🥀Chapter 7 — Last Song

Since the first section of Chapter 7 has been flagged to prevent it from being left unreviewed, the beginning of the story will be repeated https://pixai.art/artwork/1992047872294576271 🥀Chapter 7 — Last Song - Original song: Megurine Luka https://youtu.be/64Q1O1a6V5Q?si=-za92CTGhmNaxAME - Cover: Kamui Gakupo & Megurine Luka https://youtu.be/8tJlgI-Wxj4?si=VlWlY9xcQvBInLBL 💜💗💜💗💜 Story 💗💜💗💜💗 On graduation day, the sky was clear. The cherry blossoms had finally bloomed. Students were everywhere, taking photos and laughing. Among the crowd, Luka suddenly noticed Gakupo standing not far away. Their eyes met. Gakupo gave a small nod. Luka smiled back. A quiet, gentle smile. That day, neither of them said anything more. — After graduation, spring passed quickly. The day Luka would leave overseas drew closer. — One evening, Luka sent him a message. “Gakupo. Are you free today?” A moment later, he replied. “What’s up?” Luka paused, then typed: “Can you come to my place? I’m packing. There are some things I’m not sure whether to bring.” After a moment, Gakupo replied. “Okay.” — That night, Gakupo arrived at Luka’s house. A large suitcase sat open on the living room floor. Clothes, books, sheet music, and old notebooks were scattered around. Luka gave an awkward smile. “Sorry… It’s kind of messy.” “It’s fine,” Gakupo said. — After a while, Luka picked up an old CD and placed it into the player. A familiar melody filled the room. It was the first song they had recorded together. Their voices on the recording sounded younger. More innocent. Luka said softly, “Do you want to sing it again?” Gakupo looked surprised. “Now?” Luka smiled faintly. “Just once. As the last time.” — There were no microphones. No instruments. They simply sat on the floor and sang quietly together. Their voices were soft. Gentle. Like they were speaking only to each other. Like they were saying goodbye to a piece of time. — The night grew deeper. Suddenly Luka spoke. “Gakupo.” He looked up. “…Could you go home tomorrow morning instead?” Gakupo paused. “I don't really want to be alone tonight.” After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” Luka seemed to relax a little. Then she said softly, “…One last time.” “Can you hold me?” Gakupo walked toward her. Luka wrapped her arms around him. The hug was tight. Gakupo held her too. After a moment, he lowered his head and kissed her. It was a slow kiss. As if trying to remember. That night, they said nothing more. They simply stayed close, holding each other, as if memorizing each other's warmth. — Morning light slowly slipped into the room. Luka woke first. She quietly watched Gakupo sleeping beside her. After a while, she whispered, “Gakupo.” He slowly opened his eyes. They looked at each other. Neither spoke. But both of them knew. It was time. — Gakupo put on his shirt. “Wait,” Luka said softly. She stepped closer and began fastening the buttons of his shirt. Her movements were slow. Careful. When the final button was done, her hand lingered for a moment. Then she lowered it. Gakupo watched her. After a while, he picked up a brush from the table. “Come here.” Luka blinked, but sat down in front of him. Gakupo gently brushed her hair. Slowly. As if arranging a memory. The room was silent, filled only with the soft sound of the brush through her hair. Finally, he said quietly, “All done.” — They walked to the door. Suddenly Luka hugged him again. Gakupo wrapped his arms around her. After a moment, he kissed her. Lightly. Quietly. Like the morning. “Take care,” Gakupo said. Luka nodded. Gakupo turned and walked out. The door closed slowly. His footsteps faded away. — Luka stood there for a long time. Then she slowly walked back to the living room. The suitcase was still on the floor. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Luka picked up the guitar resting in the corner. She sat on the floor and began to play the song. The melody flowed softly. When she reached the chorus, her hand suddenly stopped. A tear fell onto the wood of the guitar. Luka held the instrument tightly as she cried. That song once belonged to two people. But now only one voice remained. Outside, the sky grew brighter. And in that small room, the only thing left was a song that would never be finished.