Sakura lay still, pretending to be asleep so Angus wouldn't notice. Her mind drifted to thoughts of tomorrow — the journey ahead, the pieces of the tablet they still had to find. She imagined the path they'd take through the regions, the risks, the quiet hope of what they might uncover.
But then, from the other side of the room, something broke the silence. A heavy breath. A rustle. Metal clinking softly against metal.
Angus.
His breathing was sharp, unsteady. She could hear his body shifting, tossing on the hard floor. Low groans escaped his throat, as if he were calling out for help from somewhere far away.
She opened her eyes.
Down below her bed, Angus was curled on his side, soaked in sweat. His body twitched and twisted, rolling back and forth like he was fighting off something in a dream. It looked more like a battle than sleep.
Sakura didn't know what to do — all she could do was lie there, frozen, watching him struggle in the dark. But then, something inside her shifted.
Instinct.
The same instinct Angus had when he saved her.
She threw her blanket off and slid quietly to the floor. Her bare feet touched the cold metal, and she crept closer until she stood above him — pale, sweating, lost in some invisible nightmare. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his chest rising and falling like he was drowning.
Kneeling beside him, she reached out and pressed her palm gently to his forehead.
It was burning. Like he had a fever.
"Angus..." she whispered, leaning in close to his ear. "Angus…"
She tried again, just above a whisper — careful not to wake Cristalle nearby — but he didn't stir. He didn't even flinch. It was like he was trapped, locked in place, bound by something far beyond the physical.
Sakura sat beside him, heart heavy. If she couldn't wake him, maybe she could calm him.
She ran her hand along his arm — slowly, softly — brushing up and down, hoping it would soothe whatever torment he was trapped in. Then she reached under the makeup dresser nearby, grabbing a spare rag and dabbing the sweat from his forehead, wiping it away as gently as she could.
Her eyes lingered on his face. Even twisted in pain, there was something fragile about him. Something that made her chest ache. She had only known him for a short time, but the bond between them already ran deep — deeper than she could explain. She meant what she said: she would lay her life down for this man.
So she leaned down, bent her back, and brought herself to his level.
Then, with a soft breath, she kissed his forehead — a small, warm press of lips, fleeting but full of meaning.
Her heart thudded, quick and hard against her ribs. As she gazed down at his closed eyes and trembling, sweat-soaked body, a strange warmth bloomed in her chest. It spread through her limbs like quiet fire — a mix of fear, care, and something deeper she couldn't name.
She continued to stroke his arm slowly, gently. But nothing changed. He stayed locked in that nightmare, unreachable, lost in some shadow she couldn't touch.
After a long, quiet moment, Sakura stood. She returned to her bed and lay there — not sleeping, just listening. The groans didn't stop. His voice cracked in the dark, calling out, wounded and afraid.
And then—
Angus screamed.
Sakura shot up, her whole body jerking with the sound. Her heart slammed against her chest, hands trembling from the sudden jolt.
She turned sharply, eyes wide. Angus sat upright on the floor, his body stiff, his breaths ragged. He looked like he'd seen a ghost — eyes wide, unfocused, darting around the room. The fear on his face was unmistakable.
His shoulders rose and fell in quick, shallow heaves, and for a moment, he didn't even seem to see her. Just stared into something that wasn't there — something still clinging to him from the dark.
"Are you alright?" Sakura asked, her voice soft but shaky.
"I… I don't know," Angus whispered, still catching his breath.
"I was in a dream. And there was a woman… in a red dress. But she wasn't just any woman."
He paused, staring at the floor as if the memory was still unfolding in front of him.
"She didn't look real — but she felt real. Like she was really there. Like I could reach out and touch her."
He swallowed hard. "Her face was perfect. Too perfect. No scars, no flaws... like it was carved from something divine."
"And her eyes…" He trailed off, voice barely audible now. "They were black. Not just dark — black like a void. Like looking into a black hole."
Sakura layed on her bed, slowly turning onto her side to face Angus.
She took a deep, steadying breath.
"I'll always be here for you, Angus," she said, voice calm but certain. "Every nightmare. Every fall. I'll be here—not moving an inch."
Angus's body softened. The tension in his shoulders eased. He let out a long breath, as if releasing something he'd been holding in too long. But still… he didn't fully surrender to her words. Doubt flickered in his eyes, the kind born not from her but from within.
"Thank you, Sakura," he murmured, then slowly laid back onto the hard metal floor.
Above them, Cristalle had watched it all—from the very beginning. She hadn't spoken, just observed.
'She really does like that guy,' she thought. 'And... I see why.'
But then she noticed Angus waiting.
He glanced once at Sakura—her chest rising and falling in peaceful sleep. Then he folded his blanket into a neat square. Quietly, he pulled a crumpled napkin from his pocket and dug into one of the makeup drawers for a pen. He scribbled something down, hand trembling just slightly.
From her height, Cristalle couldn't see what he wrote. But she saw the tear slip down his cheek before he wiped it away and stepped out of the tent.
Cristalle descended the bunk ladder without a sound. She followed him, her bare feet soft against the cool metal.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
Angus didn't turn. Just kept walking into the flickering hallway.
"I'm leaving," he said.
"Why? I thought you were going with Sakura."
He exhaled deeply.
"It's better this way."
"But she wants to go with you."
He stopped.
"I know," he said. "But I can't let her. I won't put her in any more danger."
Cristalle let out a short, dry laugh. "You don't get it. She's going to follow you. No matter what you do. No matter where you go, she'll try to catch up."
"Then don't let her," Angus said, his voice low. "Keep her here."
Cristalle recoiled slightly. "You're telling me to force her to stay?"
"Yes. It's the only way." He turned his head just slightly, not enough to face her. "I'm human, Cristalle. I'm hunted every day. I can't have her die because of me."
A silence hung between them, heavy and pulsing.
"Please," he said again. "Just keep her safe."
Cristalle looked away. "I'll try… but don't count on it."
"Thank you," he muttered, his voice thick, eyes watering though he refused to let them fall again. Then he turned away fully and kept walking.
The hallway reeked of burnt oil. Lights flickered above him like ghosts. His boots echoed as he walked, each step dragging memory behind it—Sakura's smile at the ramen shop, her soft voice, her warmth.
I had to do it. I have to do it alone.
Then—
"ANGUSSS!"
The scream tore through the silence like a blade.
But he didn't stop. Didn't look back.
Cristalle had failed to hold her. Sakura tore through the tent flap, face streaked with tears, legs stumbling forward, every part of her shaking as though her soul had been ripped open.
"Let me go!" she screamed, fighting Cristalle's grip. Her whole body thrashed, desperate, like she was trying to claw her way back into something already slipping away. "Please—don't go, Angus!" Her voice cracked. "Please!"
In the center of her eyes, a faint glow bloomed—soft cherry blossom light, pulsing like the last breath of spring. It wasn't just sadness. It was despair. Pure, raw and untamed.
Her sobs were violent now. "Please don't leave me! I need you—I need you!"
Angus's steps slowed for a breath—but never stopped.
Every word hit like a shot. Plasma fired against his spine. His hands clenched, jaw tight, breath shallow.
Don't look back. Don't look back.
'I want to go back. I really do.'
'I want to run to her and say I'm sorry. I want to hold her until it stops hurting.'
But I can't. I just… can't.
Sakura's cries grew distant. The hallway seemed to stretch longer with every step. Her voice became echoes. Still sharp. Still piercing.
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a cigarette. Lit it with shaking hands. The smoke steadied him, barely.
And then—
Silence.
Her voice had faded.
But the echo?
It stayed.
He continued toward the elevator doors, still huffing slow drags from the lit cigarette. Smoke curled from his lips, vanishing into the cold air. He raised a shaky hand and pressed the button.
Clang.
Clang.
The old machinery groaned to life, echoing through the silent hall.
As he waited, he stared back at the open base—dim lights spilling out into the dark corridor. His eyes drifted toward the tent. Toward where she was.
Sakura.
The urge to turn back clawed at him. To run. To tell her he didn't mean it. That he couldn't do this without her.
But he caught the thought before it could bloom. Smothered it. Forced it down—deep into the corners of his mind where he hid things he couldn't afford to feel.
Errrrhhhhh.
The elevator rattled into place. The doors slid open with a metallic hiss.
Angus took one last glance over his shoulder. Just a flick of the eyes.
Then, in a swift motion, he turned and stepped inside—before the ache had a chance to pull him back.
The doors shut behind him with a final, hollow thud.
Sakura still sobbed from Angus's sudden departure, her body trembling in shock and disbelief. Part of her waited—hoped—for him to come back. But deep down, she knew he wouldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Her swollen eyes drifted to the small napkin resting on the edge of the makeup dresser. Folded neatly, but trembling slightly in the faint airflow of the room. She reached for it with shaky fingers. The handwriting was rough, almost unreadable. She read it aloud, barely above a whisper:
"Sorry, Sakura. I have to go.
I loved our time together, truly.
But the road ahead is too dangerous for you.
I can't let you come with me.
You've helped me more than you know, and I thank you for that.
But my future… It's something I have to face alone.
This isn't goodbye forever.
When I find my true power—
I'll come back."