Shadows Heart

Sao's curls bounce as she steps out of the cab, her wide eyes scanning the street with curiosity. She's wearing the outfit Janus sent in one of his packages—soft, dark jeans and a pale green sweater that somehow manages to look both elegant and effortless on her. The portable IV unit he designed is strapped to her back like a small, discreet backpack. It's a marvel of engineering, lightweight and freeing, and I hate that it came from him.

But seeing her without the pole, walking freely for the first time in years, makes my chest ache in ways I can't explain.

"What is this place?" she asks, looking up at the ornate building in front of us.

"You'll see," I say, guiding her toward the door.

The apartment is everything I imagined it would be. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, the cream-colored walls glowing warmly in the late afternoon light. The high ceilings and intricate molding give it a sense of elegance, while the soft wood floors make it feel like home.

Sao steps inside, her eyes wide as she takes it all in.

"Oriel," she whispers, her voice soft with wonder. "This… this is beautiful."

I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips. "Wait until you see the kitchen."

She follows me down the hallway, her fingers brushing against the doorframes as we pass. Her hair catches the light, the dark curls shimmering with hints of auburn, and for a moment, I feel like I'm seeing her for the first time.

When we reach the kitchen, she stops in the doorway, her breath catching.

"Oh my God," she says, stepping inside.

The cream-colored cabinets are exactly as she described in her letters, and the vintage-style stove sits in the corner, gleaming like it's been waiting for her. The countertops are smooth and cool to the touch, and the light from the oversized window bathes the room in a golden glow.

"This… this is my dream kitchen," she says, her voice trembling.

"I know," I say quietly.

She turns to me, her eyes shining. "How did you—"

"You told me once," I say, cutting her off gently. "In one of your letters. You described it so perfectly that I couldn't forget."

Sao smiles, a rare, genuine smile that makes my chest tighten.

"Oriel," she says, stepping closer. "This is… it's perfect."

I lead her to the living room next, where the high ceilings and ornate fireplace create a sense of warmth and sophistication. There's no furniture yet—just the potential for something beautiful—but Sao doesn't seem to mind.

"I could see myself sitting here," she says, her voice full of quiet excitement. "Reading, drawing… maybe even painting."

"Exactly," I say, my voice soft.

I show her the bedroom next. It's spacious, with soft light filtering in through the curtains. There's a built-in window seat, and Sao sits down on it immediately, running her fingers over the fabric of the cushions.

"This is incredible, Oriel," she says, her tone full of wonder. "You've thought of everything."

Then she sees it.

The crane is sitting on the dresser, perfectly folded, with a small handwritten note tucked into its wing.

Her smile fades, and she stands up slowly, crossing the room to pick it up. Her fingers tremble as she unfolds the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting.

I don't need to read it to know what it says:

"I'm sorry I missed you. I'll be back again soon. Don't give up on me."

Her expression crumples, and she turns to me, her voice breaking. "Oriel… was Janus here?"

I freeze, the words catching in my throat. "Sao, listen—"

"Was he here?" she shouts, her voice rising.

"Yes," I admit quietly, my chest tightening. "He was here."

Her breath catches, and tears spill down her cheeks. She looks at me like I've betrayed her in the worst possible way.

"You knew, and you didn't tell me?" she yells, clutching the crane in her hand. "You didn't let me see him?"

"I didn't want to hurt you," I say quickly, stepping toward her.

"Hurt me?" she screams, her voice shaking. "Do you have any idea how much I've missed him? How much it would've meant to see him, even for a second?"

"Sao, I was trying to protect you," I say, my voice desperate.

"Protect me from what?" she snaps. "From feeling something real? From seeing someone I love?"

Her words cut deeper than I expect, and I take a step back, my mind reeling.

"I'm not moving in here," she says suddenly, her voice trembling. "Not after this."

Her refusal is a slap to the face, and something inside me snaps.

"You don't have a choice," I say, my voice low and cold.

She stares at me, her eyes wide. "What are you talking about?"

"You're moving in," I say firmly, stepping closer. "And you're staying. End of discussion."

"No," she says, shaking her head. "You can't force me—"

"Yes, I can," I snap, my voice rising. "If you don't move in, I'll make sure you never see Janus again. Not now, not ever."

Her face crumples, and for a moment, I think she might collapse. "You wouldn't," she whispers.

"Try me," I say, my tone sharp and unrelenting.

Her sobs fill the room, and she sinks onto the bed, clutching the crane like it's the only thing keeping her together.

"You're a monster," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Maybe I am. But as I watch her crumble, I tell myself it's for the best. She'll understand someday. She'll thank me.

Won't she?