10:30 a.m. — Fujiwara Multimedia, the Quiet Distance
The office buzzed with the low hum of printers, tapping keyboards, and voices muffled by glass partitions. It was a typical morning at Fujiwara Multimedia, yet something in the air today was different—quieter, denser. As though the building itself was holding its breath.
📁 Marketing Floor
Ren—no, Fushiguro Ren as the badge on his lanyard stated—walked through the sleek corridor with his usual composed air, a black file tucked under his arm. His expression was impassive, sharp as always, but there was a strange flicker behind his golden eyes.
He felt her presence before he saw her.
She stood by the copier machine in the distance—Yume, adjusting the edges of a manuscript draft. Her profile was calm, her focus unwavering. Her long lashes cast crescent shadows across her cheeks. She hadn't noticed him.
Or maybe she had—and was pretending she hadn't.
Ren's steps faltered just slightly.
> "Why do I feel like she's someone I lost once… and haven't forgiven myself for?"
He quickly looked away, veering toward the meeting room as if distracted. But the air had shifted. It had that same weight as the dream. That same pull.
> "Shirayume. Why do I keep hearing that name when I look at her?"
---
🕊️ Writing Department Side
Yume's hands paused briefly over the paper, fingers curling against the edge of the sheet.
She didn't look up.
But she knew he had just walked past.
> He's here.
Why do I feel like he's the end of a sentence I began in another life?
Her chest felt tight—not with embarrassment or awkwardness. It was recognition without memory. And grief without cause.
> "Arashi…"
The name echoed again in her mind.
She blinked hard, trying to clear it. No. That was just a dream. A hallucination. Right?
She straightened her papers, then made her way back to her desk, her heels echoing lightly against the tile.
Ren was already seated at the conference table across the glass room, reviewing slides on his laptop. He didn't look up. Neither did she.
They existed like parallel lines, moving in tandem but never meeting.
---
☕ Cafeteria — 12:15 PM
The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual noise of lunchtime conversations and clinking cutlery. Laughter broke from the writing team's table. Marketing interns clustered around Kai, laughing at something Ayaka had just deadpanned.
Yume stepped in quietly, tray in hand, looking around instinctively.
Her gaze landed on him, sitting in the far-left corner, alone at a table with his coffee and sandwich half-eaten. He was reading something on his phone. Unmoving. Stoic.
For a second, their eyes almost met.
But then she turned.
And so did he.
Ren took a slow sip of coffee, pretending to be absorbed in the screen.
> "Why is it harder to look at her now than it was before?"
> "Because I think I've already said goodbye to her once. And I don't know how to greet her without mourning."
Yume found an empty spot beside Leo and Minako, who were deep in conversation. She smiled and laughed when they cracked a joke, but her eyes drifted unconsciously toward the window—toward the blurred reflection of his table behind her.
---
🧠 Inner Thoughts — At the Same Time
Ren:
> "Last night… it wasn't a dream. I could feel the way she clung to me, the way she cried out when they took us apart. That wasn't fiction."
> "But I can't ask her. If I speak of it, I'm not just breaking character—I'm tearing open something fate tried to sew shut."
> "Besides, I'm Fushiguro here. Not Ren Fujiwara. And she's Yume—not Shirayume. Not yet."
Yume:
> "His eyes. That fire—golden, like the Kitsune in my vision."
"I want to ask him: do you remember the red thread too? But how would I say that without sounding mad?"
> "And I keep hearing Sai's words from last night… about destiny, about the cost of choices. What if I was never meant to reach him again?"
---
🔚 End of Scene – The Lingering Silence
They left the cafeteria at separate times.
Ren brushed past her once in the corridor, a quiet "Excuse me" exchanged like a leaf on still water.
She nodded back, eyes not quite meeting his.
But inside?
Their hearts were screaming.
Not in love.
Not yet.
But in recognition.
Of something once beautiful and now fractured—trying to find itself in the silence between two strangers wearing borrowed names.
Late Afternoon Sunlight
The sunlight was soft, turning the polished black car into a mirror. Yume stood on the pavement, her posture poised, but her eyes distant.
Then she heard the door click shut behind her, and he was there—leaning casually against the side of the car like he had all the time in the world.
"Sai," she said quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yume," he replied with a half-smile. "Still pretending not to hate it when I appear unannounced?"
She managed a faint smile. "You do have a talent for appearing when I least expect you."
Sai's laugh was soft but hollow. "Or maybe you expect me more than you admit."
> He stepped closer. Not too close—but just enough to make the air between them tighten.
"You changed your hair," he said, his voice light. "Longer than before. It suits you."
"People change," she said simply, eyes not quite meeting his.
Sai hummed. "Do they? Or do they just wear new skins and call it growing up?"
That stopped her.
Her eyes flickered to his face—sharp jawline, elegant clothes, warm tone hiding something colder beneath.
> Always hiding something.
---
Pause. Weighted Silence.
The breeze brushed against her cheek. Somewhere behind them, the low rumble of another car passing by masked the silence.
She spoke without turning to him.
"You said it was urgent. Why did you want to meet here?"
"Must I always need a reason?" Sai replied smoothly. "You've been difficult to reach lately. A cousin can worry, can't he?"
Yume tilted her head, voice barely above a whisper.
"I never asked you to worry."
Sai's smile didn't falter. But his eyes dimmed slightly.
"No," he said, stepping around to face her now, his voice softer. "But I always have."
---
A Glimpse Beneath the Mask
She finally met his eyes. And for a moment, just one—something flickered there.
> Not the confident, polished man who held himself like a prince of old blood.
> But something older. More ancient. More… hungry.
"I saw you yesterday," he said suddenly.
Yume tensed. "Where?"
"In the cafeteria. Fujiwara Multimedia."
That stopped her breath.
His smile sharpened slightly. "You didn't see me, of course. You were... focused. On someone else."
> She didn't answer. Couldn't.
---
The Unspoken Jealousy
Sai tilted his head.
"He must be interesting, this... 'Fushiguro Ren.'"
His voice was almost mocking.
Yume flinched slightly, but kept her tone composed. "He's just a co-worker."
Sai's smile faded just a little. "You always said that about me too."
She finally let herself sigh. "Sai…"
But he cut in before she could finish.
"I'm not here to argue," he said, stepping back to open the door for her. "Sakura's already inside waiting. Let's not keep her."
Yume hesitated for a second… then stepped into the car.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Sai leaned down through the window, his voice low enough that only she could hear:
> "You can lie to them, Yumeha. To Sakura. To the people in that building. Even to yourself, if you like."
"But one day… you'll remember everything. And when you do—don't be surprised if I'm the only one still waiting for you."
---
🖤 In the Car, Yume's Thoughts
She turned her head away from him and stared out the window.
Her reflection in the glass stared back—calm, unreadable.
But inside, a voice was whispering:
> "There's something wrong about him. Something I forgot. Something… dangerous."
Inside the Glass Garden Café — Early Evening
The café was bathed in soft golden light, sunlight pouring through greenhouse-style windows framed by lush greenery. Crystals hung from the chandeliers like falling stars, refracting specks of rainbow across polished tabletops.
Sakura was already seated in a corner booth—dressed effortlessly chic, tapping her phone with a perfectly manicured finger.
As Yume and Sai approached, she looked up and gave a warm smile—eyes flicking from Yume to Sai and back with keen curiosity.
Sakura:
"Finally. You two took your time. I was starting to think this was a secret date."
Yume chuckled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Sai answered smoothly before she could.
Sai:
"Wouldn't be a secret if you already knew, would it?"
Sakura rolled her eyes. "Still so theatrical."
They sat. Sai slid into the booth across from Sakura, Yume beside her sister-in-law. A waiter came and went. Orders were placed—matcha, citrus tea, a single espresso.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward, but it was... heavy.
---
☁️ Light Conversation, Hidden Tension
Sakura:
"So, how's work going, Yume? You look like someone with stories."
Yume nodded. "It's... fast-paced. Exhausting. But good. I'm learning a lot."
Sai (smirking):
"And what about that mysterious intern you mentioned last time, the one with the 'eyes like wildfire'? Still working beside you?"
Sakura perked up.
Sakura:
"Oh? Who's this now?"
Yume's throat tightened slightly. She shot a quick glare at Sai, but he looked back innocently.
Yume (lightly):
"He's just... someone in the Marketing department. Fushiguro Ren. That's all."
Sakura caught the shift in tone instantly. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but her smile didn't fade.
Sakura:
"Hmm. 'Just someone'... with wildfire eyes, huh?"
Yume let out a breath, half-laughing, half-exasperated.
Sai leaned back in his seat, folding his arms casually.
Sai:
"I saw him too. Not bad looking. But there's something… odd about him. Isn't there?"
Yume:
"Odd?"
He looked at her then—long, searching.
Sai (quietly):
"You ever feel like someone reminds you of someone you've never met?"
Yume froze.
Sakura blinked at the odd question.
Sakura (half-joking):
"Wow, okay. That's weirdly deep for you."
Sai smiled, but the sharpness in his eyes didn't fade.
> "Not weird," he said silently to himself. "Just familiar."
---
🌒 The Mask Slips
As they sipped their drinks, the conversation meandered—books, family gossip, new gallery openings.
But Yume couldn't relax.
There was something about Sai's energy today. Beneath the usual teasing charm, he felt… watchful. Too focused. His gaze lingered too long when Sakura looked away.
At one point, Yume reached for her drink and brushed against Sai's hand.
She jerked back. Not out of shyness—but instinct.
Sai's voice dropped slightly, softer now.
Sai (to Yume):
"Do you ever wonder if this life is just... another skin, Yume?"
> Her breath caught.
The words clung to her like fog.
Yume (quietly):
"What do you mean?"
He smiled, but it didn't warm his face.
Sai:
"Nothing. Just déjà vu, maybe."
Sakura, sipping her citrus tea, side-eyed him.
Sakura:
"You're in a strange mood today, Sai."
Sai (shrugging):
"Aren't we all? The weather, the moon, fate, who knows."
---
🖤 Yume's Internal Monologue
> Why did his words feel like riddles? Why did they echo in her bones?
Something isn't right.
Something in him feels like a door I've closed before—and he's trying to open it again.
As Sai stepped away to take a phone call
Behind the Glass Garden Café, just after parting ways with Yume and Sakura.
The stars above Tenshin were hidden behind thick clouds, the city lights casting a silver glow over the rooftop. Sai stood alone, his phone pressed to his ear. His eyes burned—not with passion, but with something colder.
The line clicked alive.
A soft, honey-smooth voice came through.
Mizu (quietly, almost eagerly):
"Sai. I felt your presence shift again. You called first this time."
A pause. Sai didn't answer right away. He stared down at the traffic moving below.
Sai (low):
"Where are you?"
Mizu (gently):
"Still at the dorms. The human life is exhausting, but... I'm adjusting. It's strange. They smile when they're sad. They laugh when they're breaking."
She tried to sound cheerful. But Sai didn't care.
Sai (sharply):
"She loves someone else."
The silence on the other end thickened.
Mizu (softly):
"...Yumeha?"
Sai's jaw clenched.
Sai:
"Shirayume. Don't call her by that human name."
Mizu's voice broke slightly—too soft, too real.
Mizu:
"She chose that name, Sai. It's who she is now."
He ignored her. His voice grew rough, strangled.
Sai (furious):
"She looks at him the same way she used to look at me. With that quiet fire. With faith."
Mizu (in a small voice):
"Him…?"
Sai:
"That intern. Fushiguro. Ren Fujiwara. The Fox."
A sharp inhale from Mizu.
Mizu (painfully):
"The Kitsune is... reincarnated?"
Sai (bitter laugh):
"They don't know who they are. But their souls remember."
He leaned forward, knuckles white on the railing.
Sai (whispering):
"I won't let it happen again."
> "I destroyed them once," he whispered like a curse, "and I will do it again."
Mizu's voice wavered.
Mizu:
"Sai… why are you still chasing her? Even now? I—I followed you here. I let go of heaven. I walked into this stupid, heavy world just to be near you. I wear this human body like it's mine, but it's not. And still... you only say her name."
Sai's voice did not soften.
Sai:
"She was always mine."
Mizu (voice cracking):
"She never was."
Tears welled in Mizu's eyes, alone in her room in the girls' dormitory at Tenshin University. Her celestial soul trembled under her human shell. Every time he said Shirayume, she bled a little more.
Mizu (pleading):
"I'm here. I've always been here. You became human for her, I became human for you."
Sai (stone-cold):
"Then prove it."
Mizu stilled.
Sai (darkly):
"Get close to her. Watch her. Make sure Ren never gets near her soul. I'll finish what I started a thousand years ago. I'll shatter the thread they cling to."
Mizu's voice dropped to a whisper.
Mizu:
"And when it's done...?"
Sai's voice flickered—just a hint of something almost kind.
Sai:
"Then maybe I'll finally forget her."
That maybe crushed her more than anything.
Sakura Begins to Notice
As Sai stepped away to take a phone call, Sakura leaned toward Yume.
Sakura (softly):
"Is everything okay with him?"
Yume hesitated. "...He's always been strange."
Sakura (whispering):
"Strange I can handle. But that look in his eyes—it's like he's waiting for something. From you."
Yume's fingers curled slightly around her cup.
> She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
---
🔚 End of Scene Transition
Sai returned, his smile smooth again.
But Yume didn't miss the way he looked at her—like someone trying to remember a dream they once destroyed.
🌧️ After the Call
Mizu stared at her own reflection in the mirror. Her human face. Her human tears. She touched the edge of her collarbone—right where her divine mark used to shimmer before she fell.
> "I gave up eternity for him," she whispered.
"And all he sees is a ghost."