Rewrite Our Love? Too Late-Chapter 121: The Night We Shared, The Morning We Begin

Fingers flew across the keyboard.

In the realm of storytelling—whether one penned a light novel or a multi-volume epic—most authors followed a certain rhythm: set the stage, then shape the outline. The outline acted as the skeleton, a map through chaos. Yet, some defied convention, claiming their plot lived only in their minds. They relied on instinct, writing from the heart, letting the characters guide them rather than the other way around.

But Yukima Azuma's approach tonight was something else entirely.

He had begun not with a premise, nor a middle act, but with the end.

Yes—this light novel, born for a singular purpose, existed to rewrite someone's ending. And so, the first words that formed on the screen weren't the introduction, but the conclusion. A girl falling from an overpass. A boy racing desperately to save her.

Would he catch her in time?

Azuma didn't write that part.

Because that wasn't for him to decide.

He finished the last line, fingers slowing to a stop. Stretching with a quiet sigh, his elbow accidentally brushed against a soft hand.

Only then did Yukima Azuma remember—he wasn't alone.

Kurokawa Akane stood behind him, silent and still like a shadow.

A glance at the corner of the screen revealed the time: over three hours had passed.

She hadn't said a word.

Those faint taps on his shoulder earlier—he had dismissed them in his focus. But she hadn't left. Not even once.

As he stood, her hand fell to her side, drained of all strength.

For a moment, Azuma froze. His original plan—to give her something to do, to anchor her mind—now felt hollow. She looked so... fragile. Numb. Like a marionette on the edge of snapping.

He said nothing. Sometimes silence was kinder.

But still, he remembered. Remembered this moment and hoped, selfishly, that she would too.

He made his way to the bed in the room.

A pristine double bed with crisp, snow-white sheets. The kind hotels use to feign comfort, to lie that everything is okay.

Sitting down, he sank slightly into the mattress. "Guardian, it's late," he said quietly. "Come sleep with me."

His voice was teasing, half in jest—but the plea behind it was unmistakable.

Kurokawa Akane looked at him. She didn't question it. Didn't tease him back. Instead, she simply nodded.

"I'll stay with you. I won't leave until you fall asleep."

To her, he seemed like a child—lost, clinging to the presence of another to survive the dark.

Azuma didn't deny it. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

Instead, he tilted his head, almost shyly. "Just sitting, huh? Guardian, could you give me a hug?"

"Every cold, sleepless night," he murmured, "I crave a warm embrace."

"Humans can go about eleven days without sleep..." he added absently.

He didn't get to finish. Before he could say "before they die," Akane had already stepped forward.

With arms trembling from fatigue, she leaned in and hugged him tightly.

And just like that, the two of them fell gently backward onto the soft bed.

The white sheets wrinkled beneath their bodies as they collapsed into each other.

Her body, light and warm, nestled into his.

Azuma could still detect the faintest trace of blood—a phantom scent lingering from earlier.

But he didn't want to turn off his hyperaware state. He'd grown used to clinging to even the most unpleasant of sensations.

So, to ground himself, he rested his chin in the crook of her neck. Her hair was silky black, draping across his face, carrying the scent of shampoo that overpowered the fading metallic trace.

They left the lights on.

Let the night see them.

Let the world know they were still breathing.

Some time later, the phone buzzed softly.

Azuma reached for it and opened Line. A new message blinked at him.

MEM:

Trouble! Akane-chan is missing! Her mom says the window in her room was open—and she's gone!!!

Azuma blinked.

Then he turned to the girl lying in his arms. Kurokawa Akane was curled against him, her small head rising and falling gently with each breath. Her arms still wrapped around his neck.

Even in sleep, her brows were faintly furrowed. A nightmare's echo lingered.

Azuma reached up and gently smoothed the creases between her brows. Then he lifted his phone again.

Azuma:

[She's with me.]

[Akane is sleeping.jpg]

[Regarding her mother, I leave that to you, MEM-san. Right now, she's not okay, and it's safer she stays with me.]

MEM:

[???]

[Cat-face-questioning.jpg]

["The other party is typing..."]

He watched the screen. Two minutes passed. Still no response.

He switched the phone off and tossed it aside.

"Sleep," he murmured.

Elsewhere.

MEM stared at the screen, eyes wide. She was in the Kurokawa household, still drenched from the rain.

Is this real...? Is he serious?!

She zoomed in on the photo Azuma sent, then zoomed out. Then did it again.

The image felt so unreal it might as well have been Photoshopped.

These two hadn't even met until this afternoon... and now they were... sleeping together?

How the hell was she supposed to explain this to Akane's mom?

With a long sigh, MEM walked over to Mrs. Kurokawa and hesitantly raised her phone.

"Um... Aunt Kurokawa, Akane-chan is safe. She's with a friend of mine. He saved her earlier today."

Mrs. Kurokawa rushed over. MEM showed her the messages.

Relief washed over her face—then confusion. Her daughter... who had never even mentioned a boyfriend... was now sleeping beside a boy?

But just as she opened her mouth, something stopped her.

She remembered everything—the bullying, the secrecy, how her daughter had smiled through pain to avoid worrying her.

What mattered most wasn't appearances or propriety.

What mattered was Akane's safety.

And in that photo, her daughter finally looked at peace.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry... my daughter never tells me anything," Mrs. Kurokawa whispered. "As long as she's safe... that's enough. Please... please look after her."

MEM nodded, hugging the woman as she cried into her shoulder.

At least for now, things were okay.

She glanced at her phone again.

That boy... what kind of "job" was he planning to give Akane?

Wait—was he going to have a kid with her or something?!

MEM:

[I explained things. Aunt Kurokawa's calmed down.]

[Thank me later! This kind of high-stress task and you dump it on me!]

[Where are you even?]

[Aaaa! You're so unfair!]

And then—no response.

She sighed.

Late at night, in the rain, MEM wasn't even sure what she was doing anymore.

The next morning.

The rain still whispered against the windowpanes.

The sky stayed overcast. Pale gray light filtered through, casting soft shadows.

Inside the soundproof guesthouse room, a stillness hung.

On the bed, Kurokawa Akane stirred.

Her eyes opened, red-rimmed from old tears.

She had barely slept in days—especially last night, when the weight of scandal crushed her into despair. She had spent the entire night scrolling, reading, tormenting herself with every vile comment.

She had been on the brink.

And then... he appeared.

That boy.

His face rose in her memory, clear and sharp.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she had slept.

Not out of exhaustion—but because the chaos had finally quieted.

Because someone had held her and said nothing.

Still, her expression remained blank.

She wasn't healed. Not yet.

At this moment, she was more machine than human—her heart too scarred to feel. All incoming emotions were paused, waiting behind a dam.

There was only one directive now.

Protect the boy.

She didn't know why. It wasn't logical. But it was truth.

She turned.

Yukima Azuma was already awake, eyes watching her quietly.

"Good morning, guardian," he said gently.

She didn't respond.

"Guardian," he said with a smile, "I'm hungry. Will you make breakfast?"

"I'll go make it now. Wait here for me, okay? Don't wander off."

He sat up.

And slowly, like a machine receiving a command, Akane began to rise.

The morning had begun.

But neither of them knew what kind of day awaited them.