As Ryu cradled the tiny infant in her arms, tears streamed down her face. She sobbed uncontrollably, leaning her head onto the baby she had carefully embraced. Her throat hummed a comforting tune from deep within her memories, meant for her dearest sunflower—little Himawari. Ryu whispered softly, her voice bringing comfort to the soft cries. "I won't allow you to ever be a part of this, my little one," she whispered, continuing to soothe the infant with her melodic hum

Ryu's eyes fixated on the dark sky outside the hospital window with a fierce determination. Holding her child tightly, her mind was consumed by one single desire—to escape this place, to flee from the painful memories that had replaced all traces of joy. Her heart filled with a powerful resolve to protect her innocent newborn from the pain that enveloped her own life.

Ryu knew it was not just the town that had drained her of hope and dreams. It was the people, each one contributing to her sense of isolation and despair. However, holding her daughter—her own little bundle of warmth—she found a glimmer of light in the darkness. This precious baby, her only family in the world, symbolized hope and a reason to start anew.

Ryu's jaw clenched as the deep voice from the other side of the hospital room inquired, "Where will you go?" She tried to withhold her answer, yet the speaker was likely the one person who still held a modicum of her trust.

"Anywhere that isn't here," Ryu responded with an air of sarcasm, her gaze fixated on the dark skies outside. "A place where no one will ever find us."

The voice on the other side attempted to reason with her, "Would it be wise, considering you...?" But Ryu cut them off, her voice firm.

"I don't care if it's wise or not. I need this—for Himawari."

The voice tried again, its concerned tone evident in its next words."What about you? You are not..."

Ryu scoffed while shaking her head," What I feel is only one thing and my desire overpowers it."

The older male persisted with his concerns, pressing, "Do you really think it will be easy?"

Ryu, the young woman, couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, her smile forced and her eyes still filled with a sense of darkness. "You surely have plenty of questions for me."

The male voice softened, his tone laced with sincerity, "Because you are like a daughter to me, Ryu."

Ryu's voice carried a tone of resignation as she spoke,"While the sentiment is nice, I don't think I deserve such a role...not after all I have put you through...after all, I have put him through..."

The older male attempted to offer comfort, reassuring her,"The way you reacted is perfectly normal for most. I can assure you that he won't..."

But Ryu's voice cracked as she interjected, "He is only a child, one that looked up to me, and seeing what he turned into...I couldn't help but...feel sick..."

"As I said, Ryu," the older male repeated, his voice gentle yet firm, "despite how you reacted, you still care for him, right?"

Ryu's frustration mounted as she clenched her jaw, holding back the urge to raise her voice.

"Of course! Nothing will change how I feel, and it never will!"

The older male pressed on, his voice tinged with an urgency,"Then stay! Stay and—"

Ryu's head lowered as fresh tears streamed down her face, her voice cracking as she spoke,"I'm sorry, Kazuma... I am sorry..."

She lowered her voice, her words choked with emotion,"If I stay...who knows what that man will do...I am nothing but a stranger—an intruder! Heavens forbid if I ever put my own daughter at risk, I'd never forgive myself..."

Kazuma's determination to convince her to stay faded as the weight of her words sank in. He realized that he couldn't continue to press her, not when she was already deeply immersed in pain.

"You might feel like you're an intruder," he said softly,"but you're wrong...Ryu."

Ryu let out a strained and painful laugh, her voice tinged with resignation,"As far as I am aware, what I struggle with...is unexplainable...and as far as I am concerned, I have always just been Ryu Shimizu."

Kazuma clenched his teeth, wanting to deny it, but his theories remained just that—theories. No matter how hard he tried to find answers, there was no connection between the young woman he had taken in all those years ago and the Sohma family. If any evidence had once existed, it had either been destroyed or never existed in the first place, perhaps a figment of his own imagination all along.

Despite the mounting evidence to the contrary, Kazuma held onto a glimmer of hope—a determination to cling to a truth he believed was there, even if it were to ultimately cause further anguish for Ryu.