Chapter 35: The Persistent Scent and the Blank Page

Chapter 35: The Persistent Scent and the Blank Page

✿———✦———✿

“I finally realized that the song of the summer flowers can’t save me anymore...”

The morning arrived at seven o'clock, but as expected, the sun had yet to show its face. This strangeness had become a daily routine for us. Yorishiro and Mitsuki were still struggling with sleep after staying up all night, while I found that Kazuaki was not in the room.

I stepped slowly toward the balcony, the cold air greeting my skin. There sat Kazuaki, silently staring at the dark sky, accompanied by Yukifuyu who sat beside him. Yukifuyu’s face looked worried, as if there was a burden in her heart she wanted to express, yet she could only gaze at Kazuaki, who seemed so far out of reach.

I watched them from a distance, trying to sense the feelings swirling in Yukifuyu’s heart. After a few moments, I heard Yukifuyu begin to speak, her voice soft yet filled with deep emotion.

“You know, Kazuaki-san...” Yukifuyu continued with an awkward laugh, “I have admired you for a long time, since the Christmas festival. Oh, right... you were always so serious, so brilliant, even if you were a bookworm. When you became the CTO, I was still an intern... but you were the most passionate. You always compared your life to a storyboard, remember?” Yukifuyu smiled slightly. “As if you wanted everything to go according to the plan you made.”

Kazuaki remained silent, seemingly still trying to understand every word Yukifuyu spoke.

“You surely don’t remember, do you?” Yukifuyu continued, her voice sounding bittersweet. “I interned at the company when you were the CTO. You worked so hard, always focused, to the point that I couldn't imagine what was inside your head. The Taiyoutenshi animation project... you really put your whole life there, as if that world was a part of you.”

“I know you don’t remember everything, Kazuaki-san,” Yukifuyu began, her voice gentle yet full of feeling. “But, I remember everything. Every second we ever spent together during college, when we interned together, when we worked on the Taiyoutenshi animation project... everything.”

Kazuaki did not respond, his eyes still fixed on the sky, as if searching for something lost. However, Yukifuyu continued to speak, even as her voice grew weaker.

“At that time, I really liked you. I liked you very much, Kazuaki-san. But I knew you would never be able to return my feelings. You and Chinatsu-san... even though I knew my feelings wouldn't possibly be returned, still... it felt painful.”

Her eyes were tearful, yet Yukifuyu kept smiling, a smile that held many unspoken things. Time seemed to stop as Yukifuyu looked down, holding back tears that almost fell. “Now, I am engaged to Yorishiro... but that feeling is still there, even if faint. You are my first love, Kazuaki-san.”

She laughed slightly, awkwardly, trying to shift her mood. “But that was then. You don’t need to think about it. Now, what matters is that you must be able to remember everything again, especially your memories with Chinatsu-san.”

At that moment, I felt a burning jealousy. However, my body felt heavy, as if I couldn't move. Yukifuyu suddenly approached Kazuaki, gently stroking his hair, then lifted his chin. A quick kiss landed on his lips. My heart shattered instantly. I wanted to scream, to be angry, but something held me back. In my heart, I knew Kazuaki was no longer mine as he used to be.

Yukifuyu snapped out of it, her face pale and full of regret. “I'm sorry,” she said shyly, then hurried to turn away to leave. However, Kazuaki held her back—apologizing in a low voice. Yukifuyu only smiled bitterly, trying to show that everything was fine.

“It's okay. Seriously.” Yukifuyu quickly left him.

I stood in my place, too shaken to act. Something in me felt sorry for Yukifuyu, but on the other hand, I was angry at this situation. As Yukifuyu returned to the house, Kazuaki also walked away, seeking a place to be alone again.

Yorishiro, who apparently saw the incident from afar, only smiled thinly. “I didn't see anything,” he said half-jokingly. “It’s nice to be Kazuaki-san, everyone likes him. It's a shame he doesn't remember anything...”

I asked, “Why aren't you angry?”

Yorishiro shrugged. “I don't know, we are not really serious. And maybe because after losing Kazuaki-san, I just want to give Yukifuyu space. Besides, it won't change anything. On the contrary, I wonder, why aren't you angry?”

I fell silent, not knowing what to say. Of course, I was jealous. However, that feeling was mixed with the realization that my relationship with Kazuaki had changed. But I will not give up. I will bring back all the memories that ever existed.

✿———✦———✿

The atmosphere shifted as Yukifuyu entered the kitchen to prepare breakfast, unaware that I was watching her from the doorway. Genki followed shortly after, her presence light and airy, oblivious to the heavy aura hanging between Yukifuyu and me.

“Let me help with the soup, Yuki,” I said, stepping into the room. My voice was steady, but the tension was thick enough to taste.

Yukifuyu flinched slightly, her hands pausing over the cutting board. She didn't look at me directly, her focus remaining on the vegetables. “Thank you, Chinatsu-san. That would be very kind of you.”

We worked in a silence that was far from peaceful. It was a cold war fought with the rhythmic chopping of knives and the bubbling of water. Yukifuyu’s movements were graceful, yet there was a new, subtle determination in the way she handled the ingredients.

“Kazuaki-san... he is like a blank page now, isn't he?” Yukifuyu said softly, her voice barely audible over the stove. “It’s strange to think that all the history we know about him doesn't exist in his mind anymore. It makes me realize that today is all he has. He’s no longer burdened by the heat of a past he cannot see.”

I gripped the ladle a little tighter, the steam from the broth hitting my face like a challenge. “History doesn't just disappear because someone forgets it, Yuki. The ink is still there, even if the page looks white. The sun might be hidden behind the clouds right now, but that doesn't mean it stopped burning. Summer always leaves its mark on the earth, whether the earth remembers it or not.”

Yukifuyu finally looked at me, her eyes soft but unwavering, reflecting the calm of a winter morning. “Perhaps. But if the page is empty, it means we can write something new, doesn't it? Something that isn't weighed down by the past. Sometimes, the sun is just too bright, Chinatsu-san. It blinds people. I think... I want to help him find peace in this new chapter. A cool, quiet peace where he can finally breathe without being scorched by expectations.”

I turned the burner up slightly, the soup beginning to boil more aggressively. “Peace can often feel like isolation, Yuki. Winter is beautiful, but it’s also lonely and dormant. People need the warmth of summer to actually grow. Without those memories—without that 'heat'—he’s just surviving in the cold. Are you sure you're helping him find peace, or are you just trying to keep him in a season where you feel more comfortable?”

Yukifuyu didn't flinch this time. She placed the sliced carrots into a bowl with perfect precision. “Growth can happen in the quiet too, Chinatsu-san. Even under the snow, things are preparing to bloom in a way they never could in the middle of a frantic July. I’m not keeping him anywhere. I am simply offering him a soft place to land while your sun is away.”

Genki, who was busy arranging napkins, looked up with a curious tilt of her head. She paused, her gaze darting between my tightened knuckles and Yukifuyu’s overly-calm posture. The air in the kitchen felt heavy, vibrating with an energy that even someone as detached as Genki couldn't ignore.

“Ummm, guys...” Genki started, her voice sounding small in the vast tension. “Are we writing a book? Because the way you're talking... it feels like you're fighting over who gets to hold the pen. And the kitchen feels very... sharp. Like the air is made of tiny needles.”

She looked at the soup, then at the vegetables, her eyes widening as she finally started to realize that we weren't just talking about cooking methods. “I think Kazuaki-san would like a story about the stars. He spends a lot of time looking at them lately. They don't belong to summer or winter... they just stay there, regardless of the season.”

Yukifuyu offered a gentle, soft smile to Genki, her demeanor returning to that of a poised, supportive friend. “In a way, Genki-san. We are all helping him find his way back.”

I looked at Yukifuyu, seeing the true resolution in her eyes. She wasn't being cruel or arrogant; she was simply being honest with her heart for the first time. She was ready to occupy the space I had left behind, filling his “blank page” with her own quiet melody. And I absolutely hated that. I hated how reasonable she sounded, and I hated that for the first time in my life, my history with Kazuaki felt like a ghost story rather than a living reality.

In another room, Kazuaki and his team were still busy with research that seemed endless. The computer screen light illuminated their serious faces, tracing every remaining trace of data. Meanwhile, in the dining room, the atmosphere was quite different.

I was busy arranging plates on the table, slightly sarcastically commenting on the pile of food that might be too much. “This is too much, are you guys sure it’ll be finished?” I said while glancing at Momiji who had just arrived.

Momiji immediately asked Genki, who stood stiffly at the corner of the table. “Hey, Genki, what were you guys talking about earlier? Why is the atmosphere so tense?”

Genki only shrugged while staring blankly at us.

“Oh, this is just Yuki starting again with her season debate,” I said, my eyes narrowing slightly, a sign that the conversation had already drained my patience.

Yukifuyu, with a calm smile and graceful demeanor, looked at me. “Of course winter is the best season after autumn, Chinatsu-san. The cool air, the beautiful snow, and the peaceful atmosphere. What can match that beauty?”

I snorted lightly. “Beauty? Have you forgotten how cold it is? I’d rather have the blazing sun than shiver under layers of thick jackets. And summer... well, I think summer and autumn actually complement each other. So, if you say autumn is the enemy of summer, I have to disagree.”

Genki, listening to the conversation, frowned as if trying to understand our arguments. “Eh... but, aren't summer and autumn like... siblings who get along? I mean, neither one is truly better, right?”

Momiji glanced at Genki with a look half-confused, half-amused. “Genki... if you don’t understand, it’s better to stay quiet. Don’t make it more complicated.”

Yukifuyu laughed softly, graceful as always. “I don’t hate summer, Chinatsu-san, it’s just that summer is so... excessive. The heat pierces the skin, sweat is abundant, and there isn't a bit of coolness. It’s very different from the gentle and colorful autumn.”

I folded my arms across my chest, challenging her. “Excessive? Oh, so you’re saying those of us who like sunlight are excessive people? Sunlight gives energy, makes us feel alive. Besides, winter is just a reminder that what was warm and beautiful has long since ended.”

Yukifuyu remained smiling without being offended in the least, her voice remaining calm. “Perhaps for some people. But for others, autumn is a beautiful transition to something more soothing. Like the end of a beautiful story that brings us to the peace of a winter night.”

I prepared to reply again, but Momiji had already snorted in annoyance, realizing this debate would only drag on. In a tone half-angry yet still adorable, she said, “Enough, enough, you two don’t need to argue about seasons! After all, we’ll go through all of them every year anyway! Let’s call the others, let’s eat before this food gets cold!”

Genki, who had been silent, only nodded with an expression of total confusion. “Oh, right... eat... alright. I’ll call the others.”

As Genki walked out to call the others, Momiji shook her head, clearly annoyed but also unable to hold back a smile seeing Genki’s innocence. “If this person wasn't here, your debate would never end, you know?”

Yukifuyu and I looked at each other, small smiles appearing at the corners of our lips. Perhaps this debate didn't need to end with a win or a loss—but with a delicious meal and laughter at the dining table.

✿———✦———✿

Dinner that night felt heavier than usual, not because of the food, but because of the atmosphere hanging in the air. Everyone gathered at the large table, eating and making light conversation. But my mind kept drifting back to Yukifuyu. After our sharp exchange in the kitchen, I couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said regarding Kazuaki.

She appeared calm at the corner of the table, as usual. Unfazed by the surrounding chatter, she remained cold and undisturbed. It made me resentful. How could she be so detached when we were talking about someone so central to our lives? Kazuaki, who had been the very fabric of my existence.

I glanced at Kazuaki, who was eating casually across from me. Suddenly, he let out a small, muffled cough as if he had choked. By reflex, I immediately reached my glass toward him.

“Take this, drink,” I said quickly.

However, before my glass reached him, Yukifuyu moved at the exact same moment. She extended her glass just as I had. We both froze, our hands suspended in mid-air, the glasses nearly clinking together. Our gazes met, and for a second, the silent war we had been waging in the kitchen flared up again in the middle of the dining room.

Kazuaki, oblivious to the storm, looked confused. He glanced at my glass, then at hers, and in his hesitation, he reached out and grabbed the glass belonging to Mitsuki, who was sitting right next to him.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Mitsuki barked, his face twisting in annoyance.

The clatter of silverware stopped. A suffocating silence fell over the table as everyone stared at us. My face burned with embarrassment, and I saw Yukifuyu slowly withdraw her hand, her expression turning into a mask of polite regret.

Suddenly, a palm slammed against the table, making the plates rattle.

“That is enough!” Ageha snapped, her voice sharp and trembling with genuine rage. She glared at Yukifuyu and then at me, her eyes flashing with contempt. “I have sat through this entire meal watching the two of you throw pathetic barbs and fight over a glass of water like children. It’s disgusting.”

“Ageha, wait—” I tried to speak, but she cut me off with a snarl.

“No, you wait, Chinatsu. And you too, Yukifuyu,” Ageha hissed, standing up. “Do you realize why we are all here? We aren't here to play house or compete for the attention of a man who doesn't even remember his own name. We are here because the world is literally coming apart at the seams. The sun is broken, Kagechi is playing God with our lives, and Tsukuyomi is breathing down our necks.”

She swept her gaze across the table, silencing even Kazuaki. “There is an anomaly that could collapse the timeline, and you two are treating this like a high school rivalry. If you can’t focus on why we’re actually in this mansion, then leave. We have work to do, and I won't let your petty cortisol-driven drama get in the way of our survival. Focus on the mission, or stay out of the lab.”

Ageha didn't wait for an answer. She grabbed her plate and walked away, leaving the rest of us in a stunned, shamed silence. I pulled my glass back and stared at my plate, unable to look at anyone. Yukifuyu remained still, her head slightly bowed, though her face remained unreadable.

✿———✦———✿

An hour later, we returned to the research room. The sterile white neon lights felt colder than before. Kazuaki sat at a separate desk, sifting through old documents, trying to piece together an identity he no longer felt he owned.

Yukifuyu and I ended up at the same long table, though we kept a wide distance between us. The sting of Ageha’s words was still fresh, forcing a professional, albeit icy, focus.

“Kazuaki is not the only anomaly,” Yukifuyu finally spoke, her voice flat and strictly professional. “For a long time, we’ve focused on him as the only one crossing the boundaries of time. But what about the others? Those chosen by Kagechi? Like Yorishiro’s suspicion regarding Enji... who has gone completely silent.”

I paused, looking up from my screen. Her point was valid, steering us toward the larger conspiracy. “Kagechi chose them for a reason. He’s the Arbiter from the North Star. He’s supposed to judge souls, not give them second chances or move them like pieces on a board.”

“And Tsukuyomi... he hates that interference,” Yukifuyu continued, her eyes fixed on the ancient manuscript. “This isn't just about a man losing his memory. This is about a rivalry between gods. Kagechi plays with fate, and Tsukuyomi tries to enforce the boundaries of the moon’s cycle. Kazuaki is just a pawn caught in the crossfire.”

I nodded slowly, the weight of the situation finally overshadowing my personal jealousy. “So Tsukuyomi isn't just after Kazuaki. He’s after anyone who violates the natural flow of time. Enji might be in the same danger.”

Yukifuyu looked at me, her gaze steady. “Exactly. This is a personal war between Kagechi and Tsukuyomi. Kazuaki is the side effect.”

“Then we have to find the truth before the war consumes him,” I whispered, turning back to my monitor.

Yukifuyu gave a short, sharp nod. We had found a temporary, fragile common ground. The battle between the gods had begun, and we were the only ones left to find the cracks in their game.