Chapter 37 – The Night That Almost Became Home

The final day of shooting arrived quietly.

No dramatic announcements. No lingering music. Just the soft exhaustion of people who had lived inside a story long enough to feel it ending.

Mai stood beside Aiko on set, still in costume. The lights felt warmer today. The air heavier.

The director smiled, clapping his hands once. “That’s a wrap. Thank you, everyone.”

Applause filled the studio.

Mai looked up, confused. “It’s finished?”

Aiko knelt in front of her, smoothing the child’s hair. “Yes. You did very well.”

Mai smiled, but it was small. “I liked being with you.”

Aiko’s throat tightened.

“So did I,” she replied softly.

They hugged. Not as characters. Not for the camera.

Just two people who were not ready to let go.

Rin watched from a distance, arms folded, eyes wet. Yuji stood beside her, unreadable, hands shoved into his pockets.

He had stayed. Every day. Silent. Watching.

The way Aiko looked at Mai was not acting.

That scared him more than anything.

That evening, the wrap party filled a private restaurant with laughter and noise. Music thumped. Glasses clinked. People celebrated survival more than success.

Mai sat on a couch near the corner, fighting sleep.

Aiko noticed immediately.

She crouched beside her. “Tired?”

Mai nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Very.”

Aiko hesitated, then smiled gently. “You can sleep in my room upstairs. Just for tonight.”

Mai looked at Yuji instinctively.

Yuji’s jaw tightened.

Before he could speak, Aiko turned to him. “Please. Let her stay. I’ll take care of her.”

There was no demand in her voice. Only hope.

Yuji shook his head. “No.”

Aiko froze.

“She comes with me,” Yuji said. Firm. Final.

Mai clutched his sleeve. “Dad…”

Yuji bent down, lifting her into his arms. “You’re sleeping at home.”

Aiko stood slowly, hands clenched at her sides.

“I just wanted one night,” she whispered.

Yuji did not answer.

He walked away.

The party continued.

Aiko stayed.

She should have left.

Instead, she took a glass from a passing tray.

Then another.

Across the room, Yuji sat at the bar.

He ordered whiskey.

Then another.

The space between them filled with noise, strangers, music.

Yuji laughed suddenly. Loud. Too loud.

A woman touched his arm. Another joined them. Someone pulled him toward the dance floor.

Yuji let it happen.

He danced badly. Carelessly. His smile was sharp and false.

Aiko watched.

Her chest burned.

She told herself she had no right.

But jealousy rose anyway.

She drank more.

Someone spun her around. Complimented her. Praised her beauty.

She laughed when she shouldn’t have.

Their eyes met across the crowd.

Yuji’s smile faded.

Aiko turned away.

Time blurred.

The music slowed.

Yuji stumbled outside, the night air cold against his skin.

He leaned against the wall, breath uneven.

Why did it still hurt?

Why did her face undo him?

His knees gave out.

Yuji collapsed.

Aiko saw it happen.

She dropped her glass and ran.

“Yuji!”

She knelt beside him, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“Hey. Look at me,” she said, voice shaking.

Yuji laughed weakly. “You always sound like that. Like you care.”

Her tears fell onto his shirt.

“I do,” she whispered. “I always did.”

He tried to stand. Failed.

Aiko held him tighter.

For the first time in years, he didn’t pull away.

He rested his head against her chest.

And cried.

Quietly. Brokenly.

“I hated you,” he murmured. “I told myself I did.”

Aiko stroked his hair, sobbing silently.

“I deserved it.”

They stayed like that for a long time.

Until the noise faded.

Until the world narrowed to breath and warmth.

Later, in the guest room, Mai stirred.

Her eyes opened slowly.

The door creaked.

Aiko entered carefully, carrying Yuji’s jacket.

She froze when she saw Mai awake.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

Mai sat up, hair messy. “You’re crying.”

Aiko wiped her face. “Just tired.”

Mai looked at her seriously.

“Will you sit with me?”

Aiko nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

Mai reached out, holding her hand.

It felt natural. Too natural.

“Aiko,” Mai said softly. “When I’m with you, it feels like something missing comes back.”

Aiko’s breath caught.

Mai hesitated, then asked, voice trembling but brave.

“…Will you be my mother? Please?”

The world stopped.

Aiko’s vision blurred completely.

She covered her mouth, shaking.

“I…” her voice broke. “I want to. More than anything.”

Mai smiled sleepily. “Then stay.”

Aiko lay beside her, carefully, afraid to break the moment.

Mai curled closer, already drifting back to sleep.

Aiko held her.

And for the first time since the past shattered, she allowed herself to imagine a future.

One where she did not run.

One where she stayed.

Outside the room, Yuji leaned against the wall, listening.

He closed his eyes.

And wondered how much longer he could pretend this didn’t matter.