The sea growls under the ship as dawn breaks, a thin blade of light cutting the horizon. I stand at the rail, breath sharp in my chest. Rose is beside me, arms wrapped around herself, shaking hard.
She's not built for cold.
I am. Unfortunately.
"You're freezing," I say.
"No, just… a little…" Her voice trembles. Her smile is weak. She wants to look fine. She's not.
I take off my cloak and drape it over her shoulders. Her body goes stiff. When I pull her closer—because the wind is brutal—her breath catches against me.
"Just stay warm," I say.
"…You're too close," she whispers.
"The only option."
She goes quiet.
The sun climbs. A thin line of gold spreads over the water.
"Hiro," she says, "there's something you need to know before we meet my uncle."
"About what?"
"The Sun and the Moon. About the crystal inside you."
I stop breathing. She starts explaining.
A war.
A god's punishment.
Lucifer condemned.
The Moon slain.
The crystal falling, lost.
A power never meant for humans.
"And now it's in you," she says softly. "The next vessel. The next target everyone will hunt."
She looks at me. Her fear isn't for herself—
it's for me.
"Don't look at me like that," I say.
"Like what?"
"Like I matter."
She freezes.
Breakfast passes in silence. The canned food she brought tastes normal, but my stomach rejects it. Guilt tightens every time she forces herself to eat just so I don't eat alone.
When she starts cleaning up, her hands shake—not from cold, but from something she's holding back.
"Rose."
"Hm?" Her answer is quick.
"I'm a burden."
She pauses.
Then she shakes her head.
"No. I chose this. I started this."
"That's the problem," I say.
Her eyes widen. The can in her hand stops moving. The wind tugs her hair, but she doesn't look away.
"So… you don't want me here?" she asks softly.
"That's not what I said."
"This is," I whisper.
I lift my shirt. The long wound from chest to waist is stitched over and over—dozens, maybe hundreds of times.
"Hiro—are you hurting?" She reaches for me.
I dodge her hand before she touches my chest.
She stares—hurt.
"You act like I'm a threat," she says quietly.
"You don't understand what's inside me."
"And you don't understand what you are to me."
Her words hit harder than the cold wind. I'm the one who looks away first.
Rose listens like every word I say is a thread tethering me to her. Her hope is reckless. Her closeness dangerous. For a moment… I let her wrap the bandage around my wound.
"Hooaammn." She yawns while cleaning up the cans and bottles, packing her bag and things. Then she sits and leans against the ship beside me.
"I'm so sleepy, Hiro."
Her head drops onto my shoulder.
"Hiro," she murmurs, voice drifting,
"I hope I dream of you."
When she finally falls asleep on my shoulder, saying my name, something tightens in my chest—hard, enough to steal my breath.
My chest throbs again.
The wound pulls open.
The wind roars along the deck.
I look up—white clouds in a blue sky, a road I never chose, and a girl leaning on me with all her trust.