Jiho found and played the video. It explained how scientists had spent years recalibrating time itself—redefining hours in a day, days in a year. The cause remained unknown, but theories swirled: the anomaly coincided exactly with the crown prince's disappearance.
"Your vanishing did something," Ariha said gently, watching Senko's face pale. "Something science can't explain."
The prince gripped the edge of the bed. "Did I... cause this? Was it my fault?" he whispered, more to himself than them.
"Wha—?!" The siblings gasped in unison.
"N-no! You're not to blame!" Ariha babbled, flailing. "We'll figure this out! Just—don't shut down!"
But Senko's eyes glazed over, his breathing shallow. The siblings exchanged alarmed glances—this wasn't grief. This was guilt devouring him whole.
Jiho acted first. He pulled Ariha into a bear hug, muffling her frantic whispers against his shoulder. When she calmed, she noticed Senko still trembling. Without thinking, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him.
"Unhand me—!" Senko recoiled as if burned, shoving her away with enough force to make her stumble. "How dare you?!"
Silence.
Ariha's hands hovered in the air, her face crumpling. A new pain lanced through her—not from the push, but from the raw anguish in his voice. "I... I'm sorry," she choked out, tears spilling. "I shouldn't have touched you without permission..."
Senko's fury dissolved the moment he saw her tears. His lip bled where he'd bitten it, the metallic taste anchoring him. What have I done?
"No—I must apologize," he forced out, voice ragged. "These emotions... they're not yours to bear. I never meant to hurt you."
Jiho stepped forward, uncharacteristically solemn. "Your Highness, pride won't help you now. My sister feels others' pain as her own. If she tries to comfort you again—let her. She's stronger than you think."