Chapter 13 – The Day Everything Broke

Yuji collapsed on a Tuesday.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No warning. No heroic buildup.

One moment he was stacking boxes at the back of the store, vision swimming, knees weak. The next, the floor rushed up to meet him.

“Hey—Sakamoto!”

Someone shouted his name.

Then everything went dark.

When Yuji woke up, fluorescent lights burned his eyes.

Aiko was sitting beside the bed, hands clenched in her lap. Her face was pale. Her eyes were swollen, red from crying.

“You fainted,” she said quietly.

Yuji tried to sit up. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” she snapped before she could stop herself.

He winced, more from her tone than his body. “It’s just exhaustion.”

The doctor explained it clearly. Too many hours. Not enough sleep. Poor nutrition. Stress.

“You’re lucky,” the doctor said. “Another hour and it could’ve been worse.”

Aiko didn’t say anything while they walked home.

Yuji noticed the way she moved slower than usual, one hand supporting her lower back. Guilt pressed heavy on his chest.

“I’ll cut back on shifts,” he said.

She stopped walking.

“You said that last time.”

“I mean it now.”

“You always mean it,” she said. “And then you don’t.”

He looked away. “We need the money.”

“And what happens if you die?” Her voice cracked. “What happens to me? To the baby?”

“That’s not fair,” he said, irritation rising. “I’m doing this for us.”

“For us?” she repeated bitterly. “Or because you think you have to suffer alone?”

Yuji clenched his fists. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You do,” she said. “You just won’t let anyone help you.”

They reached the apartment stairs.

Yuji rubbed his face. “I’m tired, Aiko. I don’t want to fight.”

“Neither do I,” she said. “But we can’t keep living like this.”

He turned toward her. “Then what do you want from me?”

“I want you alive,” she shouted. “I want you to come home. I want to stop feeling like I’m watching you disappear!”

Her breath came fast. Tears spilled freely now.

Yuji snapped back, voice sharp with fear he didn’t know how to control. “Do you think I don’t feel that pressure? Every day I wake up terrified I’m not enough!”

The words hung in the stairwell.

Aiko took a step back.

“I didn’t ask you to destroy yourself,” she whispered.

“And I didn’t ask to be an orphan,” he shot back without thinking.

The moment the word left his mouth, he regretted it.

Aiko’s face went blank.

“I didn’t mean—”

Her foot missed the step.

It happened too fast.

A sharp gasp. A sudden slip. Her body tilted sideways.

“Aiko!”

She fell.

Her body hit the stairs hard, a dull, sickening sound that echoed through the narrow space. Yuji rushed down, heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

“Aiko—Aiko, look at me!”

She was conscious. Barely.

Her face was twisted in pain, hands gripping her stomach.

“It hurts,” she whispered. “Yuji… something’s wrong…”

Then he saw it.

Water pooling beneath her.

His blood ran cold.

“No… no, no, no—”

Her eyes widened. “My water… broke…”

Panic swallowed him whole.

The ambulance ride blurred into sirens and screams.

Yuji held her hand the entire time, shaking, apologizing over and over.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

Aiko cried through the contractions, sweat soaking her hair, fear overtaking pain.

“It’s too early,” she sobbed. “Yuji, I’m scared.”

“I’m here,” he said desperately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The hospital lights were blinding.

Doctors rushed her away.

Yuji stood uselessly in the hallway, hands stained with her tears, his knees threatening to give out again.

Hours passed.

Every second felt like punishment.

Finally, a nurse approached.

“She delivered,” she said. “The baby is small, but alive.”

Yuji’s legs gave out. He cried openly, head bowed.

“Can I see her?” he asked hoarsely. “Can I see them?”

Aiko lay in the hospital bed, exhausted beyond words.

Her body hurt everywhere. Her heart felt hollow.

The baby slept in the small crib beside her. Tiny. Fragile. Breathing softly.

Yuji entered slowly, eyes red, face pale.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Aiko didn’t respond.

He moved closer. “Aiko… I’m sorry. About everything.”

Silence.

He reached for her hand.

She pulled it away.

His chest tightened. “Aiko?”

She stared at the ceiling, voice empty. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The words cut deeper than any scream.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She finally turned to him. Her eyes were calm. Too calm.

“I can’t be poor,” she said. “I can’t watch you kill yourself. I can’t raise a child like this.”

Yuji shook his head. “We’ll figure it out. Please—”

“I thought I could,” she continued. “I really did. I thought love would be enough.”

He fell to his knees beside the bed. “Don’t do this. Not now.”

Tears slid down her temples, but her voice stayed steady.

“I’m weak,” she admitted. “I tried to be strong. I failed.”

“Aiko—”

“I’m leaving,” she said.

The room went silent.

Yuji felt something inside him shatter.

“What about the baby?” he whispered.

She closed her eyes. “She’ll be better with you.”

His breath hitched. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” she said. “I can’t stay. If I do, I’ll hate myself. And I’ll hate you.”

She turned her face away.

Yuji stayed there, unmoving.

The woman he loved was slipping away, not in anger, not in cruelty.

But in surrender.

When he finally stood, his legs barely held him.

“I’ll take care of her,” he said quietly. “No matter what.”

Aiko didn’t answer.

He left the room without looking back.

And just like that—

Aiko Hoshizora disappeared from Yuji Sakamoto’s life.

Leaving behind a newborn daughter.

And a man who had just lost everything… while gaining everything at the same time.