The soft click of the door echoed in the stillness of the apartment. Ayaka stood frozen, staring at the closed door long after Akihiko's footsteps had faded down the hallway.
Her heartbeat hadn't calmed at all.
Slowly, she walked back to the living room, the quiet pressing down heavier without his presence filling the space.
She sank onto the couch, hugging her knees to her chest, eyes flickering to the faint marks of his stay—the glass he used still on the table, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. It was almost ridiculous how noticeable the absence felt.
Ayaka groaned softly, burying her face into her arms.
"What the heck is wrong with me?"
Every small touch, every teasing word, every glance from Akihiko last night kept replaying in her mind like a loop she couldn't shut off.
He always teased her—always cornered her, like it was some kind of game. She was used to that.
But lately... lately, there has been something different.
The way he held her so close in the dark last night, murmuring gently that he was there… the way he brushed her hair aside before leaving, the voice so soft yet intense…
Ayaka could feel her face burning just thinking about it.
"No no no… don't overthink it. That's just how Akihiko is. Always likes messing with me. It doesn't mean anything!"
She pressed her hands to her cheeks, trying to will away the ridiculous fluttering in her chest.
But even she couldn't deny how safe she felt last night, wrapped in his arms. How she'd selfishly wished the power wouldn't come back, just so she could stay like that a little longer.
She groaned louder, flopping onto her side.
"This is bad…" she mumbled into the pillow. "I'm being stupid."
------
The quiet rustle of papers and the rhythmic scratching of Akihiko's pen filled the office.
His silver hair caught the afternoon light filtering through the blinds, blue eyes focused, sharp.
For all appearances, he was the picture of composure—calm, methodical, detached.
But beneath the surface, his thoughts kept wandering back to her.
The faint press of her hand against his shirt. The soft sound of her breathing as she drifted asleep next to him, completely unguarded.
The way she looked at him like she trusted him implicitly, unaware of how tightly that looked wound around his throat.
*CLICK*
He snapped the pen shut, forcing himself to refocus.
Just as he reached for the next file, the office door burst open without warning.
Akihiko didn't look up right away. He didn't need to. Only one person in the hospital lacked the basic decorum to barge in like that.
"Are you lost Toru? Why are you in the surgery department?" Akihiko muttered dryly.
Toru stood in the doorway, red hair slightly disheveled, expression irritated in the way only someone on a mission would carry.
"You..." Toru said, pointing at him like he was about to accuse him of a crime. "Where is it?"
Akihiko blinked once, then went back to flipping through the file. "Clarify."
Toru marched up to his desk, dropping his hands onto the surface. "Don't play dumb. My book. The one I lent you a month ago—the special edition Azrael Emberlight volume, ring any bells?"
There was a pause. The faintest flicker in Akihiko's eyes.
"Ah. That book..."
Akihiko clicked his pen again, feigning thoughtfulness. "I might have forgotten to bring it back."
"Might have?" Toru scoffed, incredulous. "You promised you'd return it last week! You've had it for over a month. Do you know how many people tried to get their hands on that edition?"
Akihiko offered a faint smirk. "You seemed eager to lend it to me at the time."
"That's because I assumed you had basic reading comprehension and wouldn't hold it hostage indefinitely!"
He sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. "Honestly, I should've known better."
Akihiko leaned back, unbothered. "I've been busy."
Toru narrowed his eyes. "Busy ignoring your promises, you mean."
The tension hung for a second, but it wasn't sharp—more like the familiar sparring of two men who knew each other far too well.
Then Toru straightened, brushing it off with a shake of his head. "Whatever. Just bring it back this week, or I swear I'll start charging you late fees."
Akihiko gave a noncommittal hum, already glancing back at the patient file.
But Toru didn't move to leave. Instead, after a beat, he slid his hands into his coat pockets, his tone shifting slightly.
"Speaking of being busy…" He tilted his head. "How's Ms. Yamamoto doing?"
Akihiko's pen paused for the second time that afternoon.
"She's recovering..." he said simply, without looking up.
Toru's eyes sharpened, noting the clipped reply.
"That's glad to hear. I told her the follow up check up for me would be the same day as yours."
Toru continued, voice casual but laced with something probing. "Is she doing okay on her own? Dr. Yamamoto is out of town and I heard Professor Yamamoto is busy with university work."
Akihiko's lips pressed into a thin line. "She's fine. Someone's looking after her."
Toru leaned his weight on the desk again, giving him a look. "Who? You?"
Akihiko's gaze flicked upward, cool as ever. "I'm just doing my job."
"Sure." Toru said easily, but the grin on his face returned, far too knowing. "And staying at her place afterward—also part of the job description?"
That earned him a warning glance.
But Toru only laughed, pushing off the desk. "Relax, Akihiko. It's not like I'm judging. Frankly, I'd be more concerned if you weren't hovering over her."
Akihiko said nothing, but his fingers tapped once, rhythmically, against the pen.
Toru took that as his cue to continue.
"Though..." he added lightly, heading toward the door, "You might want to hurry up."
Akihiko's brows lifted slightly. "What are you rambling about now?"
Toru smirked over his shoulder. "One of the nurses has been asking about her nonstop. He wanted to know if she was seeing anyone."
Akihiko's expression remained unreadable, but Toru saw the way his eyes darkened slightly, the subtle tightening of his jaw.
"I told him to back off!" Toru said breezily. "But you know how persistent some people can be."
He lingered for a moment longer, clearly entertained.
"Well..." he finished, pulling the door open, "Don't forget my book. And… maybe don't forget to check if anyone else is making moves, yeah?"
The door clicked shut behind him.
Akihiko sat still, the silence returning.
This time, it felt heavier, more charged.
His hand rested idly on the file, but his mind wasn't on the pages.
Instead, it drifted back...
To the faint scent of her shampoo still clinging to his shirt.
To the softness of her voice when she thanked him in the dark.
To the thought of anyone else thinking they had a chance to stand where he did.
"Annoying."
With a slow exhale, Akihiko finally reached for his phone.
'No messages.'
He set it back down, jaw tense.
Professional. Controlled.
But outside, the late afternoon sun kept slipping lower, casting shadows across the office— and for once, Akihiko wasn't entirely sure how much longer he could hold the line.
------
"OUCH!" Ayaka winced sharply as the antiseptic stung against her skin.
"Stay still." Akihiko said curtly, his voice cool and clipped.
His gloved hands didn't pause, carefully dabbing around her stitches. "I told you it's going to sting. Bear with it."
Ayaka bit her lip, nodding without a word.
Normally, he was gentle—even if he teased her relentlessly, there was always a quiet care beneath it.
But today… something felt off.
The silence between them was thicker than usual. Heavy.
She risked a glance at his face, only to find his eyes fixed on his task, unreadable as ever.
"The stitches are healing perfectly." Akihiko said flatly, finishing up and covering the area. "We can remove them the day after tomorrow."
"O-okay…" she mumbled, fiddling nervously with the hem of her sleeve.
Still, no teasing. No casual remark. Just that stiff, distant air.
Ayaka swallowed. 'Something must've happened…'
She watched as Akihiko peeled off his gloves, disposing of them methodically before standing up and moving to clean up the tray.
He hadn't even looked at her since she'd sat down.
"…Akihiko?" she finally ventured, her voice tentative.
He didn't answer immediately, setting the tray aside. When he glanced at her, his gaze was cold.
"What?" he asked, tone sharper than usual.
Ayaka flinched slightly, but pressed on. "Did… something happen? You've been quiet today."
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "No." he replied simply. "Nothing happened."
A pause.
Ayaka frowned, trying to figure out why it felt like she'd done something wrong.
Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out:
"Did I do something to upset you?"
That seemed to catch him off guard—just for a second. But then he exhaled sharply, turning away.
"Don't overthink unnecessary things." he muttered, walking toward the door. "I'm just tired."
Ayaka's lips parted, the hollow weight in her chest only growing heavier.
But before she could say anything else, Akihiko added without looking back:
"Besides, it's not like you don't have other people lining up to check on you. I'm sure you'll be fine."
She blinked, confusion knitting her brows.
"...Huh?"
But he was already pulling the door open.
"Rest properly." he said, tone final, before reaching the guestroom door and closing it behind him without another glance.
Ayaka stared at the door, stunned.
'Other people? What was that supposed to mean?'
------
Akihiko walked briskly to his bed, expression composed—but his thoughts were a mess.
It had been a stupid, passing comment.
Toru, smirking like always, throwing out that offhanded remark about someone else wanting to ask Ayaka out.
He shouldn't care or even think about it.
But the image wouldn't leave his mind.
Ayaka smiling politely at some guy, agreeing for a coffee.
Someone else standing too close to her, seeing the side of her she always tried to hide—the softness, the trust she gave so easily.
It gnawed at him.
He should've ignored it, pretended it didn't bother him.
But it did... The only choice that came to his mind was to walk away and act coldly.
Because he knew—if she asked him why he was acting like this, if she pressed him—
He wouldn't know how to answer without revealing more than he wanted to.