Chapter 43 – The Blood That Binds

The hospital lights were too bright.

Too clean. Too cold.

Aiko’s footsteps echoed as she ran down the corridor, her wedding heels abandoned somewhere behind her, her white dress wrinkled and stained from tears. Nurses glanced at her in confusion. A bride did not belong in a place like this.

But a mother did.

“Mai,” Aiko whispered, her chest burning. “Please… please be okay.”

She reached the ICU waiting area and stopped so suddenly she nearly fell.

Yuji was there.

Sitting stiffly on a plastic chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles were white. There was dried blood on his sleeve. His hair was a mess. His eyes were hollow with fear he was refusing to show.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Then Yuji looked up.

Their eyes met.

Everything they had buried rose at once.

“You came,” he said flatly.

Aiko took a step forward. Then another. Her voice shook. “I heard… I heard Mai was hurt.”

Yuji stood.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. Not angry. Not shouting. Just tired. “You have a wedding.”

Aiko shook her head violently. “I don’t care about that.”

“That’s always been the problem,” Yuji replied quietly. “You don’t care until it hurts.”

The words sliced through her.

“I know,” she said, tears spilling freely now. “And I deserve that. I deserve every word. But please—please let me see her.”

Yuji turned away.

“She’s unconscious,” he said. “She doesn’t need confusion right now.”

Aiko covered her mouth, choking back a sob. “I won’t say anything. I won’t touch her if you don’t want me to. I just… I need to see her breathing.”

Yuji’s jaw tightened.

“She lost blood,” he continued. “They’re still stabilizing her.”

Aiko froze. “Blood?”

He nodded once. “She needs a transfusion. Her type is rare.”

Aiko didn’t hesitate.

“I’m her mother,” she said. “Test me.”

Yuji laughed bitterly. “Now you remember.”

“I never forgot,” Aiko whispered. “I was just lied to. Trapped. Scared. And weak.”

She stepped closer, bowing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For leaving. For not fighting harder. For believing you were dead. For everything.”

Yuji looked at her then.

Really looked.

She wasn’t the glamorous actress. She wasn’t the obedient daughter in silk dresses.

She was a woman shaking in a torn wedding gown, begging beside a hospital wall.

“…You hurt her,” Yuji said quietly.

“I know,” Aiko replied. “And I will carry that forever. But please… let me protect her now.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Yuji exhaled.

“Get tested,” he said.

Aiko collapsed with relief.

The nurse moved quickly. Blood type confirmed. Match.

When they led her to the donation room, Aiko didn’t flinch as the needle went in. She stared at the red flowing through the tube, her lips trembling.

“This is the first thing I’ve ever given her without running,” she whispered.

Afterward, they let her into the room.

Mai lay small and pale beneath the sheets, a bandage wrapped around her head, tubes attached to her tiny arm.

Aiko’s legs nearly gave out.

She approached slowly, like Mai might disappear if she moved too fast.

“…Mai,” she whispered.

No response.

Aiko knelt beside the bed and gently placed her hand near Mai’s, not touching, just close enough to feel warmth.

“I’m here,” she said softly. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Yuji watched from the doorway.

For a long time, he said nothing.

Then Aiko turned to him.

“Yuji,” she said quietly. “I won’t ask you to forgive me. I don’t have that right.”

She swallowed.

“But can I ask one thing?”

He remained silent.

“Can I join you two?” she asked. “Not as someone who replaces anything. Just… as someone who stays.”

Yuji closed his eyes.

Memories flashed. The nights he rocked Mai alone. The hunger. The fear. The words orphan. The lie that she was dead.

“You don’t get to choose when to be a family,” he said hoarsely.

“I know,” Aiko replied. “You choose every day. And I failed every one of those days.”

She bowed her head. “But if you ever let me… I want to choose from now on.”

Mai stirred.

Her fingers twitched.

Yuji rushed to her side instantly. “Mai?”

Her eyes fluttered open slightly.

“Papa…” she murmured.

“I’m here,” Yuji said, voice breaking.

Mai’s gaze drifted.

It landed on Aiko.

For a moment, there was confusion.

Then recognition.

“…The lady,” Mai whispered weakly.

Aiko leaned closer, tears dripping onto the blanket. “Yes. It’s me.”

Mai frowned faintly. “You’re crying.”

Aiko laughed softly through tears. “I cry a lot.”

Mai thought for a moment.

Then she reached out weakly.

Aiko froze.

Yuji nodded once.

Aiko gently took her daughter’s hand.

It was warm.

Real.

Mai squeezed lightly. “You stayed.”

Aiko nodded. “I’m staying.”

Mai closed her eyes again, a small smile forming.

Yuji watched them.

Something inside him loosened.

Not forgiveness.

Not yet.

But acceptance.

“You can stay,” he said quietly. “For her.”

Aiko looked up at him, disbelief and gratitude flooding her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Yuji turned toward the window, blinking hard.

“This doesn’t erase the past,” he said. “But… maybe it gives us a future.”

Aiko held Mai’s hand tighter.

For the first time in years, she wasn’t running.

She was exactly where she needed to be.