Chapter Thirty-Four: The Promise

It was as if a gust of wind would be enough to topple her—a frail, silver-haired girl, her silhouette clear yet ethereal against the dim moonlight behind her, as though she and Aoki Tsukasa belonged to different worlds. Her white dress and fair skin made her look like a snowman carved with exquisite care from pure snow. The small, pale hand she extended quivered slightly, and with her head lowered, her eyes seemed almost closed.

Aoki Tsukasa watched quietly. The other hand at her side was tightly clenched into a fist, betraying either nervousness or something closer to fear.

He didn’t know why, but a sudden ache gripped his heart.

In the past, his younger brother’s shadow had often replaced the image of Sora in his mind; his care and patience for her felt more like a continuation of his past and present lives than genuine affection for the pitiful girl before him. But this time, as Sora timidly mustered all her strength to open the door and reach out to him, she filled his vision so completely that there was no room for anyone else.

Almost by instinct, Tsukasa reached out and gently placed his hand on her head. Even he couldn’t say why he suddenly dared such a bold gesture—just moments before, he’d been filled with nothing but caution.

Under his palm, her small head radiated a fragile warmth. The stiffness and trembling he felt made it impossible for him to suppress the surge of tenderness; a gentle smile blossomed on his face, and he softly called her name, “Sora.”

The warm, broad hand on her head brought Sora a feeling utterly different from what she’d ever experienced from her father or mother. Startled, she looked up as Tsukasa spoke her name.

What she saw was his radiant smile.

On that face, still bearing a few fading scars, was a smile so bright it made Sora feel a sudden pang of sorrow for reasons she couldn’t comprehend.

How dazzling…

She instinctively looked away.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” Tsukasa soothed, gazing into those pure eyes, nervous and shy, yet also laced with fear. They reminded him of a starry summer night—so captivating. As he gently stroked her head, his voice remained steady and warm. “I’ll protect you, always. So…”

“Sora, could you try…not to think of me as someone you dislike?” His eyes were utterly sincere, quietly meeting her restless gaze.

Normally, Sora would have been deeply unsettled by anyone drawing even a little closer, but to her surprise, she felt a rare tranquility. Her soft lips parted slightly, and she replied with an answer she herself hadn’t expected, “Mm…”

The two of them fell silent after that.

Sora turned her head away, a little embarrassed. The twin tails she’d hastily tied up earlier swayed like the anxious ears of a little rabbit, but she made no move to protest his hand on her head.

Beneath his palm, Tsukasa felt her gradually settle, her trembling subsiding. He suddenly realized that beneath his hand was not just a pitiful girl, but a soul so fragile and battered it might shatter at a touch.

“Then, it’s a promise. From now on, you’re not allowed to lock yourself away from me on purpose.” Tsukasa’s smile grew even gentler, more careful as he slowly withdrew his hand. Then, holding out his little finger in front of her, he said, “Pinky swear.”

Sora dropped her head again, nervously twisting the hem of her dress. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do.

But Tsukasa only crouched down, patiently holding out his hand, smiling up at her without moving.

After a long while, Sora finally extended her hand, her cool little finger hooking gently around his. From her tightly closed lips came a soft, barely audible, “Mm…”

In the moonlight, their shadows merged into one at the point where their two small fingers touched.

——

The shrill ring of an alarm clock pierced the silence, and Tsukasa blinked groggily awake. The familiar ceiling greeted his tired eyes. His body still ached dully, and he had to struggle to reach out and fumble for his phone to silence the alarm.

He lay on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling for a long time before finally sitting up and stretching, only to wince at the protesting muscles.

“It’s already six fifty…” Tsukasa pulled the curtains aside. The sky, not yet fully awake in the approaching winter, left the street outside half-lit, half-shrouded—a hazy, melancholic beauty.

“Sigh, still need to make breakfast…” He slipped on a shirt, ran a hand over his shaved head in the mirror, and, seeing his own lackluster expression, lightly patted his cheeks. “Let’s do our best today, too!”

He couldn’t help but smile, remembering how his relationship with Sora had taken a miraculous leap forward last night. He’d thought the awkwardness at home would only drive them farther apart, yet somehow, things had turned out for the better…

He didn’t know why Sora had suddenly opened up to him, even a little, but as long as things were moving in a good direction, that was enough.

Humming a tune, he went downstairs, washed up quickly, and checked the ingredients in the kitchen. He pulled out noodles and other fixings and began to prepare breakfast with practiced ease.

He had never formally studied cooking, but by now, Tsukasa figured his skills were at least level three or four.

At the very least, when the noodles were done, the fragrant egg noodles alone were enough to make his mouth water.

After hanging up his apron and setting out the utensils, Tsukasa headed upstairs and knocked on Sora’s door. “Sora… Sora.”

He called several times before hearing a faint, sleepy noise from within. Raising his eyebrows, he listened, but could only make out muffled, dreamlike sounds.

“Sora, I made noodles today. If you don’t come eat now, they won’t taste as good later.”

He knocked again, patiently.

There was a patter of bare feet on the wooden floor, then the door opened with a soft click. Sora stood in the doorway, bleary-eyed and dazed.

Her silver hair was a little tousled over her shoulders, the loose dress-like pajamas revealing delicate collarbones. Under the elbow-length sleeves, her fair little arms lifted as she tiredly rubbed her eyes, gazing at Tsukasa with a half-asleep, half-awake expression. Her voice was soft and weary: “Mm.”

She looks even more exhausted than I do.

Tsukasa couldn’t help but smile wryly, watching her sway on her feet as if she might collapse and fall asleep again at any moment. He coaxed gently, “Come on, wash your face and brush your teeth first. Breakfast is ready. Once I leave for school, you can go back to sleep.”

“Mm…” Sora seemed to wake up a little, lowering her hand and squinting at Tsukasa through barely opened eyes.

She stared at him for a long moment. Suddenly, as if she remembered something, her eyes flew wide, and she stumbled back in panic, nearly tripping over some clothes carelessly dropped on the floor. Only after retreating to a safe distance did she lower her head in silence, lost in thought.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs. Once you’re ready, come wash up and eat.” Tsukasa, amused by her comically adorable reaction, made a playful gesture as if to flick her forehead. “If you fall asleep again, I’ll have to give you a forehead flick!”

“Mm…” Sora replied in a low voice, head bowed, and soon heard Tsukasa’s footsteps receding downstairs.

Only after he had gone did she lift her head, covering her face with both hands, and once more flopped onto the bed, kicking at the covers with all her might. From her lips came a barely audible whimper, “I’m… such an idiot…”