𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

27

Mr. Shimizu eyed the man standing before him, his gaze sharp and distrustful.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice low and guarded. They were standing outside Akira's hospital room, where she lay confined, writhing in agony that no medicine seemed able to ease.

Ezekiel winced as he heard her muffled cries seeping through the closed door, each one breaking his heart a little more. He hadn’t wanted things to go this far, but her pain was undeniable now. He’d followed her here, seeking help from his cousin, Eros, rather than Jade, who was currently on vacation in Syndril with Xavier. He hadn’t wanted to pull her from her much-needed break.

"I'm Ezekiel Morganthe, sir," he introduced himself, his voice steady despite the guilt gnawing at him.

"And what do you mean you can help my daughter with her illness?" Mr. Shimizu’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face.

Ezekiel hesitated, unable to admit the truth—that he was the cause of her suffering. He had tried to leave her, to set her free, believing that was what she needed. But he’d been wrong. His absence  had only left her broken, caught in a spiral of pain he’d never intended. How could he stand here and let her suffer like this?

“Yes, sir, that's correct,” Ezekiel replied, swallowing the turmoil in his chest.

Mr. Shimizu’s expression hardened. "The doctors can’t find any cause, and yet you know how to cure her? Are you some kind of healer? A shaman?"

Before Ezekiel could answer, Akira’s agonized cries pierced the quiet hallway, her pain intensifying even through the closed door. Mr. Shimizu turned without another word, rushing inside, and Ezekiel followed close behind. He braced himself, desperate to reach her, to end the suffering he had unintentionally caused.

As they entered, Ezekiel’s gaze fell on Akira, curled up on the hospital bed, her face twisted in pain. He stepped closer, feeling the heavy weight of responsibility in each step. He could only hope that he could be the balm for her agony, that he could find a way to mend what he’d broken.

🤍🤍🤍

AKIRA:

There he was, only inches from me. Through my blurred vision, I could still make out his face—standing tall, worry etched deep into his features.

"Eze…" I managed to whisper, and in an instant, he was by my side, his hand holding mine. Relief washed over me, soothing the ache as I struggled to sit up. All I wanted was to be close to him, to feel him, to know he was real. Tears spilled over as he helped me up, and I clung to him, burying my face in his chest, sobbing.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Human, monster—it didn’t make a difference. All I knew was that with him, the pain lessened, and I felt a warmth that medicine couldn’t provide. He wrapped his arms around me, rubbing my back gently, his presence melting away the ache in my chest.

I sighed, resting my head against his neck, feeling exhaustion settle in, a heavy, drowsy calm. His arms were a comfort I didn’t want to leave, and as my eyelids began to droop, I felt safe for the first time in days. I could finally let go, drifting into sleep in the only place that felt like home.

🤍🤍🤍

EZEKIEL:

There she was, lying on the hospital bed, her face pale and twisted in pain. I hadn’t seen her this broken, this vulnerable—and knowing I was the reason cut deeper than I could have ever imagined. Her eyes searched the room, blurry with tears, until they landed on me.

"Eze…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, but I heard it as if she’d shouted my name. In an instant, I was by her side, taking her hand. The relief in her eyes undid me completely, and I held her tightly as she struggled to sit up. I’d thought leaving her was the right thing to do, but seeing her like this, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.

She clung to me, her sobs shaking her whole body, and I could feel her pain as if it were my own. It didn’t matter that I was different from her, that I was something she couldn’t fully understand. In this moment, she didn’t care what I was, and for the first time, neither did I. All that mattered was that I was here, holding her, doing what I should have never stopped doing.

I wrapped my arms around her, rubbing her back, feeling her breaths start to slow, the pain in her chest easing with each passing moment. She sighed against my neck, her breath warm and soft, and as her tears began to fade, I felt a strange peace settling over me. Her grip loosened, her head resting against me, and I could feel the weight of exhaustion overtaking her.

Watching her eyelids droop, I knew she was finally slipping into sleep. I held her gently, afraid to let go, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I could be the peace she needed. And in that quiet moment, as she drifted off in my arms, I made a promise to myself: I would never leave her side again.

Mr. Shimizu’s eyes flickered between me and Akira, his expression a mix of gratitude and concern. He stood at a distance, his posture stiff, as if waiting for me to explain everything that had led to this moment. But for now, his gaze softened as he looked at his daughter, finally asleep, no longer writhing in pain.

I sat quietly by Akira’s side, not daring to move too much. The steady rise and fall of her chest brought a sense of relief, the tension in my body slowly unwinding as I watched over her. I hadn’t expected to feel such possessiveness, such protectiveness, but it surged through me, overwhelming and undeniable.

“Thank you,” Mr. Shimizu’s voice broke the silence. His tone was hoarse, strained, like a man who had been on the edge of losing his grip for far too long. “I don’t know who you are, or how you’ve been involved with my daughter, but I’m thankful you’re here.”

I nodded, keeping my gaze on Akira’s peaceful form. “She means a lot to me, sir. More than I can explain.”

His gaze sharpened slightly at my words, but he said nothing further, just watching Akira as if trying to convince himself that she was truly okay for the moment. The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words.

After a moment, Mr. Shimizu stepped closer, his hands clasped together in front of him. “How did you help her?” he asked, his voice a little firmer now, though the underlying worry never left. “We’ve seen doctors, tried everything, but nothing worked. You…you’re the reason she’s not in pain anymore. I need to know how.”

I swallowed hard, glancing at Akira’s sleeping face. “It’s complicated, sir. But what I did—it was the only way to ease her pain. It’s a side of me she might not understand, but I would never hurt her.”

Mr. Shimizu studied me for a moment longer, then sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I want to trust you,” he said, his voice quiet. “But I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t know what kind of man you are, Ezekiel. And I’m afraid for my daughter.”

I met his gaze, trying to convey all the things I couldn’t put into words. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, Mr. Shimizu. I won’t leave her side. I’ll keep her safe.”

His eyes softened just a little, a faint flicker of something like relief passing through him. “I can see that. But you better not break her heart.”

I nodded, my heart tightening at the weight of his words. “I won’t.”

The room fell into a heavy silence again, as I sat there, holding her hand, I felt like I was at a crossroads. I had a choice to make. And no matter how dangerous, how complicated, or how impossible it seemed, I knew one thing for sure: I wouldn’t let her go. Not now, not ever.