An Arranged Marriage//(GIYUSANE)

Chapter 31|| 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

"Wha-what?" I stammered, the blood rushing from my head, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy. My legs felt weak, as if the ground beneath me had suddenly shifted.

"Why... why?" I pushed back from the table, my chair scraping against the floor. I stood, my body trembling with a mixture of anger and fear.

"Why are you only telling me this now?!" I shouted, my voice cracking with frustration. My eyes burned with a mix of worry and fury.

"I've been worrying-" I began, but my father cut me off, his voice a harsh, angry roar.

"Can you do anything after we tell you about it?! He's in serious condition, he's in a coma!!" He slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the room, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation.

"I will go to him," I said, my voice firm, each word a promise.

"No," he said, his tone cold and unforgiving. "Not until you learn everything you need to." His words were a wall, a barrier that I couldn't seem to penetrate. I knew, deep down, that he was right.

I retreated to my room, my body shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face, a torrent of grief and helplessness.

So that's why I had felt that unsettling unease, that gnawing worry. It had been a premonition, a whisper of the pain that was to come.

From this moment, I would dedicate myself to learning everything, to mastering everything, to becoming the person my father needed me to be. Then, I would go to him.

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Six months passed.

I was hunched over my desk, my room a mess of papers and scattered plans.

The company's annual celebration was approaching, and I wanted to be the one to plan it, to create something spectacular, something that would impress my father. I hadn't slept in days, my mind racing with ideas, trying to find the perfect concept.

A knock on the door startled me.

"Come in," I called, my voice raspy from lack of sleep.

The door creaked open, revealing my mother. Her face was etched with worry, her eyes filled with a deep, unspoken concern.

"Giyuu?" she said, her voice soft, laced with apprehension. "You're working really hard."  She set a steaming mug of coffee down on my desk, her hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment, a silent gesture of comfort.

"But you should still rest, you know?" she said, her eyes brimming with a pain that mirrored my own. "Mom is worried. You're pushing yourself so hard, and it's all because of one person... you really do love him. But don't overwork yourself, Giyuu. You might not get to see him if your body gives up."

A smile tugged at my lips, a bittersweet expression that reflected the conflicting emotions swirling within me.

"Mom, don't worry," I said, trying to reassure her. "It's just for now. After I finish this, I'll get some rest. I just want this event to be perfect. I'm presenting it to everyone tomorrow, and I'm scared I might fail."

"I understand," she said, her fingers gently brushing through my hair. "I understand."

She turned to leave, a quiet sadness lingering in her eyes.

"I'm leaving," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

As the door closed behind her, a wave of happiness washed over me.  My mother's visit, her concern, her unspoken support, had filled me with a renewed sense of hope. I knew I could do this.

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A wave of applause erupted from the room, a symphony of approval that washed over me.  The executives, my colleagues, all seemed genuinely impressed with my vision for the event. I met my father's gaze across the room, and his eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with a rare, proud smile.

In that moment, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Maybe, this was it.

"Good job," Dad said, his voice a low rumble as we settled into the car. He was studying some papers, his brow furrowed in concentration, but his words were a balm to my weary soul.

"You really did a very good job," he said, finally looking up, his gaze meeting mine. A genuine smile touched his lips, a rare sight that warmed me from the inside out.

"And like I said," he continued, his voice softer now, "you can meet Sanemi whenever you want."

My eyes widened, a wave of pure, unadulterated joy washing over me.  It was finally happening.

But the next thing Dad said washed away the happiness I felt.

"What... what do you mean, Dad?" I asked, my voice catching in my throat. "Lost memory? Why... why are you just telling me this now?" Tears welled up in my eyes again, blurring my vision.

"His memory can come back, you know," Dad said, avoiding my gaze. "But they don't know when. Maybe when he sees you, it'll come back.  So you should probably go with him."

He told me where he was, set up a flight for me to meet him, and all I needed to do was get there... hoping he would remember me. 

The thought of him, possibly remembering me, filled me with a mixture of hope and fear. 

What if he didn't remember me?  What if he didn't want to see me?  The questions swirled in my mind, a storm of emotions threatening to consume me.