The crimson moon hung over Tokyo like an open wound.
Its light wasn't gentle anymore — it was alive, pulsing with sorrow and wrath. Streets shimmered as though bleeding light, and every shadow felt heavier, denser… haunted.
Toshio stood at the center of it all, breathless, eyes locked on the glowing figure before him.
"Airi…"
Her name fell from his lips like a prayer. But the girl who stood there was no longer the Airi he remembered.
Her once-soft hair floated in strands of silver flame, and her eyes — once warm and human — now shimmered with divine coldness. Her aura was like a storm, flickering between grief and fury, the sky itself bending around her presence.
"Toshio Shinji," she said softly, her voice echoing like two people speaking at once — human and divine, love and fury. "You broke the vow."
He took a trembling step forward. "Airi, listen to me. I didn't mean—"
"You gave her my heart."
His breath caught.
"She wasn't supposed to exist," Airi whispered, her voice cracking for the briefest moment. "That girl, that… reflection. You let her feel what was mine."
Her tears glittered like falling starlight — each drop that touched the ground sent ripples of crimson across the street.
Toshio's fists tightened. "She didn't take your love, Airi. She carried it when you couldn't. She was your love."
Airi's gaze softened for a moment — and then hardened again. "Love is not meant to be split. You of all people should know that."
The wind roared, scattering leaves and broken glass through the air. Behind her, faint golden wings unfolded — not of feathers, but of pure light, trembling with unstable power.
Toshio shielded his eyes. "Stop! You're hurting yourself!"
Airi's voice shook with rage and longing. "You hurt me first."
The world around them pulsed with divine power. Streetlights burst, walls cracked, and a faint melody — the same tune they once shared beneath the first moon — played through the chaos, warped and broken.
Toshio felt something inside him shatter. He took a deep breath, his voice trembling. "If I could take the pain, I would. Every bit of it. But Airi, you have to understand — Rika didn't steal your place. She reminded me of it."
Airi's glow flickered. "Reminded you?"
"She made me remember what love feels like. What you taught me."
Her lips parted — not in anger this time, but in confusion. "Then why… does it hurt so much?"
"Because it's real," he said, stepping closer. "Because even gods bleed when they love humans too deeply."
Airi froze. Her wings trembled, dimming slightly.
And then… a faint laugh escaped her lips — broken, bitter, aching. "You always knew how to say the worst things in the best way."
Her laughter turned to sobs, and as the tears fell, the moon itself seemed to waver. "I tried so hard, Toshio. To keep you in the world of light. To make you forget the pain. But I couldn't stop loving you even after I became this."
He reached out. "Then stop fighting it. Come back to me."
She hesitated, trembling, then whispered, "I can't. Not while she exists."
"Rika?"
"She's my reflection — my human shadow. If she lives, I can never fully return."
Toshio's chest tightened. "Then take me instead. Take whatever's left of me. Just don't erase her."
Airi looked at him — really looked — and her expression broke apart. "You'd give yourself up… for a memory?"
"For love," he said.
The air stilled.
The divine storm froze mid-motion. Even the blood moon's light flickered, as though the heavens themselves held their breath.
Then, softly, Airi whispered, "You haven't changed."
She floated closer — her hand hovering just inches from his cheek. "Always trying to save others, even when you're the one bleeding."
He smiled faintly. "Guess that's what you loved about me."
Her expression softened. "It was also what destroyed us."
A single tear rolled down her face. "If you had just forgotten me, Toshio… you could have lived peacefully."
He shook his head. "Peace isn't worth living without you."
Airi's light faltered again, her form flickering between divine and human. For a split second, he saw the real her — trembling, crying, reaching for him.
"Toshio…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "If I come back… she'll fade. Is that what you want?"
He hesitated — the silence crushing.
Rika's laughter echoed faintly in his memory. Her voice, her warmth, her tears.
And Airi — his first love, his goddess, the girl who once promised eternity beneath a sky full of stars.
He took a deep breath, his heart splitting in two.
"…I want both of you to live."
Airi's eyes widened. "That's impossible."
"Then I'll make it possible," he said, voice trembling but resolute. "Even if I have to defy heaven itself."
She stared at him — stunned. Then, slowly, a tearful smile touched her lips. "You really would, wouldn't you?"
He nodded. "You already know the answer."
Airi closed her eyes, her aura flaring once more. "Then let me see if your resolve can reach the heavens."
Her wings spread wide — not in fury this time, but in sorrowful acceptance. The moonlight bent toward her, and a red sigil formed in the sky — ancient, divine, and unbearably beautiful.
The world trembled as her voice echoed:
"If love defies divinity, then let divinity test love."
A crimson beam of light struck the ground between them, splitting the street apart. Toshio staggered, the ground shaking under his feet.
He could hear a heartbeat — two heartbeats — merging, clashing, echoing.
And then he saw her.
Rika — standing at the edge of the light, her body flickering like a dying flame.
"Toshio!" she cried, reaching out. "Don't let her take me!"
Airi turned sharply, her voice trembling. "You shouldn't be here!"
Rika glared back, defiant even as her form wavered. "If I fade, it'll be on my own terms — not yours!"
The two girls — goddess and reflection — faced each other across the bloodlit street.
Airi's divine tears met Rika's human ones, and for a moment, it was impossible to tell which were real.
Toshio stood between them, torn apart by love itself.
"Stop!" he shouted. "Both of you! This isn't what love is supposed to be!"
But neither heard him.
Airi's light flared crimson. Rika's human warmth glowed gold. The two auras collided — divine and mortal, love and echo — and the Blood Moon wailed above them like a mourning god.
The sound that followed wasn't thunder. It was heartbreak.
And when the light faded, Toshio was on his knees, trembling, his hands reaching out toward the empty air where both girls had stood.
Gone.
Both of them.
Only the Blood Moon remained — weeping red across the silent city.