Aisha had no qualms about leaving her sister alone with Roy.

Was it absolute trust in him?

Or simply unawareness of her sister’s charm?

At least in Roy’s eyes,

Airi was a girl of delicate beauty—different from Aisha’s.

One glance confirmed his assessment.

Like her sister, Airi had long golden hair.

But its hue was dull, like washed-out sunlight.

Yet to touch, it remained silken-smooth.

Her trembling reactions, like a timid rabbit’s, were oddly endearing.

A soft shimmer always lingered in Airi’s eyes—

a pool of vulnerability and unease.

Her faintly furrowed brows didn’t diminish her allure;

instead, they lent her the melancholic grace of a sorrowful maiden.

Roy once struggled to grasp why a frown could be beautiful.

But after meeting Airi, he understood instantly:

that fragile, heart-tugging loveliness.

It struck straight to his core,

stirring an instinct to protect her.

After finishing his breakfast quietly,

Roy waited until sunlight climbed the windowsill.

Only then did he carry Airi’s meal to her door and knock softly.

He’d reheated the eggs slightly.

His delay? Fear of disturbing her sleep.

Her rest was always troubled—

a surprise to many.

Confined to bed by illness,

what else could she do but sleep?

Yet reality rarely followed expectations.

Airi’s sleep was terribly poor.

Beyond the curse, anxiety, nervous exhaustion, and depression haunted her.

She overthought.

She drowned in nightmares night after night.

When loneliness gripped her,

Aisha worked as a nun to support them.

Airi could only lie there like a fish gasping on shore—

breathing, waiting in fear for death.

*Knock. Knock.*

The soft sound roused the half-conscious girl.

Airi lay on her sickbed, eyes dull and vacant,

staring at the same ceiling.

A tiny black insect crawled aimlessly across it.

Even that creature seemed freer, happier than her.

After a few seconds, her stinging eyes closed again.

Red-rimmed lids betrayed tears shed last night—

when she realized what Aisha and Roy might be to each other.

Silence meant permission to enter.

(Aisha had told him this.)

Roy pushed the door open gently.

"Sorry to disturb you, Airi," he murmured clearly.

But at his voice,

the girl’s breath hitched sharply on the bed.

*Huff… huff…!*

She’d expected her sister—not Roy, still here after dawn!

Did this mean…

Aisha had already welcomed him into their home?

Dizziness crashed over Airi.

A heart she thought unbreakable shattered into dust.

The thought of living with them both—

hearing their nighttime whispers,

smelling strange scents,

watching Aisha and Roy raise a child—

stole her breath away.

*No. No!*

Watching the boy she loved choose another?

*Never!*

Roy couldn’t hear her silent scream.

But her ragged breathing clenched his chest.

He shut the door and hurried to her side,

concern etching his gentle features.

After setting down the tray, his voice brimmed with worry:

"Airi, are you alright?

Do you need help?"

Whether he and Aisha had crossed that line or not—

to Airi, his sincerity remained unchanged.

His warmth still drew her in.

It felt like a mirage.

Then reality shattered the illusion.

Her nose stung, tears threatening to spill.

She pressed her small crimson lips tight,

biting her tongue beneath them until it nearly bled—

punishing it for wanting to speak to Roy,

to laugh with him like before,

to pretend nothing had changed.

*But it’s too late.*

Turning her head away, she mumbled hoarsely:

"...I’m fine."

Pale and trembling, she looked anything but fine.

Roy trusted his eyes over her words.

He reached to touch her forehead.

*Hss—!*

She bit his fingertip—

a startled, kittenish nip.

(It stung. Young creatures never knew their strength.)

He didn’t pull back.

Guilt made Airi release him first.

"Why… do you still care?"

"Because you look unwell."

"...What’s it to you?"

Her attempt at coldness cracked into a sob—

less rejection, more a child’s wounded plea for comfort.

Roy lifted her hand from the bedsheet,

curling her fingers over his chest.

Her palm felt his heart’s frantic rhythm.

Her lashes fluttered.

She froze.

Roy’s voice stayed calm, warm:

"It’s not nothing.

Seeing you like this…

*hurts me.*"