Location: Meiyu Film Studio, Tokyo – 3 Months After Fitran's Confession

  The sky was overcast that day, and the atmosphere in the script reading room was so silent that the sound of fingers touching paper reverberated like the beating of a heart, creating a tense ambiance that echoed Akane's inner turmoil.

  Akane Kurokawa sat alone in the conference room, holding the film's script titled:

  “One of Four: The Tale of the Woman Unchosen”

  At first, she had rejected the project; it felt too close, too personal, too raw. She recalled the past years when she stood alone, gazing at her reflection in the mirror, questioning who deserved to be part of her life. Am I a winner or merely a spectator in the drama of my own existence?

  But as she read the first page... she knew.

  The main character: AKIRA, a mysterious man from another world, cold and wise, yet filled with scars. He arrived in Tokyo, bringing a sense of emptiness, only to offer love to four girls — each representing a different facet of loss and longing — but ultimately choosing one. The others? They must learn to live after that bittersweet decision.

  The second female character: REINA. A young, brilliant actress who loves AKIRA not out of emptiness, but because she sees herself within the man's pain.

  And Akane knew—Reina was herself, a reflection of her own complexities. In that vibrating moment, her heart thudded with fear that reached deep within. She was the main character in her own poignant story, yet also a poet struggling to find the words to portray the delicate intertwining of loss and hope.

  The film director, Morita Kaede, greeted her in the hallway. His smile conveyed confidence, though doubt cast shadows in the corners of his eyes.

  “We don’t want cheap drama,” he said firmly. “We want... the truth. And only you can embody it.”

  Akane regarded him flatly. At that moment, her mind drifted back to the past, to moments where her decisions were tangled in branches of complicated choices. She felt trapped, as if her soul resided between two worlds.

  “What if I fail?”

  Morita smiled. “Then at least we fail as ourselves.”

  Akane contemplated for a moment, feeling the tremor of vulnerability in Morita’s words. There was a bitter reality in failure, yet she knew that behind it lay a faint glimmer of hope. She thought, perhaps failure was the first step towards true honesty.

  The first week of shooting.

  Reina sat in the café, reading a letter from Akira. The aroma of coffee wafted through the air, enhancing a sense of nostalgia that reminded her of the beautiful moments they once shared.

  Akane read her lines softly:

  “You didn't choose me. But I don’t regret loving you. Because as long as I live... I know that I have loved with all my soul, without pretense.”

  She emphasized each word, as if resurrecting the memories long buried deep within her heart. After the scene, there was a hush among the crew.

  Someone quietly wept in the corner, while the silence enveloped everyone present like a heavy shroud, amplifying the emotional gravity of the scene.

  The sound of that weeping felt like an echo of the pain and loss hidden within Akane. She could sense the emotional weight carried by others, drawing her closer to the character she was portraying.

  In her heart, there was an emptiness that lingered, like a grand painting yet to be filled with color, waiting for a touch that could bring it back to life.

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  Several days later.

  The scene of the confrontation between Reina and Akira was about to be filmed.

  Akane wore a burgundy dress. Her co-star, Riku Hoshino, portrayed Akira — not perfect, but sufficient.

  The director shouted, “Action!”

  Reina walked briskly toward Akira. Her eyes were red, but a smile was held back.

  Within Akane’s heart, an inner struggle unfolded, reminiscent of a battlefield of emotions. She reflected on all the hopes and dreams that had been neglected, and she endeavored to channel those unfulfilled desires into her performance. Each step felt like a journey through the long and winding corridor of her memories.

  “You know... I could have been the strongest among them. I didn't cry when you left. I didn't shout. I didn't chase after you.”

  “But it wasn't because I didn't love you. It was because... I knew a love that pleads would never be remembered.”

  “So I let you go. But today... let me be selfish. Let me ask... why not me?”

  As all the lights seemed to fade, Akane's heart pulsed; each second felt heavy, as if the world was poised to come to a standstill. She reminisced about the moments when small steps were forged together: laughter, smiles, even tears that were beyond measure. All of it formed a complex and beautiful mosaic of love, now separated by the stark distance of reality.

  Akane wasn’t merely putting on an act; she directly questioned the ghost of love that never responds. If that ghost could speak, she would want to know: is there any regret lingering in the air, or perhaps guidance to help her move forward? Maybe true love doesn’t always unite, but instead leaves behind invaluable lessons that withstand the test of time.

  They stood under the awning of an empty store. Water dripped from Akane's hair. The rain added to the dim atmosphere, as if the sky was listening to the whispers of their hearts.

  “You know,” she said softly, “I don't need sympathy.”

  For a moment, the silence between them created space for unspoken sorrow. Akane felt the weight of that phrase—each word felt like a wall separating her from the painful reality.

  “I know,” Fitran replied.

  Akane gazed into his eyes. In that look, something was bound; a thread of hope and fear intertwining.

  “If you regret it, say so. If not... then don’t give me hope.”

  Fitran gently but firmly held her shoulder, a touch that conveyed both reassurance and a complex blend of emotions.

  “I don’t regret it, Akane. Yet, I have never stopped appreciating who you are in my vibrant life.”

  Those words pierced her heart, as if recounting all the sweet and bitter memories they had shared, every laugh and tear. Akane felt a warm flow fill her chest, extinguishing the cold that gnawed at her spirit.

  Akane let out a soft laugh. Her voice trembled.

  “I love you too rationally, don’t I?”

  “No. You love me... with a courage that only someone who knows they can endure possesses.”

  He wanted to continue, to express how deeply trapped he was in such a complex love, but the words got caught in his throat. It felt as though there was a bridge between them that they needed to cross, yet the chasm below was incredibly steep.

  Weeks later.

  The film "One Out of Four" was finally released and swiftly became a box office hit, receiving an overwhelmingly positive response from audiences, marking a significant moment in Akane's career.

  In interviews, Akane said:

  “This film isn’t merely about who wins, but rather how we learn to accept that love... sometimes just stops by to revive something we thought had long been dead,” she expressed sincerely, her words resonating with those who had loved and lost.

  As if realizing the invisible burden she had been carrying, Akane found peace in her words. Love, no matter how heavy, would ultimately teach her about letting go.

  And at the end of the film, Reina did not die.

  Nor did she move on to another man.

  She stood on stage, reading her final letter:

  “I was not chosen. But I will continue to live colorfully. Because I am not just a rejected love... I am a story that deserves to be told.”

  On premiere night, Fitran stood far back in the auditorium.

  Ruby was beside him, holding his hand.

  As Reina gazed into the camera and said, “I will be okay,”

  …Ruby shed tears.

  And Fitran could only look down.

  In his heart, a million longings were hidden, as if each heartbeat represented an unspoken story. He recalled moments filled with laughter and hope, when Reina's smile had been like a guiding star shining in the dark night. What he felt was a complex blend of sorrow and acceptance, a valuable lesson about finding strength in loss, one that would stay with him forever.

  Because love does not always end with warm embraces and unexpected happiness.

  Sometimes… love only leaves the strength to walk alone.

  With each tear Ruby shed, Fitran felt a new sense of strength slowly wrapping around his heart. “We will always have those memories,” he whispered to Ruby, trying to offer sincere comfort. He knew that even though Reina was no longer by their side, the memories and love for her would forever live on in their hearts.