Akeno sobbed uncontrollably.
Those tears were not forced, nor were they a fleeting burst of emotion. They were an outpouring of old wounds reopening—of loss she had once endured, now clearly reflected in the back of the man she was holding so tightly.
She knew that feeling.
She had felt it before.
Losing someone she cherished, without ever getting the chance to say anything.
And now, if she truly let Jun go—if she loosened this embrace—then she knew, with an instinct she couldn't explain, that she would lose him forever.
Even if they were to meet again someday, their relationship would never be the same.
That was why she did this.
She didn't fully know Jun. She didn't know his entire past, nor did she understand all of his actions. But there was one thing she believed without doubt—every step that man took always had a reason.
And as long as she had known him, Jun had never hurt her.
Never hurt Rias.
Never hurt anyone around him.
On the contrary—he was always there when things became critical. Arriving without being asked, leaving without demanding anything in return.
That was what made her even more afraid of losing him.
"Jun…" Akeno's voice broke through her sobs. Her hands clutched Jun's clothes even tighter, as if afraid he would vanish the moment she loosened her grip.
Jun froze for a moment, his body stiff with surprise.
"Akeno?" he called softly.
"DON'T GO…!" Akeno screamed, her voice trembling violently. "PLEASE, DON'T GO!!"
Jun let out a long sigh. He could feel Akeno's body shaking, her shoulders rising and falling erratically, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Yeah… yeah," Jun said in a gentler voice than before. "I'm not going."
Jun tried to move slightly.
"Let go first…"
"No!" Akeno shook her head hard, even though Jun couldn't see her face. Her voice cracked, filled with urgency bordering on desperation. "NOT UNTIL YOU PROMISE ME!"
A brief silence enveloped them.
There was only the sound of the night wind seeping in from outside, and Akeno's breathing, still not fully steady.
Jun closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
Then he opened them again, his gaze now different—calmer, more resolute. As if he had made a decision, even though it was not a light one.
"Alright," he said at last. "I promise."
The embrace tightened for a moment, as if Akeno were making sure those words were real. Then, slowly, her grip loosened. Still, she rested her forehead against Jun's back, silent, as though unwilling to move away from the warmth she had just regained.
"Akeno…" Jun called softly.
"Mmm," she replied faintly, her voice still hoarse.
"Once again, I'm sorry," Jun continued. "I know you might feel like you're being used. But I truly have never treated you that way."
"I know…" Akeno answered quickly, almost without hesitation. As if she had already reached that conclusion long before Jun said it.
Jun exhaled slowly.
In his mind, his thoughts wandered in an unexpected direction.
He realized something bitterly—without meaning to, he had stepped too far into someone's life. Touching fragile parts, reopening old wounds, and standing too close to feelings he had yet to fully understand.
Was it because this world was filled with heroines?
Or because he, without realizing it, had become someone too important?
Jun quickly brushed those thoughts aside.
This wasn't a story. This was the real world. Everyone here lived with their own wounds, in their own way.
Slowly, he released Akeno's embrace. Not by pushing her away, but by gently holding her hands, asking her to turn around with him. He made sure the distance between them was close enough—close enough to clearly see each other's faces.
"Akeno…"
He looked into the girl's eyes.
Still wet. Still holding sadness. But behind them was something else—a fragile resolve, and courage born from the fear of loss.
Beautiful. Not because of her appearance. But because of the honesty she no longer hid.
Jun swallowed.
Then, in a voice that was honest and without pretense, he asked—
"Do you like me?"
The question hung in the air, simple yet heavy.
…
That night was quiet, filled only with the occasional hoot of an owl breaking the silence.
Inside the simple shrine room, two figures lay close together atop a futon. A blanket covered their bodies, leaving behind warmth that had yet to fully fade. There was no restlessness, no tension—only breaths slowly returning to normal after their earlier clashing emotions.
Jun lay on his back, one arm beneath Akeno's head. The woman closed her eyes, her body still pressed close, as if reassuring herself that the presence beside her was real.
"Did I hurt you?" Jun asked softly, his voice low and careful.
"Hm… not at all," Akeno replied after a brief pause. There was a small smile at the edge of her voice. "I think, Jun-kun… you're amazing. Even though my vitality is far higher than an ordinary human's, I still lost."
Jun let out a small chuckle—not out of pride, but rather awkwardness.
"That's because I'm already in a different realm," he said honestly.
"Yes… you already told me that," Akeno opened her eyes, staring at the wooden ceiling. "It's still hard to believe."
"True," Jun nodded lightly. "If I were in your position, I'd probably doubt it too."
They fell silent for a while. The silence wasn't awkward—it was calming.
Earlier, Jun had told her a small part of himself. About the path he had walked, about power he never sought, and about a name he had once left behind. Not everything. Not today. But enough for Akeno to understand that the man beside her was not just an ordinary human who happened to pass through her life.
And when Akeno confessed her feelings—not as a friend, not as a comrade, but as a woman—Jun no longer searched for reasons to hold himself back.
Not because of fleeting desire.
But because he chose to stop running away.
Akeno shifted slightly, resting her head more comfortably on Jun's chest. She could hear his heartbeat—calm, steady.
"Jun-kun," she called softly.
"Hm?"
"Do you regret it?"
Jun was silent for a moment, then answered without hesitation.
"No."
Outside, the night continued on. A gentle wind slipped through the gaps in the window, carrying the scent of damp wood and leaves. The world kept moving, as if indifferent to the fact that, in this small corner of the shrine, two destinies had just crossed.
Jun lowered his gaze. Akeno's face was so close, her black hair scattered loosely, her skin still warm. For a moment, he simply looked at her—as if trying to engrave this moment so it wouldn't be swallowed by time.
"I'm very happy right now," he said softly. "In my life that is… broken."
His hand moved slowly, brushing aside the strands of hair on Akeno's forehead. There was naked honesty in his voice, without masks, without calculation.
"I've found a place to return to," he continued. "Thank you… for liking me."
Jun lowered his head and kissed Akeno's forehead. The touch was light, full of care—different from the earlier intensity. A silent promise, not desire.
Akeno closed her eyes. Her breath trembled softly.
"Jun-kun…" she whispered. "I love you."
Those words came without hesitation, without playfulness, without a teasing tone. Just feelings that had finally found their form.
Jun smiled faintly. A smile he rarely showed—calm, sincere, and tired.
"I love you too."