‘It’s not too late… everything is still possible… I can still stop it all from happening!’
This thought burned like the most intense fire in Aina Saiten’s chest.
She felt her blood boiling, and every cell in her body was screaming at her: there was still time, there was still a chance, and it could all still be undone!
In the midst of her extreme emotional swings, a sickly, abnormal flush appeared on her cheeks.
The redness spread from her cheekbones to her ears and down to her neck, making her look as if she were running a high fever.
Her breathing was rapid and ragged, her chest heaving violently, and a near-manic light burned in her bloodshot eyes.
Kaoru Hoshitani, who was holding her, was terrified.
He had never seen Aina with such an expression — it wasn’t sadness or anger, but a kind of frantic excitement that he couldn’t comprehend at all.
He hurried to shake her body. When his fingers brushed her shoulders, he could feel her entire frame trembling.
His voice was thick with tears and extreme unease.
“Aina, what’s wrong? Don’t… don’t scare me. Please, say something…”
His tears began to fall again, one by one, hitting Aina’s pajamas and leaving small, wet stains.
Only then did Aina Saiten’s consciousness finally break free from that frantic thought and return to the real world.
She looked down.
In her arms, Akane was looking up at her. His delicate face was covered in snot and tears, his wet eyelashes were clumped together, the tip of his nose was red, and his lips were trembling slightly.
He looked absolutely wretched and pathetic, yet it made her heart ache for him.
He watched her like a young animal abandoned in the rain, cautiously checking to see if he was still wanted.
In that instant, Aina Saiten’s heart softened into a puddle.
She raised her hand and gently wiped the tear tracks from his face with her thumb.
The movement was light and slow, as if she were polishing a fragile treasure.
The corners of her mouth curled into a tender arc, and her voice was as soft as the night wind.
“It’s all right. Just leave everything to me…”
There was no anger in her voice, no interrogation, only a kind of gentle certainty.
“So, Aina, you won’t break up with me, right?”
Kaoru Hoshitani didn’t understand the baffling thing Aina had just said. What did she mean by “everything”? What was she going to “handle”?
He only wanted to confirm one thing — he wanted to make sure she would stay by his side.
Clearly, they hadn’t been on the same wavelength just now.
Hearing her boyfriend’s question, Aina Saiten tilted her head, a flash of confusion passing through her bloodshot eyes.
“Break up?”
She repeated the word as if she were savoring its flavor.
“Why would we break up?”
“Huh? Aina… are you really okay?”
Kaoru felt like his brain couldn’t keep up.
Not long ago, Aina had looked like she was having a breakdown — a pale face, swollen eyes, her entire body like an empty shell that had lost its soul.
But now? She was acting as if nothing had happened, smiling tenderly, wiping his tears, and saying things he didn’t understand.
The contrast was too great, so large that it left him at a loss and filled his heart with a deeper sense of unease.
‘Aina hasn’t gone crazy from anger, has she…?’
He thought worriedly.
‘Is she under so much stress that… she’s become like this?’
“Really, I’m fine.”
Aina Saiten’s voice remained gentle, carrying a forced sense of ease.
“I just had a nightmare, so I was a bit emotional. Let’s go back to sleep.”
As she spoke, she took his hand and led him toward the bedroom.
However, her still-bloodshot eyes made Kaoru only half-believe her.
The red veins in her eyes were so dense and shocking; how could a mere “nightmare” explain that?
The reason Aina Saiten chose not to tear down the final veil was that she had realized the video in that eerie software was actually showing things that would happen in the future.
In the video she had just watched, the beginning of everything was likely because she and Akane had gotten into a fight, which caused Akane to leave home and ultimately gave Chinatsu Ayase an opportunity.
‘So, I absolutely cannot fight with Akane now!’
She told herself, her internal voice resolute and firm.
‘I absolutely cannot give any other woman a chance!’
She couldn’t let the images from those videos become reality.
She couldn’t let Akane crouch by the roadside crying alone, she couldn’t let Chinatsu Ayase get near him, she couldn’t let that black Cadillac park downstairs at her apartment building, and she couldn’t let that countdown reach zero.
She still had time, she still had a chance, and she could still stop all of this.
Although Kaoru Hoshitani was still somewhat worried, since his girlfriend said so herself, he didn’t say anything more.
He simply followed her silently back to the familiar bed and climbed back into the warm covers.
He actually wanted to ask Aina — was she serious when she said he shouldn’t go to work from tomorrow onward? Did she already know something? Was she…
But in the end, he didn’t ask.
He didn’t dare to ask.
He was afraid that if he did, the hard-won peace would be shattered, and Aina would lay out all the things he was desperately trying to hide right in front of him.
He was afraid that if he asked, he would truly lose her.
The two of them, who had known each other for over a decade, showed a remarkable tacit understanding in this moment.
They both chose not to pierce the final layer of the window screen, both choosing to maintain at least the appearance of peace.
But when a couple’s relationship needs to be so carefully glossed over, does it really have a future?
Aina Saiten and Kaoru Hoshitani returned to the bed.
As usual, they faced each other, chests pressed together, embracing tightly.
She could feel his heartbeat, thumping one beat at a time through his thin pajamas.
He could also feel her heartbeat, just as clear and just as strong.
Yet, for some reason, those two hearts seemed to be drifting apart.
……
The next morning.
Aina Saiten got out of bed and began preparing for work. Her complexion was poor because she had only slept for a few hours, and deep dark circles sat under her eyes.
But she pushed through, applying light makeup to try and hide the traces of exhaustion.
Kaoru Hoshitani also got up and stood in the foyer to see her off.
“All right, be good at home, okay?”
Aina Saiten pressed a light kiss to his lips. It was a soft, gentle kiss, yet it carried an indescribable weight.
“Call me if anything happens.”
“Okay…”
Kaoru Hoshitani nodded, his voice very soft.
After waking up that morning, he realized Aina was serious about not letting him go to work at Quansheng.
She hadn’t mentioned it again, but her attitude was clear — she didn’t want him going to that place or seeing those people again.
His mind began to race once more.
‘It seems Aina really does know… but why is she…’
He didn’t understand.
Why was Aina still so calm on the surface after finding out about him and that yellow-haired woman, and after finding out about that girl?
She hadn’t questioned him, she hadn’t scolded him, and she hadn’t even asked for an explanation.
She had just kissed him gently, told him to “leave it to her,” and then acted as if nothing had ever happened.
It wasn’t right.
It shouldn’t be like this.
If Aina knew those things, she should be angry, she should be furious, and she should be demanding to know why he betrayed her.
She should cry, she should scream, and she should vent all her grievances and pain.
But she did none of that.
She only smiled so tenderly and calmly, as if those things had never happened, as if he had never betrayed her.
But it was exactly this calmness that made Kaoru Hoshitani feel even more terrified.
He didn’t know what she was thinking, and he didn’t know what was hidden beneath this calm surface.
“I’m leaving.”
Aina Saiten gave him one last look, her eyes filled with too many things he couldn’t read.
Then she turned, opened the door, and walked out.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Aina Saiten stood outside the door, leaning her back against the cold surface. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The corridor was quiet, save for the distant hum of the elevator.
The morning light spilled through the window at the end of the corridor, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
The air was filled with a faint scent, the lingering smell of the apartment building’s daily morning cleaning.
She opened her eyes. In those bloodshot depths, a near-insane determination was burning.
There were still forty-nine days.
She still had forty-nine days to stop it all from happening.
She pulled out her phone and scrolled to that anonymous text message, to the photographs of Akane and Chinatsu Ayase together downstairs.
Her gaze fell on the girl in the beige coat, on her face that was mostly covered by a white mask.
Then, the corners of her mouth slowly curled into a cold arc.
Chinatsu Ayase…