I shook my head, disappointment settling deep in my chest.
I was angry at him—no, more than that. I was tired. Tired of always being the one left in the dark. I wanted him to tell me what was really going on, to stop hiding behind vague warnings and excuses. But he never did. It was always the same answer.
This is not the right time.
I felt like a fool—constantly putting myself in danger, constantly sensing that there was something crucial I needed to know, while he stood there, watching, protecting, but never trusting me with the truth.
"I really don't understand you, Sailor," I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to stay composed. "I have the right to know the truth if this is connected to my life. Don't make me look like an idiot."
After saying those words, I turned and walked away.
The tears came immediately. I cried as I walked, not knowing where else to pour out everything I was feeling. I heard him calling my name behind me, but I didn't stop. I didn't listen.
Then, in a single instant, everything changed.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me back—straight into his arms.
His embrace was tight, desperate. I could feel his heart pounding wildly against my chest, fast and uneven, like it was afraid of breaking.
"Please," he said, his voice cracking. "Don't be angry at me. I—I can't handle it if something happens to you, Xanthe. I won't survive making the same mistake again."
My brows furrowed.
"Again?" I pulled back just enough to look at him. He froze, realization flashing across his face. "Did we… meet before, Sailor?"
His entire body went rigid.
I felt his arms tighten around me, as if letting go meant losing me forever.
For a moment, silence stretched between us—heavy, suffocating, filled with everything he wasn't saying.
"Xanthe…" he whispered, exhausted. Slowly, he loosened his grip, but his hands remained on my shoulders. They were trembling—something I had never seen before.
"Don't ask that," he pleaded. "Not because I don't want to answer… but because I'm afraid of what the answer might be."
That hurt more than I expected.
"So it's true," I said softly. "You really are hiding something from me." I smiled bitterly. "You keep protecting me, pushing me away—but did you ever think that not knowing might hurt more?"
He closed his eyes, as if my words struck deep.
"I know," he whispered. "Every day, I weigh which is worse—the truth… or my silence."
"And what about me?" I asked, barely audible. "Did you ever think about how I feel?"
Slowly, he lifted a hand and wiped away my tears with his thumb. I gasped at the touch—it felt too familiar, too natural, like something we had done a thousand times before.
"I think about you all the time," he admitted. "Every step you take. Every danger you face. You're always on my mind. That's why… sometimes, I choose to stay silent."
My heart raced.
"Because you're afraid?"
"Because you matter," he answered immediately.
I froze.
He didn't say I love you.
But I felt it—in the way he held me, in the regret and longing burning in his eyes.
"Don't push me away," I whispered. "If something is coming… I want to face it knowing something. Even just a little."
He stared at me, torn by an invisible battle within himself. Finally, he nodded.
"I can't tell you everything yet," he said. "But this is my promise—I won't leave you. No matter how hard it gets."
I looked up at the sky. In the distance, clouds slowly crept over the sun, dimming the light—like a warning of an approaching eclipse.
"When that moment comes," he added, his tone turning serious, "you may be the one who feels the answer."
I looked back at him.
"And if I get scared?"
He smiled—not cold, not guarded. Just real.
"Then let me be the one you hold on to."
The world seemed to slow.
Suddenly, my necklace began to glow.
I gasped. I had forgotten—every time I got close to Sailor, it reacted.
"Ah! It's burning!" I cried.
I reached for it instinctively, but the moment I touched it, searing pain shot through my palm.
"What's happening?!" I screamed.
Even Sailor looked lost. He called my name again and again, but this time, even his power wasn't enough. The light grew brighter—blinding—until I had no choice but to shut my eyes.
When I opened them—
I was on the ground.
Blood covered me. I felt something warm dripping from my lips.
My blood.
Sailor was kneeling beside me, wearing a prince's uniform torn and stained, as if he had just come from war. He was crying—openly, desperately.
"I can't do this, Star!" he screamed. "Please! Fight! Don't leave me again! I don't know where to find you!"
My body trembled, barely able to move, but I lifted my hand and touched his cheek.
"Don't… blame yourself," I whispered weakly. "My prince… I believe we'll meet again."
The world around us shook. My strength faded, warmth spreading through me as my body gave up. Yet the only thing I could see clearly was him—broken, terrified, loving me without restraint.
"Don't say that," he begged. "Please… stay. Even just for me."
I wanted to smile. I wanted to tell him I was still here. But light wrapped around me, pulling me away—gentle, painless, unbearably sad.
"Listen to me," I whispered. "Even if you forget my face… even if my name disappears—" I tightened my grip on his cheek, "—please don't forget how you feel right now."
He shook his head violently.
"That's impossible. You are my world."
I smiled through the pain.
"No… you will become the world for many. And one day—" I looked up at the sky split between light and darkness, "—you will find the star you're searching for again."
"Star—" his voice shattered.
The light consumed everything.
"Xanthe!"
I gasped awake, breathing hard, drenched in sweat. My body trembled, my chest aching as if something precious had been torn away.
I was back at the academy.
In Sailor's arms.
"Xanthe, look at me," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "Please… look at me."
Slowly, I lifted my gaze. The fear in his eyes was the same fear I had seen before—in that vision, that memory, that something.
"What… what was that?" I whispered. "Why did it feel so real?"
He didn't answer right away. He gently touched my necklace—it was quiet now, cold, as if nothing had happened.
"I don't know what you saw," he finally said. "But I know one thing."
"What?" I asked softly.
He pulled me closer, resting his forehead against mine, holding me as if afraid I would vanish with his next breath.
"That no matter where you go," he whispered, "whether in dreams, memories, or between the stars… I will always search for you."
I still don't fully understand what's happening.
But little by little, I'm starting to realize something terrifying.
There's a possibility that Sailor…
was my past lover.
"I'll take her to the clinic."
Eryx's voice was steady. Serious. Final.
Sailor hesitated. I could see it in his eyes—the silent war between pride and concern. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't let go.
But in the end, he did.
Eryx lifted me into his arms bridal-style, like I weighed nothing. People stared as we passed through the courtyard, whispers trailing behind us, but he didn't care. His jaw was tight. His focus was straight ahead.
When we reached the clinic, he placed me gently on the bed.
"Thank you, Eryx," I said softly.
He only nodded.
"There's no nurse right now," he added, exhaling through his nose. "She had to respond to another emergency. Rest here. I'll stay until you're better."
For a brief second, I noticed his gaze shift to my necklace.
It wasn't imagination.
He was looking at it like it was the enemy.
And the worst part?
I agreed with him.
"It's fine," I said, offering him a small smile. "You can go. I'll be okay."
"No." His response was immediate. Firm. "I'm not leaving you here alone, Xanthe. Not when that necklace might do something again."
My brows furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
I expected suspicion. I didn't expect certainty.
He looked at me directly. There was no doubt in his tone. No hesitation.
"What do you mean?" I repeated, more sharply.
Silence stretched between us.
Eryx stood at the side of the bed, hands slightly apart like he was restraining himself from reaching for something—either me or the necklace.
He wasn't like Sailor.
Sailor was emotion—raw and visible.
Eryx was control.
But right now, tension lined his shoulders.
"That necklace," he said quietly, eyes fixed on it. "It's not normal."
I let out a faint laugh. "Wow. Obvious."
He didn't smile.
"I'm not joking, Xanthe."
The humor faded from my face.
He stepped closer—but stopped just short of touching it, as if an invisible boundary prevented him.
"Whenever you're near Sailor, it glows," he continued carefully. "When danger approaches, it heats up. And earlier…" His jaw tightened. "It reacted like it was either protecting you—or triggering something."
Cold crept into my fingers.
"You sound like you've seen this before," I whispered.
A pause.
One second. Two.
"Where did you get it?" he asked instead.
"It just appeared in my room."
His jaw clenched.
Like a piece of a puzzle had just snapped into place.
"Eryx," I said softly, "do you know something?"
Finally, he looked at me.
His gaze was heavy.
"There are old legends," he said. "About a relic that awakens only when the eclipse draws near."
My heart pounded.
"What does it do?"
"It reveals the past," he answered. "And sometimes… it repeats the tragedy."
Ice poured down my spine.
"That's why you said it's dangerous to leave me alone?" I asked quietly.
He nodded.
"I don't know what your connection is," he continued. "But it's obvious there is one. And it's even more obvious that Sailor is tied to it."
The air thickened between us.
"So you think—"
"I think," he cut in, each word deliberate, "that something happened before that never truly ended."
But that wasn't the heaviest part.
What weighed more was the emotion beneath his voice.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Jealousy.
"Why do you sound angry at the necklace?" I asked slowly.
He didn't answer immediately.
Then, almost under his breath—
"Because every time it reacts… you're the one who gets hurt."
I didn't expect that.
It wasn't theory.
It wasn't myth.
It was concern.
"If something returns," he added, his tone colder now, "I won't let it happen again."
"Let what happen again?"
A faint smile curved his lips—but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Losing you."
My breath caught.
"Eryx—"
The clinic door suddenly swung open.
We both turned.
Sailor stood there.
The moment our eyes met, goosebumps ran across my skin.
He wasn't just upset.
He was furious.
"Whatever you're putting into Xanthe's head," he said coldly to Eryx, "stop."
Eryx didn't flinch.
"And whatever you're hiding from her," he shot back, "tell her."
The air between them sparked.
For a split second, I thought they might actually fight.
"Guys—" I started—
But the door burst open again.
"XANTHE!"
Iria rushed in and threw her arms around me before I could react.
"I was so worried!" she cried. "What happened? You just collapsed and no one told me anything! What if you fainted and never woke up?!"
Despite everything, I smiled.
"I'm okay," I assured her.
I looked at the two men.
"You can go. My friend's here."
They exchanged a long look. Reluctant. Unresolved.
But eventually, they left.
Or so I thought.
Iria held my hand once the room fell quiet.
"I'm here, Xanthe," she said gently. "Even if you don't tell me everything, I know something's heavy."
That's when I finally exhaled.
In her presence, the air didn't feel like a battlefield.
"Iria…" My voice trembled. "What if everything I know about myself isn't complete?"
She frowned slightly. "Like… secret twin incomplete? Or hidden royalty incomplete?"
When I didn't laugh, her expression softened.
"I saw something," I said. "Not just a dream. A memory. But I don't know if it's mine."
She squeezed my hand but didn't interrupt.
"I saw him," I whispered. "Sailor. But he wasn't like this. He was a prince. There was war. Blood. And he called me… Star."
Her grip tightened.
"How did it feel?" she asked carefully.
I closed my eyes.
"Painful. Not because I was wounded. But because I knew how it would end. Like… I had already accepted it."
Silence lingered.
I glanced at my necklace. It was quiet now. Harmless.
But I could feel it faintly—
pulsing.
"Every time I'm near Sailor, it glows," I said. "And earlier… it felt like it unlocked something."
"Unlocked what?"
"Something unfinished."
The words echoed in my head.
Something that never ended.
"I'm scared," I admitted.
Not of the blood.
Not of the eclipse.
But of the possibility that if it's true—
I'm not the only one carrying the past.
"What if this isn't just about me and Sailor?" I whispered.
Iria's brows knitted together. "Then who else?"
I didn't answer.
But I remembered the way Eryx looked at my necklace.
That wasn't simple concern.
That was recognition.
And the way Sailor and Eryx looked at each other—
That wasn't rivalry.
That was shared history.
A shared wound.
"What if," I breathed, "someone suffered because of me before?"
The necklace turned cold against my skin.
Not glowing.
Not burning.
Just—
waiting.
Outside the clinic door, Sailor hadn't left.
He stood there, hand pressed against the wall, eyes dark as the sky.
At the end of the hallway, Eryx leaned against the opposite wall, fists clenched, head bowed.
Neither spoke.
Through the tall windows, the moon was slowly being swallowed by shadow.
The eclipse had begun.
And with it—
so had the past.