The morning light slid softly through the curtains, painting the room in gentle gold. Toshio blinked awake, disoriented. His body felt heavy, like he'd been asleep for days. Then he turned—and froze.
Rika lay beside him on the floor, still unconscious, her hair scattered across his arm like threads of silver. Her breathing was shallow but steady. The glow from the charm on his wrist had dimmed, leaving faint crimson traces that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
"Rika," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Hey, wake up."
Her eyelids fluttered. For a moment, her expression softened, and she murmured something too faint to catch. Then her lashes lifted, revealing eyes that shimmered faintly with blue and gold.
"Toshio…" Her voice was barely audible. "Did you… see her?"
He nodded slowly. "I did. Airi. She tried to speak, but I—"
"She said… to protect me, didn't she?"
He stared, shocked. "How did you—?"
Rika smiled faintly. "Because I felt it too."
She sat up, wincing as she touched her head. The air between them grew thick with unspoken words. The world outside was peaceful—the hum of cicadas, the faint rustle of trees—but Toshio could feel something changing.
"Rika," he said finally, "I need you to tell me the truth. Who are you really?"
She looked down, her hands clutching the hem of her skirt. "Would you believe me if I said I don't completely know?"
"Try me."
Her lips trembled. "When I was born into this world, I had fragments—memories that weren't mine. Laughter, tears, faces I'd never seen before. But one memory burned brighter than the rest… yours."
Toshio's pulse quickened.
"I thought I was crazy," she continued, "until the day I dreamed of a girl who looked exactly like me. She whispered your name over and over. Toshio Shinji. I didn't understand who she was… until I found the diary."
She pulled something from her bag—a small, weathered notebook. Toshio recognized the handwriting instantly. Airi's.
"She wrote about you," Rika said, flipping it open. "About how your smile made her want to believe in tomorrow again. About the promise under the stars. About how, if she ever disappeared, her heart would find a way back to you."
Rika looked up, tears trembling in her eyes. "Toshio… what if that heart became me?"
The room fell silent. Toshio could only stare.
It sounded impossible. Ridiculous. Yet everything—the dreams, the charm, the warmth when she touched him—fit together too perfectly.
He stepped closer. "You're saying Airi's soul… lives in you?"
She shook her head slowly. "Not her soul. Just… the part that loved you the most."
His breath caught.
"The rest of her," Rika whispered, "is still trapped. And I think—no, I feel—she's using me as the bridge. Every time I dream with you, she gets closer. But it's hurting both of us."
Toshio's hands clenched at his sides. "Then we'll stop it. I won't let you suffer because of her."
She smiled faintly. "You'd protect me even if I told you I'm just a shadow?"
He met her gaze. "If that shadow carries her heart… then maybe I've been loving the wrong way all along."
Her eyes widened. "Toshio…"
Before either could speak, the charm on his wrist pulsed again—faint but insistent. Rika gasped, clutching her chest.
"She's calling me," she whispered. "Airi—she's… she's awake."
He grabbed her shoulders. "What do you mean awake?"
Rika's voice shook. "She's breaking through the boundary between dreams and reality. If she succeeds, she'll take back everything that belongs to her—memories, emotions… even me."
Toshio's stomach twisted. "And what happens to you?"
Rika's lips curved into a sad smile. "I fade. Like a dream that's no longer needed."
"No," he said sharply. "I won't let that happen."
"Toshio—"
"I won't!" His voice cracked. "I already lost her once. I'm not losing you too."
Rika stared at him, eyes wide, trembling. Then, softly, she asked, "Why are you saying it like that?"
He hesitated. His throat was dry. "…Because when I look at you, I don't just see her anymore. I see you."
The words hung between them, fragile as glass.
Rika's cheeks flushed pink. She laughed quietly, though her voice trembled. "You're terrible, you know that? Saying things like that to a girl who might not even exist tomorrow."
He stepped closer, his hand brushing her cheek. "Then let me make today real."
Her eyes widened. "Toshio…"
He leaned forward slowly. For a moment, their foreheads touched, and everything else fell away—the ticking clock, the soft wind, the world outside. There was only them.
Her lips trembled. "You shouldn't…"
"Tell me to stop," he whispered.
But she didn't.
Instead, she reached up and kissed him.
It was soft at first—hesitant, unsure—but it deepened quickly, fueled by fear and longing. Her hand curled against his chest, his fingers tangling in her hair. It felt wrong and right all at once, like two halves of a song finding harmony again.
When they finally pulled apart, her eyes glistened with tears. "I shouldn't have done that," she whispered.
"Why?"
"Because it'll make it harder to say goodbye."
He swallowed hard. "Then don't."
Rika smiled sadly, pressing a hand to his chest. "Toshio… I don't think I'm meant to stay. But before I go, I want to see her smile one last time."
She stood, walking toward the window. The sunlight fell over her, painting her in gold. "Promise me something," she said softly. "If she comes back… don't forget me."
He took a deep breath, fighting the ache in his chest. "I couldn't, even if I tried."
Rika turned, her hair glowing faintly in the light. "You always say the worst things in the best way, Shinji."
She smiled—and for a split second, he saw both Airi and Rika in her eyes. Two souls. One heart.
And then, outside, a crimson streak tore through the clouds. The Blood Moon was rising again.
Rika looked up, her voice trembling. "She's here."
The charm burned against Toshio's wrist. The air thickened, shimmering with ghostly light. A figure began to form in the center of the room — faint, radiant, trembling.
Airi.
But her expression wasn't gentle this time. It was pained, fractured.
"Toshio…" she whispered. "You've gone too far."
Rika gasped, clutching her head. "No—wait—don't—"
Airi's light flared, filling the room with searing brilliance. Toshio reached for Rika, but their hands barely touched before the world split in two.
And in that last instant, before the light consumed them both, Rika smiled — a sad, beautiful smile.
"Even if I disappear… remember this warmth."
Then she was gone.