🎭手違いから始まる恋の序曲 - Ch8 - The Unspoken Love Was Heard

💜💗💜💗💜 Story 💗💜💗💜💗 Within this box, where only the two of them remained, any attempt at denial would have sounded far too fragile. Luka did not answer immediately. She remained seated beneath the gentle glow of the wall lamps, the programme closed in her hands. The Queen’s final words seemed still to linger upon her lips. “The tower’s light is burning still for you,If only you would turn and come once more.” Gakupo stood several steps away, watching her quietly. He did not urge her. Nor did he ask again whether the navigator might accept her song as an answer. The deep crimson curtains shut away the stage, the corridor, and the entire opera house beyond. There was no audience awaiting the conclusion and no orchestra to decide the next note for them. This time, however the melody continued, the choice belonged to them alone. Luka lowered her eyes. She could have said that they were merely the words of the original opera. She could have reminded him that when the Queen sang that aria, the navigator had already departed; that everything they had done moments ago was nothing more than an attempt to complete a passage removed from the new production. But she no longer wished to explain. At least, not before the curtains were opened again. Luka gently placed the programme upon the chair. The paper made only the faintest sound as it touched the velvet upholstery. Gakupo’s gaze followed her movement. Supporting herself lightly against the chair, she rose. She did not walk towards the entrance of the box, nor did she turn to open the curtains facing the stage. She remained where she was and looked at Gakupo once more. Then she softly repeated the final line of the melody she had sung before. “If only you would turn and come once more.” This time, she was no longer seated at a distance. As she sang the first note, she took one step towards him. The hem of her dress brushed softly across the carpet, leaving scarcely any sound of footsteps. Gakupo did not move. He merely watched as she approached him, one step at a time. Luka’s voice was gentler than before. It held none of the tragic grandeur of the Queen facing her drowned kingdom in the final act, nor did she attempt to imitate the splendid, distant style of the singer upon the stage. This was not a plea sent across an empty sea. The navigator stood directly before her. There was no need for her voice to travel far. “If the ocean wind has borne away an unsent letter,Then let it follow the homeward tide.” Those words did not belong to the original opera. Perhaps they were merely phrases that had come naturally to her in that moment, carried upon the existing melody. Luka herself did not stop to consider them. She simply continued forward. The distance that had separated them slowly diminished with every line she sang. “If the traveller is still willing to look back,The tower’s light shall never fade.” By the time she reached those words, she was standing before Gakupo. Close enough to see the candlelight reflected in his eyes, and to notice the brief pause in his otherwise steady breathing as she approached. Gakupo did not seem to have expected her to answer in this way. He had only been waiting for her to admit whether the song she had sung was truly meant for him. Luka did not admit it in words. Instead, she had risen from her seat and followed the Queen’s melody, step by step, until she stood beside him. The distance between them had become too small to be explained by characters or the stage. Luka’s song faltered slightly. She did not lower her head. Nor did she turn hurriedly towards the programme as she had before, attempting to conceal her embarrassment. She simply looked at him and sang the final line. “If you have followed the light and returned—” The melody stopped unfinished. Just as the navigator’s line had ended before: “But if the ocean wind once carried me a sigh—” Luka did not sing the rest. Slowly, she raised her hand. At first, it seemed no more than a gesture accompanying the melody. Like the Queen upon the stage, standing before the tower and reaching towards a ship upon the distant horizon, separated from it by a distance she could never cross. But there was no sea here. And Gakupo had not left. Her hand reached naturally towards him and came to rest in the space between them. Her palm was turned slightly upwards, her fingers curling faintly with nervousness. Luka did not ask him anything. She did not say, Please stay. Nor did she say, Take my hand. She simply held it before him, as though offering him the unfinished song. Gakupo lowered his gaze towards her outstretched hand. He did not touch it immediately. For an instant, the emotions that passed through his eyes scarcely resembled his usual composure. There was surprise, and a joy he could not entirely conceal. More than either, however, there was a careful tenderness, as though he feared that even the slightest movement might startle her. Luka’s hand remained suspended between them. Her cheeks were already flushed, and the song had long since ended. But she did not withdraw it. Gakupo raised his eyes to hers again. Then, in a low voice, he sang the navigator’s reply. “If the tower’s light still burns for me,The wandering ship shall lose its way no more.” His voice was deep and gentle. It was not loud, yet every trace of silence in the box seemed to answer him. As he sang the first line, he raised his hand as well. He did not immediately take hers. He only allowed his fingertips to brush lightly against her fingers. Like a ship that had finally returned to harbour but still dared not believe that the light had truly been waiting for it. Luka did not pull away. Instead, her fingers moved slightly forward and touched his. Gakupo continued singing. “I have turned my lonely sail towards home,And no longer ask where the wind may lead.” His palm slowly settled against hers. The movement was exceedingly gentle. He neither forced her closer nor grasped at her with impatience. He merely followed the direction of the hand she had offered and received it tenderly. Luka’s breath trembled. Only then did she fully realise what she had done. She had not merely answered him with the Queen’s song. Nor had she simply risen from her chair and moved a little closer. She had reached for Gakupo of her own accord. And within the melody, he had taken her hand. Gakupo’s fingers slowly closed around hers. Her hand was completely enclosed within his palm. Luka’s fingertips were slightly cool, while his hand was warm enough that she could not ignore it. As their hands joined, Gakupo sang the final lines. “So long as that light is willing to wait,I shall follow its glowAnd return to your side.” When the last note faded, his gaze remained upon Luka’s face. He did not look towards an imaginary sea. Nor towards a tower that did not exist. The navigator in this song already knew to whose side he wished to return. Silence settled over the box once more. Luka did not withdraw her hand. She lowered her gaze towards their joined hands, the colour in her cheeks deepening. “Those are not the original lyrics,” she said softly. “Neither were the words you sang,” Gakupo replied. “You changed the Queen’s song first.” “I merely thought the original ending was incomplete.” “So the navigator may return?” “That depends upon whether he has truly found the way.” “And if he has?” Luka raised her eyes. Gakupo stood very close to her. He continued holding her hand, but made no attempt to move closer. He merely waited for whatever answer she was willing to give. Luka’s fingers shifted faintly within his palm. Gakupo immediately loosened his hold. Believing that she wished to withdraw her hand, he made no attempt to keep her there. But Luka did not move away. She only adjusted her hand slightly, allowing her palm to rest more completely against his. Then her fingers slowly curved, returning his grasp. Gakupo’s expression changed with quiet surprise. Luka turned her gaze away from him. “Since he has already reached the foot of the tower,” she said softly, “it would be rather discourteous to leave now.” They were still words that the Queen might have spoken. Proper and restrained, carrying even a trace of pride that refused to admit openly that she wished him to remain. But Gakupo understood. “Then may I stay?” Luka did not answer him directly. She simply continued holding his hand. “You said that you would come to collect me before the next opera.” “Yes.” “You must not be late.” “I shall arrive early.” “And you must not disappear to buy sweets before letting me know that you are there.” “I shall make certain that you see me first.” “And once you have arrived, you must not remain standing somewhere far away.” Gakupo looked at her. “Where should I stand?” Luka’s cheeks grew warmer. She lowered her eyes towards their hands, still joined between them. “Close enough for me to know that you have come.” A tender smile appeared upon Gakupo’s lips. “I will make certain that you know.” “Mr Kamui.” “Yes?” “You are not permitted to smile.” “I fear that may be rather difficult.” Luka looked up and glared at him. Yet there was no true anger in her gaze, and the corners of her lips had already begun to rise. Gakupo continued holding her hand gently. He did not tighten his grasp merely because she had answered him, nor did he tease her for her embarrassment. He simply received the hand she had offered and held it quietly within his own. After a while, Luka asked in a low voice, “How long are we supposed to continue holding hands?” “Until you wish to let go.” “You are making me decide again?” “You were the one who reached for me first.” Luka was immediately left without an answer. She wished to deny it, yet could hardly deny the fact that her hand still rested in his palm. At last, she merely tightened her fingers slightly. “Then a little longer.” Gakupo’s gaze softened further. “Very well.” The curtains remained tightly closed. No one saw Luka rise from her seat while singing the Queen’s song and walk towards Gakupo one step at a time. Nor did anyone hear Gakupo answer her with the navigator’s melody and take her outstretched hand before the final note faded. They still had not spoken of love. But Luka was no longer merely leaving a light burning for the returning ship. She had walked towards him herself. And Gakupo, following the path of her song, had finally taken hold of the feelings she had never spoken aloud.