Ravihiro woke up to the dull morning light filtering through the broken shutters, his head pounding with a dull ache. The room was a disaster—furniture overturned, the walls cracked, and fragments of the shattered divine and demonic stones scattered on the floor. Confusion gnawed at him; his last memories were hazy, nothing but a blur of pain and overwhelming power.
He tried to move, feeling a strange balance within his body, a dual energy coursing through his veins. The once distinct flows of divine and demonic energy had somehow settled within him, though it felt precarious, as if one wrong move might shatter the fragile balance he had unknowingly achieved.
But his concern quickly shifted to Rumina. A sudden, cold fear gripped him—she had come into the room, he was sure of it. Had he hurt her? Ignoring the mess around him, he threw on his clothes, not bothering to clean up, and rushed out the door.
Heart racing, Ravihiro made his way to Rumina's room. He paused outside, hesitating for a moment before slowly pushing the door open. There she was, lying on her bed, the soft light illuminating her pale face. Bandages were wrapped around her arms and neck, and she looked exhausted, her breathing slow but steady.
"Rumina…" His voice was barely a whisper as he stepped inside, his eyes scanning her injuries with growing guilt. "Did… did you come into my room?" he asked, already knowing the answer but dreading it all the same.
Rumina's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. She looked at him, her expression a mix of pain and relief. "Yes, I did," she said softly, her voice steady despite her condition.
A knot tightened in Ravihiro's stomach. "What happened? I can't remember… I wasn't in control." He looked down, his fists clenching. "Please, tell me I didn't… did I hurt you?"
Rumina's gaze softened. She shifted slightly, wincing at the pain, and sat up to face him. "You lost control. The energies… they took over, and you tried to attack me. But it's alright," she said, forcing a reassuring smile. "I managed to knock you out before anything worse happened."
Ravihiro's eyes widened with shock. His knees buckled, and he sank down beside her bed. "I'm so sorry, Rumina… I never wanted to put you in danger. I was reckless. Let me… let me heal your injuries," he pleaded, his voice cracking with remorse.
Rumina hesitated for a moment before nodding, watching as Ravihiro gently placed his hands over her bandaged arms. A warm glow enveloped them as his newfound energies swirled and intertwined, directed with care and precision. Her wounds slowly began to close, the worst of the damage fading away, though a few marks remained as silent reminders.
"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, touched by his sincerity. Ravihiro's hands trembled as he pulled away, guilt still weighing heavily in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Rumina," he repeated, the words falling from his lips like a mantra. "I never wanted to lose control like that… I don't remember what happened, but if I hurt you in any way—"
"You didn't," Rumina interrupted gently, placing a hand over his. She couldn't bring herself to tell him the whole truth—not yet. She didn't want him to bear that burden, not when he was already struggling with the weight of his own guilt. "What's important is that you're alright, and I'm alright. That's all that matters now."
Ravihiro looked at her, uncertainty and gratitude mingling in his gaze. He gave a faint nod, though the shadows of doubt still lingered in his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she wasn't telling him, but he chose not to press further. Instead, he swore silently to himself that he would never let this happen again, never lose control like that, no matter the cost.
He stood up slowly, his body now more stable, and helped Rumina lie back down. "Rest now," he said, his voice soft and full of regret. "I'll make sure nothing like this happens again."
As he turned to leave, Rumina watched him go, her heart heavy. She knew he had changed, a new strength within him tempered by the scars of his own self-doubt. She only hoped he would learn to trust himself—and her—before the darkness within him threatened to consume them both.