Aika sat at her desk, her pencil resting limply between her fingers.
The sketchbook lay open in front of her, but the page was blank. The soft hum of the evening breeze coming through the window barely touched the heaviness in her chest.
Her mother's words echoed faintly in her mind.
"He'll be here when you come back."
Her fingers curled around the pencil.
Riku had always been the constant in her life—the steady hand when things got hard, the quiet voice when her thoughts became too loud. And now… now that foundation felt like it was slipping away beneath her feet.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Aika?"
Her mother's voice was gentle.
"Yeah?"
The door opened slightly, and her mother stepped inside, holding a cup of tea.
"You should take a break," her mother said, placing the cup on the desk.
Aika's eyes remained fixed on the blank page in front of her.
"I can't."
Her mother sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her. "It's not going to help if you push yourself too hard."
Aika's hand tightened around the pencil. "But I have to do something."
Her mother's gaze softened. "What you can do right now is rest. Riku wouldn't want you to wear yourself out."
Aika's head lowered, her bangs falling over her eyes. "He didn't tell me."
Her mother's expression turned careful.
"He knew I'd worry," Aika continued, her voice tight. "But it's not fair. He should have told me."
Her mother stood and walked over to her, brushing her hand lightly across Aika's hair.
"Sometimes people don't say things because they don't want to be seen as weak," her mother said softly. "Maybe he thought he was protecting you."
Aika's chest tightened.
"But I still should have noticed…"
Her mother knelt beside her, taking Aika's hand in her own. "And what would you have done if you'd known?"
Aika's lips parted, but no words came.
Her mother's gaze was warm. "You would have stayed by his side, wouldn't you?"
Aika's hand trembled. Slowly, she nodded.
"And you're still by his side now."
Aika's eyes burned. She bit her lip and looked away.
Her mother smiled faintly. "So you've already done the most important thing."
Aika's shoulders slumped.
Her mother rose and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Drink the tea. Get some rest. Tomorrow, you can go see him."
Aika hesitated, but finally gave a small nod.
Her mother kissed the top of her head before standing and leaving the room.
Aika sat there for a long moment, the pencil still pressed between her fingers.
Her gaze drifted toward the sketchbook again. Slowly, her hand moved.
The lines were shaky at first—uncertain and hesitant. But as the pencil moved, shapes began to emerge. A familiar figure took form beneath her fingertips—soft hair, warm eyes, and a quiet smile.
Riku.
Her chest ached as she traced the curve of his jawline.
"You're still by his side now."
A quiet breath left her lips.
Her pencil stilled.
She pressed the sketchbook to her chest and closed her eyes.
"Tomorrow."