Eclipse

Chapter 2

Yui sat in the comfort of her VIP hospital room, the muted hum of the TV filling the space. The room was elegantly furnished, with plush bedding, a large window overlooking the city, and a variety of entertainment options at her fingertips. But despite the luxury, Yui felt trapped, like a bird in a gilded cage.

She stared at the screen, where her father and older brother were being interviewed. Her father spoke with practiced charm, answering questions about his booming business, which had made headlines these past few years. Behind him, her brother stood like a silent sentinel, more for show than protection. He wasn't a bodyguard—he was the heir, the shining son of a billionaire, exuding the power and prestige that came with it. His expression was unreadable, but Yui knew he was probably basking in the attention, enjoying the way people fawned over him.

Yui's eyes narrowed as she watched them. She didn't want to see either of them—especially not her father, who had placed her in this hospital not out of concern for her health but to boost his public image as a caring parent. The luxurious accommodations, the private room, the attentive staff—it was all for show. Her father wanted the world to see him as a doting father, but Yui knew better. He didn't care about her. If he did, he wouldn't have left her to rot in this hospital, cut off from the world.

Her brother was no different. To him, Yui was invisible, a mere burden who didn't fit into the pristine image of their family. He had always looked down on her, treating her like a fragile doll that might break if he even acknowledged her existence. She could die alone, and he wouldn't bat an eye. In fact, he might even be relieved to have one less problem to deal with.

With a quick flick of the remote, she changed the channel, the interview vanishing in a flash. The old drama she had stumbled upon was a familiar one, something she had watched back in high school. The nostalgia of it pulled her in, the tragic love story between a girl with a heart condition and a reluctant boy. Yui sighed, sinking deeper into the pillows, the sweet taste of mandarin lingering on her tongue. A young boy had given it to her earlier, his innocent admiration brightening her day.

She smiled at the memory. The boy had been so earnest, his cheeks flushed as he handed her the fruit. "You're really pretty, miss," he had said, his voice shy but sincere. "You can have one of my mandarins." It had been such a small gesture, but to Yui, it meant the world. In a place where she often felt invisible, that simple act of kindness had made her feel seen.

The door to her room slid open, breaking her from her thoughts. Yui looked up to see Dr. Shuntaro Chishiya, her favorite doctor, striding in. His blonde hair caught the light, his cat-like eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on the mandarin in her hand. He was dressed in his usual white coat, the stethoscope draped casually around his neck, but there was something about him that always seemed a bit detached, like he was observing the world from a distance.

He sat down beside her, pointing to the fruit in her hand. "Where did you get that from?" he asked, his voice as calm and cool as ever.

"A little guy gave it to me," Yui replied with a grin. "He said I was too pretty not to share it with."

Chishiya's expression didn't change, but there was a slight tilt to his lips as he accepted the piece she offered. Yui hoped he'd eat it from her hand, but he simply took it, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"You must be thrilled to have an admirer," he said, his tone flat.

Yui laughed, leaning closer. "Jealous?"

Chishiya ignored the question, his eyes shifting to the TV. "What drama is this?"

"It's an old one," Yui explained. "I watched it in high school. It's about a girl who falls in love with a guy who doesn't like her at first, but then he slowly starts to reciprocate her love. But she has a heart disease... just like me."

Chishiya's gaze flicked back to her, a frown pulling at his lips. "And you like it?"

Yui nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! It's sad, but it's also romantic. She dies at the end, but she dies in his arms. That's something, right?"

"She dies, and you think that's romantic?" Chishiya asked, his frown deepening.

Yui met his gaze, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Let's go on a date, Dr. Shuntaro."

Chishiya shook his head, a sigh escaping him. "I can never tell what's going on in that head of yours."

Yui giggled, but her laughter faded as she realized something. "Wait, why are you here?" She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. It wasn't like him to just drop by without a reason.

Chishiya avoided her eyes, his expression unreadable. Before she could press him further, the door slid open again. Her father stepped inside, his presence filling the room with a cold air. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his suit tailored to perfection. His eyes, however, were hard, lacking the warmth one might expect from a father visiting his sick daughter.

"Is this a bad time?" her father asked, his tone formal, almost business-like.

Chishiya rose immediately, his demeanor shifting back to professional. "No, I'm done here. She's all yours, Mr. Aikawa." He turned to Yui, giving her head a gentle pat before walking out.

Yui watched him go, a pang of disappointment hitting her as the door closed behind him. The room felt colder now, more oppressive with her father standing in it. He approached her bed slowly, his gaze assessing, as if she were just another asset to be managed.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice devoid of warmth.

"Never better," Yui replied curtly, turning her attention back to the TV. The drama was reaching a pivotal moment, but she couldn't focus on it anymore. Her father's presence was too distracting, a reminder of everything she wanted to escape from.

Her father nodded, clearly uninterested in her well-being. "I'm going to Canada for work. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

Yui's eyes flicked back to him, a sudden urge bubbling up inside her. "Can I be discharged? I don't want to stay here anymore."

Her father's eyebrows rose, surprise flashing across his face. "I've given you a perfect room, perfect service, and you want to leave? You're not capable of living on your own."

"I don't want to die here," Yui said, her voice steady. "At least let me die somewhere beautiful."

Her father sighed, exasperation clear in his eyes. "Where would that be?"

Yui glanced at the TV, the screen showing a bustling scene of Shibuya Crossing. The crowd moved in waves, people rushing in every direction, yet there was something mesmerizing about it. "Shibuya Crossing," she blurted out, the words slipping out before she could think.

Her father looked confused, and Yui quickly shook her head. "No, sorry, that's just on the TV. But seriously, I promise I won't do anything stupid. I just want to live in my apartment in peace. This room is suffocating me."

Her father was silent for a moment, considering her request. His eyes narrowed slightly as if weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he spoke. "Fine. But whatever happens to you outside, I won't be responsible."

Yui chuckled sadly, unsurprised by his words. It was a declaration that if she left the hospital, they would no longer be family, merely strangers. Perhaps they had always been strangers, connected only by blood and the expectations that came with it.

"Fine by me," she said, turning back to the TV, the image of Shibuya Crossing still flashing in her mind. It was chaotic, noisy, full of life—everything this hospital wasn't. And maybe, just maybe, it was the kind of place where she could finally feel alive, even if only for a moment.