really quiet for the past two days, as though something was weighing heavily on her mind. Even though I mostly avoided looking at them directly, I could still hear their chatter about different myths, legends, and conspiracies. I turned a deaf ear to it all. But Sora—she seemed different. Quieter, lost in thought, as if drifting somewhere far away.

Every person has their own struggles, their own burdens to carry. And most of the time, you must bear them alone. Such is the way of the world.

When we stepped out of the pyramid, the group was completely drained. They nearly collapsed onto the sand.

“…Sir… wait… we are very… exhausted…” Yuri said with a pitiful face.

Then Yoshino raised her hand, trying to signal me to stop, and added, “Yes… let us rest for about five minutes…”

I looked her straight in the eye and said, “Fine. Do whatever you want. But make it quick—you must be back by 9 p.m.”

That was when I noticed something. Sora was shivering from the cold. She hadn’t brought warm clothes, unaware that desert nights grow bitterly cold after sunset. Normally, I wouldn’t have done anything for anyone in such circumstances. But perhaps the fact that she shared the same name as my Sora stirred a faint spark of pity in me. I couldn’t just watch her like that.

I removed the keffiyeh from my head—the one I always used to cover my face and protect against the desert wind. Walking over to her, I knelt down, held it out, and said,
“Here. Take this. It’s large enough to wrap yourself in. You’ll feel warmer, and more comfortable.”

She blinked at me as if those words were the last thing she ever expected to hear from me. I hadn’t noticed it before, but under that moonlit night, I realized just how gorgeous she truly was. The silver light from the moon fell upon her pitch-black hair, and her deep, dark eyes—ringed with a soft brown hue—made her seem no less than a moon princess in the flesh.

She looked as though she were in awe, frozen in a moment she couldn’t quite believe. I simply placed the keffiyeh in her hand, stood up, and walked away. I moved a little further off, putting some distance between us.

The moon that night wasn’t full—it was a sharp crescent, its edges defined and cold, yet its light still bathed the desert in a strangely soothing glow.

I kept staring at it, letting out a heavy sigh as the desert wind blew through my hair. Then, from behind me, I suddenly heard something I never thought I would hear again in thousand years.

“Oni-chan?”

I was completely startled by those two words. My eyes froze, wide with shock. I turned my head and saw Sora standing before me. I couldn’t speak. Words escaped me in her presence. Everything around me felt numb, as if the world had lost meaning and her being there sent a chill down my spine. I just watched her — she stood there, her hair waving gently as she held the keffiyeh in her hand. Her eyes gave me a deep, searching stare, like someone trying to find a lost piece of themselves.

She stepped forward, wrapped the keffiyeh around my shoulders, and pressed her head to my chest before hugging me. “It’s you, oni-chan, isn’t it?” she whispered.

She pulled back and looked at me. “You know, oni-chan, when I first met you, I felt like you were someone I knew but couldn’t place… like a missing piece of me that had been gone for years. I kept staring at you all the time — the way you spoke, the way you moved, the little things you did… it felt so familiar. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe you wouldn’t recognize me after more than five years… but when I went to the rehabilitation center seven days before you were released, I actually saw a grown-up photo of you in the patient file. So when you uncovered your face in the moonlight earlier, I looked at you…and I knew. It was you — my oni-chan… my only star, my only true sun.”

I listened to her ramble on. I couldn’t answer. Words wouldn’t come. I didn’t know how to meet her eyes.

“And finally I have found you, oni-chan. Let’s live together from now on, oni-chan.” Her smile glowed in the moonlight, as if she’d decided fate had finally given them a chance.

I put my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back a little, trying to gather myself. I opened my mouth. “I… I—”
But I stopped midway. For a second I only looked at the sand, letting the silence fill the space between us. Then I lifted my eyes and met hers.

“Sorry… I can’t do that.”

I hadn’t wanted to say it, but the words came out as if they had been waiting inside me all this time — heavy and unavoidable. I didn’t say the rest. I didn’t need to. The truth was already there: I wasn’t the kind of person who could give her the life she deserved. If she stayed with me, she would only inherit the shame, the danger, the things people whispered about. I loved her too much to let that happen.

She looked at me and whispered, “But why not?”

I only managed, “I can’t.”

Her face crumpled, and then she broke — a sound that started small and then became loud and desperate. Tears poured down her cheeks as she spoke, voice raw and trembling:

“Why, oni-chan? Why? Why can’t we live together like we used to before all of this happened? Do you know I can’t sleep at night because I keep thinking about you? You’re always in my mind. Every day I can’t help it — you’re all I think about. Life without you feels hollow. At this rate, I don’t know what I’ll do. Every hour, every second, you’re the constant thought in my head. I keep having nightmares about losing you. After reading your letter — do you know how heartbroken I was? Do you know how much I cried? And you made me the sole inheritor of everything — the land, the wealth. What am I supposed to do with that if the person I want to be with isn’t here? What is the meaning of wealth if the person you want is not with you? Do you know what runs through my head all the time? Do you know how much I suffer, constantly thinking about you? You didn’t even meet me before you disappeared after your release! I’ve been waiting for you ever since you were sent away. I counted down the days to see you. I even set out your favorite books and the games we used to play together! What did I do wrong, oni-chan? What did I do wrong?! Do you think I want praise or recognition from others more than I want you? Do you really think I’m that kind of person? You are my happiness. Without you, my life is like a candle burning alone — ready to go out any moment.”

I really didn’t know what to say to her. How could I put my feelings into words? Every time I tried, my throat locked up. The weight in my chest pressed heavier and heavier. My words, compared to her tears, felt too small… too useless. So I just stood there, abandoning her with silence.

“I’m sorry… Sora. But I can’t… you know that…”

She shook her head weakly, tears sliding down her cheeks. Then, as if her legs could no longer hold her, she sank down to the sand, her hands clutching at the edge of my clothes near my waist.

“Then… why, oni-chan?” she whispered between her cries. “Why can’t we be like before? Did I do something wrong? Tell me… tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it… anything, just… don’t leave me again…”

Her tears seeped through my clothes, each drop sinking into me like fire.
She pressed her forehead against me, her words broken between hiccupped breaths.

“Oni-chan… do you hate me now? Is that why…?” Her voice cracked, but she couldn’t stop. “Or am I just… not enough for you anymore?”

Every word, every plea, hammered against my chest. I wanted to lift her up, to hold her and tell her everything I had buried all these years—but my voice was chained. My silence was all I could give.

Her sobs grew louder, raw, unrestrained. “Oni-chan… please… don’t push me away again… please… I can’t… I can’t take it anymore…”

Each word stabbed deeper, shattering the walls I had tried to build around myself. Her voice, her tears, her helplessness — everything was pulling me apart piece by piece.

As she clung tighter, sobbing harder, the cracks inside me deepened. My hands trembled. My heart screamed. The dam I had built around myself began to shatter.

And for the first time in years… I felt the words clawing their way out of me.

I collapsed onto the sand, knees digging in. I pulled Sora close and held her, and the years of everything—guilt, silence, regret—finally broke me. Warm tears spilled down, hot and plain.

“…I’m… sorry, Sora… I’m sorry…” I could barely get the words out. My voice kept cracking.
“I always thought… I wanted the best for you. Even though I wrote those hard words in the letter… but… the truth is… I just want to see you. I want to be with you…”

My hands shook against her back. The sound of my own sobs felt strange and foreign in my mouth, like something I had locked away and forgotten how to use.

“Hate you? Never… I could never hate you,” I choked out. “After I was sent to that place… I thought about ending it more than once. But the only thing that stopped me was you — the hope of meeting you again. That hope kept me going. I wanted to see you, to talk for hours, to tell you everything… But then I realized how naive I was, how small my place was to even dream of that. Still… I wanted you so badly. I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life… to live beside you…”

My voice broke and the words tumbled on until I could barely breathe.

“But… Sora — no matter how I feel, no matter how you feel… regardless of what we want… fate is too cruel…” I tried to say, but the sentence fell apart inside me.

I pushed her away gently and stood up. She stayed on the sand, looking up at me. I planted my feet, turned my back to her, and stared at the night sky — anything but her face.

The desert wind bit at my cheeks. I took a long, ragged breath and forced the words out, facing away so she couldn’t see me break.

“…too cruel to let that happen,” I said quietly. “We can’t live together. It’s better this way. You have to forget I ever existed… and move on with your life.”

For a moment there was only silence. Then I heard her sobbing rise again. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, stood up, and without a word she started running—straight into the dark.

“Sora—!” I shouted, but my voice only pushed her faster. My chest tightened as I chased after her, the sand swallowing the sound of my steps.

Up ahead, I saw the outline of the Sphinx against the moonlight. She stumbled toward it, her body shaking as if she didn’t even know where she was going. The desert was empty except for us, but something about that silence felt wrong.

Suddenly, the sand beneath her feet shifted. I heard her scream as her legs sank.

“Oni-chan!”

Quicksand.

I ran with all the strength I had left and reached her. She was already waist-deep, fighting, sinking further every time she struggled. I grabbed her hand, pulled with everything inside me, but the sand slowly started to drag me in too.

She screamed, tears falling down her cheeks. “Let go! Please… you’ll sink too if you hold me! Just let me go!”

Her body shook violently, her voice desperate, begging me — but my grip only tightened.

“No!” I shouted, pulling with all my strength though my own legs were already caught. “I can’t! I’ll never let you go!”

Her sobs grew louder, her free hand slapping the sand as it dragged us deeper. “Oni-chan, please! You’ll die too! I don’t want that! Please, just let me—”

“I can’t!” I cut her off, my own voice breaking as tears filled my eyes. “Sora… I have too many regrets already. Too many mistakes I can’t erase. But if I let your hand go now… if I lose you here… that regret will eat me alive for the rest of my life. I’ll never forgive myself!”

But it was useless. The more I fought, the deeper we went. My chest sank, my arms, the cold pull dragging us down together.

“I won’t let go!” I yelled, tightening my grip one last time, her eyes met mine before the sand swallowed us whole.

We drowned. We fell.

But the fall didn’t end in death. The sand spat us out into a space that smelled old and still — a wide chamber under the desert, carved stone around us and a low light we couldn’t place. My chest heaved. I was coughing sand. Her hand was still in mine, limp but warm.

We lay there on a hard, cool floor, breathing like we’d been pulled from the edge of something final. For a moment neither of us spoke. The only sound was our ragged breaths and the small drip of sand sliding to the chamber floor.

I kept holding her hand. I wasn’t going to let go. Not now. Not ever.