The sun hung low in the sky, with golden hues over the hilltop park as Ayaka and Takeshi arrived.
The soft rustling of leaves accompanied their footsteps as they walked through the familiar pathways.
The place looked just as it had before—serene, beautiful, untouched by the turmoil that swirled inside Ayaka.
The scent of grilled food and sweet desserts drifted from the food trucks lined up near the entrance, just like the last time she had been here with Akihiko.
"He always comes here..." Ayaka murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced around, hoping—no, praying—that somehow he'd still be here, sitting on one of the benches, lost in thought the way he always was.
Takeshi exhaled deeply, scanning the area. "If he comes here often, then the vendors must recognize him." he reasoned. "I'll ask around."
Ayaka gave him a small nod. She had no energy to respond properly.
Takeshi patted her shoulder before heading toward the food stalls, blending into the small crowd of customers.
Meanwhile, Ayaka let her feet carry her forward, up the stone steps that led to the clearing where she and Akihiko had once watched the fireworks together. Her breath hitched as she reached the spot.
It was still the same.
The open sky stretched infinitely above her, tinged in shades of orange and pink.
The wind was cool against her skin.
The faint hum of conversations and laughter surrounded her, but none of it reached her heart.
He wasn't here.
Ayaka slowly sank onto the grass, her knees pulling up to her chest.
The sun was beginning its descent beyond the horizon, its warm glow softening into dusk.
She had always loved sunsets.
But tonight, as she sat there alone, watching the golden light fade into darkness, something inside her broke.
A sharp sting in her eyes.
A warmth trailing down her cheeks.
Tears—silent, unbidden—began to fall.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves, pressing against her lips to muffle the quiet sobs that escaped.
"Why does it feel so painful to watch this alone?"
She had shared this view with him before, his quiet presence by her side, his rare, softened gaze fixed on the horizon.
She could still hear his voice in her memories, the way he had spoken so casually, yet every word had left an imprint on her heart.
And now, he is gone.
Vanished.
Erased, as if he had never existed in her life at all.
Her chest tightened with a suffocating ache.
"Akihiko..." she whispered, voice trembling while her hand reached for the necklace he gave her.
"Ayaka!"
She turned at the sound of Takeshi's voice, watching as he jogged toward her, breathless.
His expression was urgent, but as he neared and saw the tears streaking down her face, his excitement faltered.
"The vendors..." He paused, swallowing hard. "They saw him."
Ayaka's breath caught.
Takeshi knelt beside her, hesitating before continuing. "But... it was a week ago. The day he disappeared."
A fresh wave of pain slammed into her chest.
He had been here. Right here.
And yet, he had left.
Never to return.
Her gaze drifted back toward the horizon, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared beyond the edge of the earth.
Her voice came out in a whisper, raw and broken.
"I never thought watching a sunset would hurt this much."
Takeshi didn't reply. He simply knelt beside her, silent, his expression unreadable.
Then, gently, he reached out and pulled her into an embrace, his hand resting on the top of her head.
"Don't worry." he murmured, his voice soft yet firm. "We'll find him."
Ayaka clenched her fists against his shirt, her entire body trembling. "What if we can't, Takeshi?" Her voice cracked. "I—I feel like I can't do this anymore..."
Takeshi pulled back slightly, gripping her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. His usual easygoing expression was gone, replaced by something fierce.
"Listen to me." he said firmly. "Whether he comes back or not, you need to pull yourself together. Ms. Midnight doesn't break. Even the characters you write don't give up—so don't you dare start now."
His words hit her like a slap.
She stared at him, her vision blurred with tears, her lips trembling.
But the fight inside her... it was slipping.
"I've had enough for today." she finally whispered.
Takeshi let out a quiet sigh before nodding. "Alright."
Without another word, he guided her back to the car.
The drive home was silent. The weight of the day pressed heavily on them both.
But Takeshi's thoughts swirled in his mind.
The way Akihiko used to look at Ayaka...
The way he always stayed by her side...
Takeshi knew—he knew—that Akihiko wouldn't have left her.
Not unless something was forcing him to.
So why did he?
As they pulled up in front of Ayaka's apartment, she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, stepping out.
Takeshi leaned out the window. "Call me if you want to search the entire city again, alright?"
Ayaka managed a faint smile. "Thank you, Takeshi. I really appreciate everything."
He watched as she turned to leave, but just before she disappeared into the building, he called out to her.
"Ayaka!"
She turned, eyes questioning.
"I'm still cheering for you!" he said, flashing a small grin. "Be strong!"
Ayaka's chest tightened.
She nodded, then turned and walked inside.
But the moment she stepped onto her floor, her heart stopped.
Down the hall, the door to Akihiko's apartment was wide open.
Several maintenance staff walked in and out, carrying supplies.
Ayaka's pulse quickened. She hurried forward, stopping one of the workers. "What's going on here?"
The man barely glanced at her as he adjusted his cap. "We're just cleaning out this flat. The old tenant already moved out."
Her breath caught in her throat. "What...?"
Another worker walked past. Ayaka quickly stepped inside, her voice shaking. "So... all the furniture is gone?"
The worker nodded. "Yep. No one knows when he left. We just got the order to clean up since this unit will be available for viewing tomorrow."
Ayaka stood frozen.
The apartment was empty.
Not a single trace of Akihiko remained.
The furniture—gone.
The scent of coffee that always lingered in the air—gone.
The presence of the man she had come to rely on—gone.
Her knees nearly buckled.
Slowly, she walked through the hollow space, her fingers grazing the walls.
She could still see him there.
Standing by the window, hands in his pockets.
Sitting on the couch, flipping through her manuscript.
Cooking in the kitchen, a rare, small smile on his lips as he teased her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn't stop the tears from falling.
Her chest heaved, a sharp sob breaking past her lips as she turned and rushed out of the apartment, ignoring the confused looks from the workers.
She barely made it inside her own apartment before her legs gave out.
Curling up on the floor, hugging her knees, she let the sobs wrack her body.
"This is so annoying!" she cried out, her voice hoarse and broken.
She buried her face into her arms, her shoulders shaking violently.
"Akihiko... where the hell did you go?"
The silence answered her.
And for the first time, it truly felt like he was gone.
Like he had never existed at all.
Then, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She barely reacted. It wasn't the first call.
For the past few hours, her phone had been ringing nonstop, buzzing with messages and missed calls she had deliberately ignored.
She knew who it was.
And she knew what they were going to say.
Still, as if on autopilot, she reached into her pocket, pulled out the phone, and pressed it against her ear.
"Hello?" Her voice came out lifeless, void of any emotion.
"Ayaka! Finally! We've been trying to reach you for hours!"
Keiko's voice was frantic, laced with exasperation and concern.
In the background, muffled voices could be heard—Yuki was there too.
"We went to your apartment, but you weren't home! Where are you?!"
Ayaka's eyes remained fixed looking at nowhere. "Oh. Takeshi and I were driving around the city."
The other end of the line went silent for a moment before Keiko's voice returned, this time sharper, more suspicious.
"Takeshi? Mori?" she repeated in disbelief. "You mean Azrael Emberlight? What were you doing with him?"
Ayaka sighed, tilting her head back against the seat. She could already feel the lecture coming.
"I knew you guys would oppose my plan, so I asked him to help me look for Akihiko." She said it bluntly, her words carrying a finality that warned Keiko against arguing.
But Keiko was Keiko.
And she was never one to back down from a fight, especially when it concerned Ayaka's well-being.
Before she could even launch into a full-blown scolding, Yuki, who had been quietly listening in the background, placed a gentle hand on Keiko's shoulder, silencing her.
Then, her voice—calm yet firm—came through the speaker.
"So... did you find him?"
Ayaka blinked at the question, her grip tightening around her phone.
For a moment, she didn't answer.
Yuki's voice came again, gentle but insistent. "Ayaka, did you find him? Any clue, anything at all?"
"No."
The word left her lips in a whisper, barely audible, yet it carried the weight of all the disappointment, the exhaustion, the crushing pain that had been gnawing at her for days.
Silence.
Then, Keiko sighed, her voice softer this time, tinged with something close to resignation.
"Ayaka, we know how much you want to find Nakamura. We know how much this means to you." She hesitated before continuing. "But please... don't torture yourself like this. You could've updated us. We were worried sick."
For the first time, Ayaka felt something crack inside her.
She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes against the sting behind them.
She knew they were worried.
She knew they cared.
But right now, their concern felt suffocating.
"I'm sorry..." she murmured. "I appreciate how understanding you both are, but right now, I just want to be alone and sort out my thoughts."
And before they could say another word, she hung up.
The call ended with a sharp beep, and Ayaka slowly lowered the phone onto her lap, exhaling shakily.
On the other side of the call…
Keiko let out a long, frustrated sigh as she placed her phone down on the table.
"She's too stubborn…" she muttered, rubbing her temples. "If we try to tell her not to do something, she'll do the opposite just to prove a point!"
Yuki, who had been sitting beside her, simply leaned back against the couch, crossing her arms.
"Calm down, Keiko." Her voice was level, rational. "She's hurting. We need to give her time."
Keiko let out a frustrated huff. "Time won't bring Nakamura back. And in the meantime, she's tearing herself apart looking for him!"
"Maybe so." Yuki admitted. "But if we push her too much, she'll just push us away. Right now, we have to let her process this at her own pace."
For a moment, Keiko didn't reply.
Then, with another heavy sigh, she slumped back against the couch, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You're right... Let's give her some space."
But deep down, neither of them were convinced that space would be enough.
Because something about Akihiko's disappearance didn't sit right.
And they weren't the only ones who felt it.