By the time Kitagawa Ryo had composed himself, wiped away his tears, and turned to leave, he noticed the girl still standing there in a daze.
"Ai?"
Ryo was surprised. He instinctively pulled out his phone to see multiple missed calls and messages from her—all unheard because he had silenced his phone before coming here.
"Sorry, I usually mute my phone when I come here. Didn't mean to worry you."
Understanding why Hoshino Ai had come, he took a few steps forward and offered an apologetic explanation.
"Mm... Dr. Goro told me you were here. And I—I just got here."
Only when Ryo approached did Ai snap out of her trance. She tried to force her usual smile, but seeing the tear tracks still glistening on his face, she found herself unable to fake it.
Without thinking, she pulled a tissue from her bag. Before she knew it, she had bent down, clumsily attempting to wipe away the remnants of his tears.
Unusually, Ryo didn't take the tissue from her as she expected. Instead, he simply tilted his head back and let her fingers brush hesitantly across his cheeks and the corners of his eyes.
"Let's go back. The tour guide's settled, and we've got plans tomorrow."
After a long silence, Ryo finally reached out and took her wrist. He took a deep breath, his tone returning to its usual steadiness.
"Mm."
Ai responded softly. Since Ryo didn't seem inclined to elaborate, she didn't press further. Straightening up, she clasped her hands behind her back and hummed cheerfully:
"It's my first time in Miyazaki. Kinda looking forward to it."
"The scenery's nice. It's a pretty famous tourist spot, but last time I was here, I was just filming. Didn't get to explore properly."
As they made their way down the mountain path, chatting idly, the atmosphere gradually lightened.
The slope was steep, and the night had fully descended. Ai naturally reached for Ryo's hand, threading her fingers through his—palm against palm, fingers laced over his knuckles.
But in her other hand, she still clutched the damp tissue she'd used to dry his tears. Unconsciously, she tightened her grip, the moisture seeping into her skin.
Half-warm, half-cool.
The hotel they'd booked through Mr. Izaki wasn't far. After descending the mountain and walking a short distance, its outline soon came into view.
Ai had already moved their luggage into their rooms and kept the key cards safely in her bag. Bypassing the front desk, they crossed the lobby and took the stairs to the second floor.
Ryo was in Room 203, Ai in the adjacent 204—both spacious rooms with comfortable queen beds. The hotel was situated on elevated ground, and opening the windows offered a sweeping view of Miyazaki's dense forests and starry skies.
After changing into slippers, Ryo inserted the key card Ai had given him into the wall slot, activating the room's power. Warm amber light immediately enveloped him.
Having already eaten dinner and with plans for the next day, Ryo felt mentally drained. He decided to shower and turn in early.
But just as he finished washing up, changed into pajamas, and was about to climb into bed, a knock sounded at the door.
There was only one person it could be.
Sure enough, when Ryo opened the door, Hoshino Ai stood there, fresh from her own shower.
A faint mist still clung to her skin, giving her a dewy glow. Her indigo hair cascaded loosely down her back, shimmering like raven feathers under the light.
It was soft and smooth—high-quality, like fine silk—and carried the familiar scent of summer oranges. She'd been using the same shampoo for years and had brought it along even for this trip.
Without waiting for an invitation, Ai flopped onto the bed—the very bed Ryo hadn't even had a chance to lie on yet. Like an animal marking its territory, she wriggled slightly against the sheets.
"Your bed feels bigger than mine."
"Probably just your imagination. They're the same room type—should be identical."
Ryo sat down on the edge of the mattress, unfazed. Ai had made herself at home on his couch often enough during visits to his place. If she wanted to roll around on a hotel bed, he wasn't about to stop her.
"Would you tell me about her?"
"If... if it'd make you feel better."
Ai's question came out of nowhere.
"Sarina? So you weren't 'just arriving' earlier, huh?"
Ryo pressed his lips together, then let himself fall back onto the bed beside Ai, surrendering his full weight to the mattress.
As if conserving energy to speak.
Over the past few years, Ryo had come to see Ai as someone important too. So when she showed concern, he saw no reason to hide anything.
Besides, a simple online search would lay everything bare anyway.
But maybe Ai was right. Having someone willing to listen—to shoulder his burdens—might make the weight easier to bear.
So, starting from their first meeting, Ryo slowly recounted his entire story with Tendouji Sarina—from her love of Hamlet to how she'd inspired He Once Lived.
His words were disjointed, fragmented—yet detailed, tender, quiet.
Ai listened silently to the whole story. In truth, the time between Sarina's first meeting with Ryo and her own was less than two months.
A sudden bitterness welled up inside her, recalling a line from Romeo and Juliet she'd once read:
"He that is stricken blind cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost. Show me a mistress that is passing fair—what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who passed that passing fair?"
For a moment, the self-loathing and destructive urges she'd buried under layers of lies threatened to surge back.
But Ryo had just shown her his vulnerability. Two fragile people couldn't comfort each other—they'd only drown together in shared despair.
So Ai swallowed her emotions. Instead, she turned and pulled Ryo into her arms.
The pinnacle of method acting was synchronization—a two-way flow of emotion between actor and role.
Ai had once channeled her feelings for Ryo to portray Lyalya in The Forbidden Game of Youth.
But now, she was borrowing a character to express her own emotions.
Not from Hamlet, Sarina's favorite, but from another of Shakespeare's great tragedies—Macbeth.
After the witches' prophecy, Macbeth hesitated to murder his cousin, King Duncan. It was his wife, Lady Macbeth, who steeled his resolve—who smeared the king's blood on the guards' faces to frame them.
[My hands are of your color.]
"I'm really, really glad you told me all this. It feels like I finally understand you a little more."
[Unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty.]
"No matter what happens, I'll always be on your side. If you're hurting, I'll share the pain with you—just like today."
[Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care... chief nourisher in life's feast.]
"Like you said, we've got plans tomorrow. So... let's get some proper rest tonight."
[I'll stay by your side while you sleep.]
"I'll stay by your side while you sleep."
Every word dripped with affection, sweet enough to drown in unknowingly.
For the first time, the six-pointed starburst in her eyes—red and blue intertwined—pierced the abyssal darkness of Ryo's gaze. Like a distant light, traversing countless light-years, finally reaching its destination.
Unable to think. Unwilling to think.
In the end, Ryo drifted into peaceful, childlike slumber in her arms.
This was one of the rare nights since living with her brother that Kitagawa Ruby couldn't sleep.
Children were supposed to succumb easily to sleep, their bodies demanding rest by eight or nine.
But Ruby tossed and turned restlessly, like a beached fish.
Before starting kindergarten, she and Ryo had shared a bed for convenience. She'd grown accustomed to falling asleep clinging to his arm.
Ryo had noticed, of course—but he'd assumed it was just a quirk, a need to hug something to sleep. So when they transitioned to separate beds, he'd bought her an array of plush toys and body pillows.
Lately, her favorite was the Orange Bear—one of the branded merchandise sent to Ryo as their exclusive endorser. The other two gifts had been relegated to the back of the closet.
But tonight, even Orange Bear seemed to have lost its magic.
Ruby squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the large golden plush tightly.
"Onii-chan..."
When someone is missed, whether they know it or not—
They are already held in the arms of the one who yearns for them.
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Yoo guys, I am back.
Will be upload more chapters tomorrow don't worry, I promise.