Chapter 6

The next morning, Aiko stirred, her mind hazy as fragments of the previous day floated to the surface. She sat up, her fingers brushing against the scarf.

Kaito was already awake, seated on the floor near the library shelves, sharpening a knife. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone was both soothing and unnerving. His focus was unbreakable.

"Morning, Sleep well?" Kaito said without lifting his eyes focusing on his knife.

"Well enough," she replied, stretching. 

" I slept well thank you for asking." He chuckled.

Aiko frowned. She didn't have a response to that, so she stood and began tidying the blanket she had used. "What's the plan for today?"

Kaito set the knife aside and stood, towering over her. "We need to get moving soon. But first, breakfast."

He gestured for her to sit at the small table, then retrieved a bag he'd left near the door. Aiko watched as he unpacked its contents—small bowls of rice, grilled fish, miso soup, and pickled vegetables. The aroma was mouthwatering, and her hunger intensified with each passing second.

As Kaito arranged the dishes on the table, Aiko couldn't help but notice the care he took with every movement. It was as if he were creating a ritual out of something as simple as breakfast.

They began eating in relative silence, the clink of chopsticks against bowls filling the space. After a few moments, Kaito poured two cups of tea from a small thermos he'd brought. The scent of sencha filled the air as he placed one cup in front of her. He neither tasted her food nor her tea like yesterday.

"I'm taking you somewhere today," Kaito said, his voice even, though his gaze lingered on her with an unspoken determination. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Aiko snapped. "I don't trust you." 

Kaito sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "You'll change your mind." 

"I won't," she bit back, standing her ground. 

Minutes later, her resolve began to falter as a sudden wave of dizziness overtook her. She gripped the edge of the table for support, her legs buckling beneath her. 

"Kaito..." she managed to whisper before darkness claimed her. 

Kaito caught her before she hit the ground. Gently hoisting her over his shoulder, he whispered, "Forgive me, Aiko. I put a sleeping pill in your tea." 

As Aiko slept, Kaito moved swiftly. With one hand, he traced a rectangular frame in the air, the lines glowing faintly like thick wool threads. The portal shimmered and solidified, pulsating with quiet energy. Without hesitation, he stepped through, the portal closing silently behind him. 

--- 

The scent of roses and cool winds greeted Kaito as he emerged into the middle of a vast, serene field. Crimson roses stretched endlessly in every direction. At the heart of the field stood a black temple, its simple yet commanding architecture blending into the surreal landscape. The field was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the wind. 

Kaito walked steadily to the temple entrance, where a bronze bowl of clear water rested atop a stone pedestal. Setting Aiko down gently on the temple steps, he dipped his hands into the bowl, cupping the cool water and drizzling it onto her face. 

Aiko stirred, her eyelashes fluttering open. Her first reaction was panic. She sat up quickly, her wide eyes darting around. 

"Where am I?" she demanded, her voice trembling. 

"You're safe," Kaito replied, standing and extending a hand to her. "I brought you here to show you something." 

Aiko blinked against the brightness, her eyes unused to natural light after days indoors. The fresh air filled her lungs, momentarily soothing her unease, but the unnerving calmness of the place kept her on edge. 

She hesitated, staring at Kaito's outstretched hand. Against her better judgment, she placed her hand in his, allowing him to help her to her feet. 

"Come," he said softly, leading her toward the field of roses. 

As they stepped into the field, Aiko's apprehension gave way to wonder. The roses, which seemed ordinary from a distance, revealed themselves to be extraordinary upon closer inspection. Their petals weren't natural but intricately knitted, the textures so lifelike it was almost impossible to believe they weren't real. 

Her eyes widened as she noticed knitted butterflies flitting between the flowers and knitted bees buzzing lazily from one bloom to another. Everything moved as if alive, yet it was all undeniably handmade. 

"What kind of magic is this?" she whispered. "Who created this?" 

Kaito knelt beside one of the roses, his fingers brushing its soft, knitted petals. "This place was created by a man who spent fourteen years crafting every flower, every creature. He poured his heart into this field and into the temple, all for the woman who will fall for him." 

Aiko crouched beside him, her gaze fixed on the shimmering petals. "What happened to him?" 

Kaito sighed, his tone laced with melancholy. "He stopped believing in love. He thought, 'How can someone who doesn't love themself expect someone else to accept their imperfections, their darkness, their past?' So he abandoned this place. But the flowers remain." 

Aiko tilted her head. "Why haven't they withered? No one's been here to take care of them." 

"Maybe he cared for them so well they learned patience," Kaito replied. "Or maybe... deep down, he still believes he'll find her. That hope keeps the magic alive, even if he doesn't realize it." 

Aiko frowned, her voice soft. "The girl he needs... someone who'll accept his darkness and guide him to the light?" 

Kaito nodded, his gaze distant. 

"Why are we here?" she asked, standing up and brushing her hands off. "Who is this man?" 

Kaito didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned to face her. "I decided to take care of this place. It's like a shrine to me—a place to meditate, to think, to find peace." His voice was quiet, almost reverent. "I thought... maybe it could help you, too." 

She crossed her arms. "You didn't answer my question. How do you know this story? How did you find this field?" 

Kaito's lips pressed into a thin line. "Not everything needs an answer, Aiko." 

He reached for her hand again, and though she hesitated, she let him lead her back toward the temple. As they walked away, Aiko glanced over her shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed something strange: the flowers that had glowed faintly moments ago were now dull, their knitted threads turned real.

"Kaito..." she started, her voice quivering. 

Before she could finish, a figure appeared at the edge of the field. An old man in a weathered red robe stood silently, his presence sending a chill down Aiko's spine. He didn't move or speak, nodding at Kaito with a subtle smile. 

The old man stepped forward, his movements deliberate. The air grew heavy, and the wind stopped, leaving an unsettling stillness in its wake. 

"Welcome back," the man said, his voice deep and resonant, carrying a weight of knowing. 

"Who are you?" Aiko demanded, her fear mounting. 

The man's lips curved into a faint smile. "The guardian of this place... and perhaps, your guide."