A Sweet Spring Breez AKUHIGU
The dimly lit hallway of the Port Mafia building was dead silent. Higuchi was completing her late-night rounds when she spotted a familiar, slender figure leaning heavily against the wall near the lounge.
Her breath caught in her throat. Instantly, her inner alarm system went wild a chaotic mix of sheer panic, intense worry, and overwhelming devotion.
"Akutagawa-senpai?!" She practically scrambled toward himl.
As she stepped closer, she caught the unmistakable scent of alcohol... He had been drinking. He who almost never touches a drop was visibly intoxicated.
Panicked, but secretly hyperventilating with joy, she gently guided him to a plush leather sofa nearby, nearly melting on the spot just from the contact. As soon as he sat back, Higuchi's inner monologue erupted into pure chaos.
Higuchi's Brain: IS THIS A DREAM?! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?! He's vulnerable! He's relaxed! Should I hold his hand?! Should I lean in?! Oh god, can I kiss him?! The room is completely empty... just the two of us! What if I lock the door like that hotel room incident?! No, no, calm down Higuchi! But... opportunity only knocks once!!
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She lowered her gaze, unable to steady her breathing as her heart pounded against her ribs like a sledgehammer She leaned in slightly, trembling from head to toe, her fingers ...hovering just inches from his collar, trapped between overwhelming passion and suffocating shyness.
Suddenly, Akutagawa slowly turned his head toward her. His usually sharp gaze had softened under the haze of alcohol. A faint smile played at the corner of his lips as he took in her flustered expression
"Are you waiting to hear 'I love you'?" he murmured softly.
For a split second, her eyes became a mirror of everything she had spent years trying to hide-adoration, longing... and love. Outwardly, she stood frozen; inwardly, her soul was screaming, doing backflips of absolute bliss.
Before she could squeeze out a single word, Akutagawa continued, his voice surprisingly smooth, warm, and poetic:
"Look at you, Higuchi... always trying to gather the fruit before it ripens. Why force the season? Even the sweetest fruit turns bitter when plucked too soon."
(He murmurs softly, a faint, dazed smile touching his lips as his eyelids droop.)
"Why rush the hour? Even the sweetest things turn bitter when torn from time too soon."
For a split second, love triumphed over embarrassment
"So... soon?!" she gasped out, her voice squeaking hopelessly. "Does that mean... you actually love me, Senpai?!"
(Akutagawa leaned his head back against the leather sofa, looking down at her with a gentle, half-intoxicated haze in his eyes. He reached out slowly, his slender fingers weaving gently through her golden hair.)
"Neither you nor I can command such things."
(His hand reaches out with slow, uncharacteristic. warmth, fingers trailing along her cheek.)
"It is the heart that dictates its own tides, Higuchi. We are merely bound to follow where it leads."
(Higuchi completely short-circuited. Overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of his words, she threw herself onto his chest, burying her burning face into his coat and clinging to him as if she'd disappear if she let go.)
Akutagawa: (Resting his hand over her head with a faint, peaceful smile)
"So let us truly understand one another before we lose ourselves in passion After the cold of winter, only the warmth of spring remains. And I promise you... once I say 'I love you', your heart will never tire of hearing it."
Later that afternoon, Akutagawa stood by the window overlooking the gray cityscape, his arms crossed over his chest. The silence of his office should have allowed him to focus on the reports before him, yet his thoughts refused to cooperate. Against his own will, his mind wandered back to Higuchi's hopelessly flustered face from earlier that morning. A quiet scoff escaped his lips.
Foolish woman, he thought bitterly Reckless. Incapable of thinking before throwing herself into danger. She's nothing but an endless nuisance... always creating more work for me His eyes narrowed slightly. ".And yet she never leaves."
Before he could dwell on the thought any longer, the heavy doors burst open with a deafening crash. A Port Mafia subordinate stumbled inside, breathing heavily, his face drained of color. "Akutagawa-sama!" Akutagawa barely spared him a glance. "What is it?" "It's... Higuchi-san..." His expression remained perfectly calm. "If she failed another routine mission, deal with it yourself." "N-No, sir!" the subordinate stammered, his voice shaking. "She was ambushed during the western district patrol! She pushed the others out of the blast radius and took the explosion herself. She's been rushed to the Intensive Care Unit... The doctors say..." His voice faltered. "...they're not sure she'll survive."
For a brief moment, the world fell completely silent. The report slipped from Akutagawa's hand and drifted soundlessly onto the floor. Without warning, he closed the distance between them in an instant, seizing the subordinate by the collar with enough force to make the man gasp. "Where?" The single word came out low and sharp, carrying an intensity the subordinate had never heard before. "W-Which hospital?" His grip tightened. "...Answer me." Only then did Akutagawa notice it. His hand... was trembling. He released the man without another word and disappeared from the office before anyone could react.
Minutes later, the sterile hallway outside the Intensive Care Unit was filled with nothing but the rhythmic beeping of medical monitors. Akutagawa stood motionless before the glass window, his breathing unusually uneven as his eyes searched the room beyond. There she was lying perfectly still beneath stark white sheets, bandages wrapped around nearly every visible part of her body. Tubes and wires disappeared beneath the blanket while machines breathed in her place, each mechanical pulse reminding him just how fragile a human life truly was. For the first time, she wasn't smiling. She wasn't calling his name. She wasn't following a step behind him. She was simply... silent.
A doctor stepped out of the room, quietly removing his gloves. He glanced toward Akutagawa before asking in a calm voice, "Are you family?" Akutagawa remained silent. The words refused to come. He wasn't. He had no right to claim he was. "...I'm her superior," he answered at last. The doctor gave a slow nod before looking back through the glass. "Before she lost consciousness..." he said quietly, "...she kept repeating one name." Akutagawa's eyes lifted. "...Whose?" The doctor's gaze met his. "...Yours."
The doctor walked away, leaving nothing behind but silence.
Akutagawa slowly lifted a hand, resting it against the cold glass that separated them. His chest tightened with a pain unlike anything Rashomon had ever failed to shield him from. It wasn't physical. It was something far deeper... something he had spent years refusing to acknowledge. A warm drop slid down his cheek. His brows knit together almost imperceptibly. Another followed. Only then did he realize... he was crying. The tears fell silently, one after another, long before his mind could understand why.
"...Don't." The word escaped his lips as little more than a whisper. "...Don't leave." His forehead came to rest against the glass. For years, he had dismissed her devotion as nothing more than an annoyance. For years, he had convinced himself she was simply another subordinate. But standing there, watching her fragile body fight for every breath, every excuse he had ever made crumbled into dust. The thought of a world without Higuchi was suddenly unbearable. And for the first time in his life, Ryunosuke Akutagawa was terrified of losing her.
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