Aika stood outside Riku's house, hesitating before pressing the doorbell. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she gripped the strap of her bag tightly. It had been two days since she last saw him, and those two days had felt unbearably long. She needed to see him. To talk to him. To understand what he wasn't telling her.
The door opened slowly, revealing Riku's mother. Her tired eyes widened slightly at the sight of Aika. "Oh, Aika-chan. I wasn't expecting you."
"I… I just wanted to check on Riku," Aika said quickly, trying to steady her voice. "Is he…?"
Riku's mother hesitated before stepping aside. "He's in his room. He's been resting a lot, but I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."
Aika nodded, stepping inside. The house felt quiet, almost unnervingly so. She walked down the familiar hallway, stopping in front of Riku's door. Taking a deep breath, she knocked gently.
"Come in," came his voice, softer than usual.
Aika pushed the door open, and there he was—sitting on his bed, sketchbook in hand, pencil lightly scratching against the paper. He looked up, surprise flickering across his face before it softened into a smile.
"Aika."
Her chest ached at the sight of him. He looked paler than usual, his movements slower. But he was still Riku—still the boy who filled her world with warmth. She walked over and sat beside him, glancing at his sketchbook. "What are you drawing?"
He chuckled weakly. "Trying to finish the one we started together."
Aika's gaze fell on the page. It was the same sketch from before, the one she had helped him with in the art room. But the lines were shakier now, incomplete. Like a story that had yet to find its ending.
She swallowed hard. "You're still terrible at shading."
He laughed softly. "I know."
Silence stretched between them before Aika finally spoke. "Riku… what's really going on?"
His hand froze over the paper. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. Then, with a quiet sigh, he set the sketchbook aside. "Aika… there's something I need to tell you."
Her heart clenched. She had known this moment was coming, had felt it creeping closer with every unanswered question, every forced smile. But now that it was here, she wasn't sure if she was ready.
Still, she met his gaze. "Okay," she whispered. "Tell me."
And as Riku took a deep breath, the unfinished sketch lay between them, waiting—just like she was—for the truth to finally be revealed.