The rest of the scene need not be described in detail.
Every boundary-crossing attempt stopped abruptly right there.
Hisaki’s movements froze completely in place.
Shiro on the bed was trembling violently, her whole body taut, a sharp, unbearable pain she had never felt before sweeping through her, causing her to instantly shatter every defense she had.
Rina curled up tightly, shrinking herself into a tiny ball, her ten fingers clenching the bedsheet beneath her.
She was crying.
It was a complete breakdown, a total loss of control.
“Mm…”
Muffled sobs spilled out from her curled-up arms, her shoulders heaving violently with each spasm, her silver-white hair scattered messily across the bed, dampened by tears.
She cried until she couldn’t breathe, her throat choking and trembling, unable to form a single complete sentence, leaving only broken, utterly pitiful whimpers.
Hisaki’s hand froze completely.
She had seen this girl’s many sides before.
Seen her rebellious arrogance when she talked back, seen her stubbornness when she was guilty but refused to admit it, seen her timid cowardice when she was fearful and wary.
But she had never seen Shiro cry like this.
This wasn’t a performance to win sympathy, nor a disguise to avoid punishment.
This was the purest, most instinctive pain and grievance.
Like a defenseless child accidentally hurt, filled with genuine misery—no scheming, no purpose, only unbearable agony and helplessness.
Watching the girl on the bed trembling, collapsing, and crying in utter devastation, every obsessive thought, every planned step, every suppressed desire in Hisaki’s heart dissipated completely in that moment.
She immediately leaned down and gently scooped the curled-up Shiro into her arms.
The moment her body left the mattress, Rina’s crying suddenly grew louder.
The sobs that had been muffled by the bedsheet were now unobstructed, and her grievance and pain burst out directly, thick with tears, broken and pitiful.
“Waaah… it hurts… please don’t… don’t do this… it hurts…”
Large teardrops rolled down fiercely, streaming continuously along her flushed cheeks, each one landing on Hisaki’s shoulder and soaking through the fabric.
Her slender fingers clutched desperately at the clothes on Hisaki’s back, her grip tight and frantic—an instinctive plea for help and resistance under extreme pain.
Hisaki held her steadily, raising a hand to gently pat her back in a slow, rhythmic motion.
One pat. Two pats. Three pats.
The motion was gentle yet clumsy, like soothing a crying child, gently rocking the person in her arms, using the most instinctive and calming rhythm to gradually smooth away her panic and pain.
Rina lay against her shoulder, her heart-wrenching cries slowly easing into intermittent sobs.
The intense pain still lingered in every limb, yet within this gentle comfort, a measure of the utter despair faded slightly.
“Don’t cry.”
Hisaki lowered her head, her voice soft and tender against the girl’s flushed ear, impossibly gentle.
“No more fussing.”
“Never again.”
Her tone was no different from the gentle coaxing of before, but this time, hidden within it was an emotion she had never felt before—a faint trace of guilt.
Hisaki knew it clearly in her heart.
All the punishments before had been what Shiro deserved.
She had run away, lied, discarded what Hisaki had given her, time and again betrayed Hisaki’s sincerity, and repeatedly tried every means to escape her side.
When you do something wrong, you pay the price.
Even if they could do it all over countless times, she would still make Shiro remember the consequences of betrayal.
But this time was different.
The hurt in this moment had nothing to do with punishment, nothing to do with right or wrong.
It was her losing control.
It was her long-suppressed obsession and desire crossing the line, her inability to stop wanting more, her stubborn insistence that ignored all of Shiro’s endurance and discomfort.
Shiro had done nothing wrong.
Her obedience just now, her clumsy attempts to please, her deliberate cooperation—all of it was effort to follow Hisaki’s demands.
It was she who had been insatiable, she who had crossed the line, personally hurting the one she should have been cherishing.
Hisaki’s heart churned with complicated emotions.
All her past obsession, possessiveness, and harshness stemmed from a love that ran too deep.
Because she cared too much, feared abandonment too greatly, dreaded experiencing the emptiness of being alone once more, she could not tolerate even the slightest deviation from Shiro.
But now, looking at the girl in her arms trembling from crying, fragile and helpless, she realized clearly for the first time…
Her obsession had ultimately hurt the person she treasured most.
She buried her face in Rina’s damp silver hair, still gently patting her back, repeating words of comfort in a soft voice.
“Don’t cry. I’ll never let you hurt like this again.”
Time flowed slowly within the gentle comfort.
One minute, two minutes, a long moment quietly passed.
Rina’s wailing gradually faded, shifting from full-blown sobbing to small sniffles, then to occasional light hiccups, until finally only steady but still trembling breaths remained.
The extreme pain and emotion had completely drained all her strength. Her body went limp in Hisaki’s arms, residual tremors still running through her, with no strength left to struggle at all.
Hisaki stopped her rocking motion but never let go, still holding her steadily, gently stroking her back, quietly accompanying her.
The stillness stretched on for a long time.
***
After a while, a hoarse, weak voice sounded muffled, thick with tears and a stuffy nose.
“It’s not me being difficult.”
Hisaki slowly lowered her head.
The girl’s face was buried deep in the crook of her shoulder, only one swollen, reddened sky-blue eye and half a tear-flushed nose visible, so fragile it made one’s heart soften.
“It really hurts… it hurts so much…”
Rina sobbed, struggling to find words she could voice, not daring to recall the extreme pain from before, clumsily comparing instead.
“It’s even worse than having my nails pulled out.”
Having said that, she extended her limp arm, gently wrapping it around Hisaki’s neck, burying herself even deeper, her tone carrying thick grievance and careful caution, as if earnestly defending herself.
“Really… I’m not lying to you.”
A few light sniffles sounded for several more seconds, then fell completely silent.
Rina slowly lifted her head.
Her beautiful sky-blue eyes were swollen red, her long lashes hung with undried tears, her eye sockets and nose tip flushed with pitiful redness, her entire face disheveled and fragile from crying.
She gazed directly at the person before her, her eyes filled with fear and pleading, using the last shred of her strength to whisper her plea.
“Please… don’t ever do this again.”
“It hurts so much. I can’t take it.”
As her words fell, fresh tears welled up again, streaming slowly down the dried tear tracks on her face.
Hisaki quietly watched her—messy, fragile, desperate, and pleading—and felt something gently squeeze her heart, bitterness and guilt surging in layers.
She spoke softly, her voice as light as a feather brushing past.
“Then Shiro, from now on, you’ll be good, okay?”
Rina nodded fiercely at once.
The motion was huge, her silver-white hair swaying wildly, a few damp strands sticking to her tear-stained cheeks, which she didn’t bother to wipe away.
“I’ll be good! I’ll be good! I promise I’ll be good from now on!”
She spoke rapidly, her hoarse voice carrying urgent panic, terrified that if she answered even a second slower, the other would change her mind.
“Just as long as you don’t make me hurt like this again… I’ll listen! I won’t fuss, I won’t run, I’ll absolutely stay right by your side!”