Chapter 102. Caught Between Two Princes

Rain fell in unrelenting sheets, blanketing the world in gray.

Thunder growled in the distance like a warning, and the wind howled as if mourning something lost.

But none of it compared to the storm brewing inside Ayaka.

She stood in the middle of her living room, her bag slung carelessly over her shoulder, every drawer and cabinet flung open.

Papers, notebooks, scarves—everything was scattered like debris in the wake of a tornado.

"Where is it? Where the hell is my umbrella…?" she mumbled, shoving aside a pile of documents.

A shiver ran down her spine as she peered out the window at the downpour.

It was the kind of rain that soaked through bones and left you shaking.

She exhaled sharply, brushing her damp hair away from her face.

"I must've left it in the office…" she muttered with a groan. "Of all days—what freaking bad luck."

Grabbing her jacket, she threw on the hood and stormed out of the apartment, determined to walk to the bus stop and ignore the universe conspiring against her.

But the moment she stepped onto the street, the rain wasn't the only thing that froze her in place.

"Out for work?" a voice asked, low and familiar—too familiar.

Her entire body went rigid.

Slowly, Ayaka turned her head. Her breath caught in her throat.

There he stood—Akihiko.

Holding a black umbrella above his head, hair slightly tousled from the mist, a navy coat clinging to his tall frame.

Raindrops shimmered on his lashes like crystal, but his expression was unreadable.

Calm.

Steady.

Like he'd been waiting.

"A-Akihiko?!" she stammered, heart thundering wildly. "You're… you're still here?!"

"I didn't leave." he replied simply, stepping forward and tilting the umbrella to cover her as well.

"But I—I heard you leave last night." Her voice was sharp, laced with confusion and rising panic.

"Mori came over to talk to you." he said casually.

"H-how did you know that?" Ayaka asked.

He tilted his head, watching her with that unreadable gaze. "I already told you, Ayaka. I didn't leave. I was waiting."

She took a step back, pulse spiking. "Why?"

"To talk properly and to take you to work." His tone was final, as if the matter was already decided.

"No." she said quickly, her voice clipped, cold. "That's not necessary."

Akihiko's brows furrowed, just a fraction. "It's pouring. You'll catch a cold. Just get in the car."

"I said no." She pulled her hood tighter and started walking away without looking back. "I'm taking the bus."

She hadn't taken more than two steps when she felt his hand wrap gently—but firmly—around her wrist.

"Don't be stubborn." He gazed at her like it's only him and her in the world.

The sound of the rain only made his voice more intense.

She could feel it vibrate in her bones.

"Let go of me!" she snapped, twisting her wrist out of his grasp.

But he didn't back away. "You're shaking."

"I'm not your responsibility anymore, Akihiko!" she suddenly shouted, chest rising and falling as her emotions cracked through the surface. "You can't just show up like this—after everything—and act like nothing happened!"

"I'm not pretending nothing happened." he said quietly. "I'm trying to be here now."

"Well, it's too late!" she hissed, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "You don't get to pick up where you left off like nothing broke."

A gust of wind rushed past them, tugging at her jacket and hair, but Ayaka didn't move.

Her fists were clenched, her jaw tight.

He stared at her, his expression unreadable—but his eyes... those blue eyes looked like they were screaming.

"I'm not here to pretend." Akihiko said at last, his voice soft but piercing. "I'm here because I couldn't stay away any longer."

Before she could respond, the distant headlights of the bus cut through the mist.

Ayaka turned without another word and stuck her hand out, signaling it.

She didn't look back.

Akihiko stood still, his umbrella useless now, droplets rolling down his face as if mimicking the ache behind his stoic gaze.

The bus hissed at a stop.

She climbed in.

And just before the doors closed, she dared a final glance over her shoulder.

He was still there.

Standing in the storm.

Watching her go.

Her hand hovered near her chest as she found her seat, feeling the thunder inside her now louder than the storm outside.

"What's his deal…?" she whispered to herself.

But the truth was, she already knew.

She clutched her chest, as if trying to still the traitorous beat of her heart.

Because it still beats for him.

Even if she didn't want it to.

Even if she wished it would stop.

Later that Day — At the office...

The persistent tapping of rain against the windows was nothing compared to the pressure pounding in Ayaka's skull.

She sat at her desk, shoulders tight, a mess of drafts and feedback notes scattered around her like a storm had passed through.

The glow of her monitor seemed too harsh. Her coffee had long gone cold.

Her heart was still aching from that morning's encounter—but now, Daiki's voice was pushing her toward the edge.

"You're not listening!" he said, arms crossed as he leaned against the corner of her desk.

"You've built this incredible character—mysterious, intelligent, emotionally restrained—but readers need more. Give him an edge, give him that sharp, almost untouchable charisma. Like—like Akihiko."

Ayaka froze.

Her grip on the pen tightened.

Her jaw clenched. "Mr. Takahashi I already understand my assignment you don't need to keep mentioning Akihiko."

"But you're not doing it properly! I'm not saying make it realistically identical to him, of course!" he continued, chuckling as though completely oblivious to her crumbling mood.

"Your readers love that cool, brooding type. And let's be honest, the Akihiko-inspired angle worked well for the previous chapters. Just lean into it a little more. It's gold."

Ayaka's eyes narrowed.

Her breath came faster now, her chest tightening.

"I know! I know!" she snapped before she could stop herself.

Daiki blinked. "I'm just saying—"

"I said I understand!"

The office fell silent.

The nearby editors and assistants froze at their keyboards, eyes darting toward the two of them.

Everyone knew their dynamic—Daiki had always acted like a second father to her, ever since she debuted.

They were close, affectionate in their bickering, respectful in their battles.

But today… Ayaka wasn't holding back.

"I'm doing my best!" she said, voice trembling, but not from fear. "So don't—don't keep repeating and repeating the name Akihiko! It's pressuring me!"

Daiki's lips parted slightly, but he said nothing.

"I need space..." she whispered, lowering her eyes.

And with that, she stood.

The room remained painfully silent as the older man stepped back, offering her a slow, apologetic nod before walking out.

But even after the door closed, Ayaka didn't move.

Her hands trembled.

Her heart was exhausted.

She wasn't sure what was harder—relieving her grief through fiction, or pretending she was okay every day in front of everyone.

------

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the skies dark but clearing.

Ayaka stepped out of the building, pulling her jacket tighter as she braced herself for the cold.

And then she saw them.

Two men stood waiting for her beneath the street lamps.

Makoto was leaning casually against his car, one hand in his pocket, the other holding an umbrella.

His blonde hair caught the golden hue of the streetlight, and the mist in the air made him look almost otherworldly—like something from the cover of a fantasy novel.

His tailored coat clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, and his emerald eyes softened as he saw her, warm and welcoming.

"You're here!" Ayaka smiled while approaching Makoto.

"Well I didn't get to pick you up earlier, as an apology I'll take you out for dinner." Makoto proposed while looking at her.

"I'm here as well." Akihiko spoke.

Tall, poised, unreadable.

His silver hair was slightly damp, making him look even more untamed under the dim light.

He stood beside his sleek black car, arms crossed over his chest, umbrella forgotten at his side.

The collar of his coat was turned up, framing the sharp lines of his face.

His piercing blue eyes locked onto Ayaka the moment she stepped outside.

One golden and radiant.

One silver and ice cold.

Ayaka froze at the sight of them.

The air between all three of them crackled—not from the rain, but from the weight of everything unsaid.

"I told you I'd wait." Akihiko's voice cut through the silence.

Her breath hitched.

She turned to him slowly, surprised to find his expression not cold—but intensely focused. "You shouldn't have." she said flatly, trying to keep her composure.

"I know." he replied, stepping closer, eyes locked on hers. "But I still did."

Makoto glanced between them, his jaw tightening slightly, but he stayed composed.

"Who's this?" Makoto said gently, stepping back.

"Let's just go Makoto." Ayaka replied getting inside her car.

Makoto looked at Akihiko before hopping inside his car.

He settled into the driver's seat beside her, shooting her a glance.

"You okay?"

She nodded wordlessly, staring out at the road ahead.

Makoto didn't push.

He simply started the engine, letting the heater hum gently between them, filling the silence with something soothing.

The city lights passed in a quiet blur, glowing in streaks across the windows.

But Ayaka's thoughts… they weren't calm.

They were spinning.

Chaotic.

Akihiko.

Why did he come? Why was he still waiting?

After all that silence, after disappearing like a ghost from her life—why was he suddenly showing up, again and again, as if he had the right?

Her hands curled tightly in her lap, hidden beneath her coat.

Makoto's voice was soft as he drove. "You don't have to talk about what happened. But if you want to… I'm here."

Ayaka looked at him.

He was focused on the road, brows slightly furrowed in concern.

He looked flawless even in casual stillness—the glow of street lamps glinting off his blond hair, his features sharp, like something out of a dream.

He had always been steady, always gentle with her, always respectful.

And yet…

Why did her chest still ache for someone else?

The image of Akihiko's soaked figure under the rain, those piercing eyes watching her walk away, flashed in her mind like lightning.

"I told you I'd wait."

Why?

Why now?

Why did it still hurt?

Makoto pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant, one of their usual late-night spots.

He turned to her with a soft smile. "We don't have to go in. I can get it to-go if you'd rather stay here."

Ayaka blinked, pulled from her thoughts.

"…No, I—I want to come in." she said quickly, masking the quiver in her voice. "Just… give me a minute."

Makoto nodded and waited patiently, making no move to rush her.

Ayaka exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her heart.

It was still beating too fast.

Not because of the man beside her—but because of the one she left behind.