Chapter 144. The Look In Her Eyes Said Everything

The next morning greeted Akihiko like a train wreck.

The sunlight filtered in too brightly through the curtains, the birds outside were chirping far too enthusiastically for his comfort, and his skull felt like someone had surgically implanted a jackhammer into his brain.

He groaned, pressing a hand to his temple as he sat up slowly on the couch, his usually sleek silver hair in complete disarray. "What… happened last night?"

From the kitchen, Ayaka's voice floated over, cheerful and suspiciously innocent.

"You got drunk. That's what happened."

He squinted toward her, shielding his eyes with one hand. "I don't get drunk."

"Well..." she said, setting a steaming mug of black coffee on the coffee table in front of him with a gentle *clink* "you did last night. Thoroughly. You and Kai were a disaster."

Akihiko accepted the coffee like it was an IV drip for his soul and took a long sip. "…Did I say anything weird?"

Ayaka raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a mischievous smile. "Define weird."

He narrowed his eyes. "Ayaka."

She chuckled, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. "Honestly, you kind of blacked out halfway through. You were saying all sorts of things by then."

He blinked at her. "Wait, really?"

"Mm-hmm." She took a sip of her own coffee. "Nothing important. Just nonsense. I think there was something about vampires and slugs. Oh, and cats."

Akihiko buried his face in his hands. "Crap..."

She giggled. "You were… surprisingly affectionate. With Kai."

He groaned louder, looking utterly defeated. "You're lying."

"I wish I was."

He peeked through his fingers, studying her expression for any cracks—but she remained frustratingly unreadable, just sipping her coffee with a serene smile. "You're seriously not going to tell me anything?"

"Nope." Her smile widened. "I'm keeping it all in my mental vault."

He stared at her for another long second, then sighed in surrender, ruffling his already-messy hair in frustration. "Unbelievable…"

But then, something caught his eye.

Ayaka had moved to put her cup down on the shelf, and as she turned slightly, the delicate silver chain around her neck shimmered in the morning light—his gift.

The small pendant, he'd picked on a whim ages ago, rested neatly just above her collarbone.

He stared at it, the grogginess slowly giving way to something else—something warm, soft, and real.

"You still… took care of this huh?" His voice had gone quiet.

Ayaka blinked, then followed his gaze.

Her fingers instinctively brushed over the pendant. "Of course I did."

He looked at her, eyes a little clearer now, searching her face.

"It means a lot to me." she said, her tone is more gentle now. "Because you gave it to me."

A beat passed.

And then, without warning, Akihiko stood, crossed the small distance between them in two long strides, and pulled her close—his hand curling around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head.

Her eyes widened. "Aki—"

He kissed her.

Soft, unhurried, but filled with unmistakable feelings.

There was no drunken haze this time.

No teasing smirk.

Just the warmth of his lips and the press of his heartbeat against hers.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against hers, and he murmured, voice low and honest. "I just… felt like kissing you."

Ayaka's breath caught. "That's not fair." she whispered, still recovering.

Akihiko tilted his head slightly, brushing his nose against hers. "You kept the necklace. You took care of me last night. You remembered everything and still smiled at me like that."

He paused, smiling faintly. "That's not fair either."

Ayaka laughed softly, her hands resting over his chest now. "So… what now?"

He leaned in, lips brushing against her cheek. "Now, I make sure you never want to take this necklace off."

She blushed—brightly—and lightly swatted his arm. "Smooth."

"I'm still hungover." he said with a grin. "Wait till I'm fully functioning. I'm worse."

"Then I should get you a cup of coffee." she said, smiling up at him.

He pressed another kiss to her forehead and murmured, "Or just stay close."

------

The following day, the morning hadn't even fully bloomed before Tokyo Medical Center became ground zero for one of the most dramatic gossip storms it had ever seen.

It began like any outbreak—quiet and sneaky.

Just a whisper passed between two nurses over a coffee machine.

"Did you see her story last night?"

"Whose?"

"Ms. Yamamoto's... Personal one."

"I thought she never posted personal—wait, you mean Ms. Midnight?"

"No, no. She posted a photo, blurry as hell, but you can hear someone."

"I replayed it six times. It's definitely Dr. Nakamura."

"Dr. Nakamura… Akihiko?!"

The gasp that followed may as well have set off a hospital-wide alert.

Within two hours, half the hospital staff had seen the video.

And by lunchtime, it was all but confirmed in the eyes of Tokyo Medical Center's finest: the Ice Prince had finally melted.

And the cause of this emotional climate shift?

None other than the hospital's favorite quiet novelist with a hidden fire—Ayaka.

Akihiko walked into the hospital as if nothing had changed.

As if his phone hadn't exploded with teasing texts from colleagues and at least one meme from Toru involving an animated snowman melting in front of a coffee cup labeled "Ayaka's Love."

He was his usual composed self—white coat crisp, tie straight, eyes unreadable.

He nodded calmly to every passing nurse who was barely suppressing squeals.

"Good morning, Dr. Nakamura." a nurse greeted, wearing a grin that stretched a little too wide.

He gave a slight nod. "Morning."

She winked at him.

Actually winked.

Akihiko paused mid-step and raised a brow. "Is something wrong with your eye?"

"Nope." she replied sweetly. "Just got hit by a flying cupid."

He didn't respond.

Moments later, another nurse passed by with a supply cart, whispering to a colleague, "Next thing we know, he'll be handing out roses during rounds."

Akihiko merely adjusted his watch.

Then came the break room.

Sitting innocently on the counter was a brand-new mug.

Large, glossy white, with an elegant script across the front that read: "Property of Ms. Midnight" with a dainty moon and feather graphic underneath.

It was obnoxiously cute and unmistakably Toru's handiwork.

Akihiko took one look, then poured his coffee into it anyway.

He didn't mind.

Not the teasing, not the giggles, not the curious glances.

In fact, the only thing bothering him that morning—though he'd never say it aloud—was how much he wanted to see her.

That wish came sooner than expected.

Apparently, he'd forgotten a change of clothes at Ayaka's place.

When he realized, he pulled out his phone and typed:

Akihiko: My spare clothes are on your couch. Bring them to me.

Three dots appeared instantly.

Then her reply:

Ayaka: What do I get in return?

His lips twitched—almost a smile. Almost.

Akihiko: You get to see me.

Then after a moment, another text:

Akihiko: I want to see you.

Her response came swiftly:

Ayaka: Since you're being cute, I'll be on my way.

And just like that, his day got brighter.

------

When Ayaka arrived, things didn't go quite the way he imagined.

She was walking briskly through the hallway, holding the bag of folded clothes, when she heard a voice up ahead.

A female voice.

Bright.

Giggly.

"…You're so serious, Doctor. It's kind of hot."

Ayaka's steps slowed.

She peeked around the corner and saw Akihiko standing by the nurse station near one of the open wards.

He wasn't smiling, of course.

He rarely ever did unless he thought no one was watching.

But there was a girl next to him—a young patient, probably early twenties, with her arm in a sling and her good hand playfully twirling her hair.

She tilted her head at him, clearly trying to charm her way into his attention.

"If I get discharged soon, will you take me on a date?" she asked, her voice borderline musical.

"I don't date patients." Akihiko replied, flat and dry as ever.

"What if I'm not your patient anymore tomorrow?"

"Then I don't date former patients either."

The girl pouted. "You're so cold. It makes me want to melt you."

Ayaka stepped forward.

He noticed her instantly.

His eyes softened at the sight of her—subtle, barely there, but she saw it.

She held out the bag.

"Here."

He reached for it. "Ayaka—"

But she'd already turned away.

"Thanks for the trouble." he called after her.

"No trouble." she muttered without looking back.

She walked off without another word.

The young patient blinked. "Was that your girlfriend?"

"Yes." he replied, and walked away.

Ayaka, meanwhile, was already fuming by the time she left the hospital doors.

She wasn't even sure why.

He hadn't done anything wrong.

He was just standing there.

Being himself.

Cold and handsome and maddeningly polite.

And yet the girl had looked so comfortable with him—like flirting with him was effortless, normal, like she belonged there.

Ayaka knew she shouldn't feel that way.

But she did.

She didn't message him the rest of the day.

He didn't, either—at first.

But by late afternoon, as the teasing in the hospital reached meme-level proportions and Toru had staged a mini wedding altar made of tissue boxes in the staff lounge, Akihiko was clearly bothered by something.

He kept checking his phone.

Akihiko: "Ayaka?"

Nothing.

Akihiko: "Did something happen?"

Still nothing.

Akihiko: You didn't even wait for me to say thank you."

Read. No reply.

He stared at the screen, jaw tight.

Toru leaned against the doorframe of his office, sipping tea like a nosy housewife.

"She's not answering, huh?"

"I'm aware." Akihiko said without looking up.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

Toru gave a sympathetic whistle. "Oof. That's the worst answer."

Akihiko didn't respond.

He just stood, grabbed his coat, and left for the day.

It was already dark by the time Ayaka heard the doorbell ring.

She hesitated.

Then slowly opened it just a crack.

Akihiko stood outside, still in his hospital uniform, carrying nothing but his usual quiet intensity.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

She didn't answer at first.

Her eyes didn't meet his. "It's late."

"I know."

Silence.

"I didn't do anything wrong." he said softly.

She closed the door.

On the other hand, Akihiko didn't move.

He stared at the door, brows low, breath slow.

Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed.

It rang once.

Twice.

*click*

His voice was quiet but firm. "Hey. I need a favor."

He paused.

"No, not medical. Something else."

His eyes lingered on the closed door in front of him.

"It's important."