Chapter 41: How to Hold a Ghost.
The days stretched long and silent. Ryuga had vanished, leaving behind a void that gnawed at Ryo's thoughts. She searched for him-not out of fear, but an unspoken need.
"Miss Ryo, your tea is getting cold," the maid reminded gently.
"Thank you," Ryo replied, though she made no move to drink it.
She wandered the city, retracing steps they had once taken together. The streets whispered memories, but offered no sign of him.
Then, one evening, she found him.
He sat alone on a bench in a secluded park, shadows cloaking his form. Bruises marred his face, and his gaze was distant.
"Ryuga," she called softly.
He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes before he looked away.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I was looking for you."
"You shouldn't have."
"I had to."
He sighed, the weight of unspoken words pressing down.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
"No, you're not."
He chuckled bitterly. "You always were too perceptive."
She sat beside him, the silence stretching.
"Why did you disappear?" she asked.
"I needed time."
"From me?"
"From everything."
She reached out, her fingers brushing his hand. He flinched but didn't pull away.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.
"You should."
"But I won't."
He turned to face her, vulnerability breaking through his guarded expression.
"I don't know how to let you in."
"Then let's figure it out together."
He nodded slowly, the walls around his heart beginning to crumble.
She looked closer at him under the dim lamplight. His jaw was swollen, his knuckles red.
"Did someone do this to you?"
He didn't answer.
"Ryuga..."
"It was just a thing. Just a bad night."
"You have a lot of those."
"Yeah."
A pause.
"I can't fix your life. I know that," she said. "But I can sit next to you while you're in it."
His eyes closed. He breathed out through his nose like he was holding something back.
"You make it sound simple."
"Maybe it is. Maybe you just never had someone who stayed."
He turned away, looking out into the dark trees.
"Why do you care so much?"
"Why do you keep asking me that?"
"Because I don't understand."
"You don't have to."
He smirked. "You're stubborn."
"I'm not the one pretending not to bleed."
A chuckle escaped him. It sounded foreign on him. It hurt and healed at the same time.
"I missed you," he admitted, barely audible.
"I know. I missed you too."
She pulled her knees to her chest.
"Sometimes I imagine you walking past my classroom window. Sometimes I hope you'll look up."
"I did. A few times. But I didn't want you to see me."
"Too late. I already do."
Another silence.
"Ryo... I'm not good."
"I'm not asking you to be."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"People like me... we don't get people like you."
"Says who?"
"Everyone. Life. Everything."
She looked at him long and hard.
"Then I guess I'm an exception."
He met her gaze.
"You always are."
A wind rustled through the park trees, sending leaves tumbling past their feet.
"You cold?" he asked suddenly.
"A little."
He shrugged off his thin hoodie and handed it to her.
"It smells like cigarettes and regret," she teased.
"Matches me perfectly."
She laughed, slipping it on.
It hung loose on her frame, but it was warm. Real.
"I should go home soon," she murmured.
"Yeah."
But neither of them moved.
"You gonna disappear again?" she asked.
"No. Not if you'll keep finding me."
She smiled faintly.
"I will. Always."
He looked at her, something like awe flickering in his eyes.
"You're kinda terrifying, y'know that?"
"Why? Because I don't give up?"
"Because you make me want to stay."
Her hand reached for his again. This time, he held it.
The bruises still hurt. The past still weighed. But for now, he was seen. He was held. He was here.