Due to her recurrent fever and vivid dreams that come along with it, Celine decided to go home from the hospital. Peter tried to convince her to stay, but she remained with her first decision. Their head nurse also advised her to file for an indefinite leave so that she could fully rest and recover her mental and physical wellbeing. Celine thought these would all subside when she rests her body fully; but the universe had plans of its own.

Celine woke up with a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest. Another dream, another life. This time, she was Corazon, running through the war-torn streets, the screams of her loved ones echoing in her ears.

She sat up in bed, her breath hitching in her throat. The memories, the emotions, they're too much. She felt a wave of nausea, a sense of vertigo.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please, just stop."

But the memories keep coming, flooding her mind, overwhelming her senses. She saw the faces of those people in her past lives - Eunwoo, Takahiro, Akihiro. All with the same faces but with different clothing that coincides with the period that they existed in. She felt the weight of their love, the pain of their absence.

Celine curled up on the bed, tears streaming down her face. She felt lost, confused, and utterly alone. The weight of her past lives pressed down on her, leaving her gasping for air.

"I can't do this," she sobs, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I can't keep living like this."

The emotional and mental exhaustion is taking its toll. She feels drained, empty, as if a part of her soul has been ripped away.

—

Sleep offered no respite for Celine even after the breakthrough of her fever. The encounter with Alexander, the enigmatic sketches, and the cryptic words of Madame Zora had ignited a fire of curiosity within her. That night, as she drifted into slumber, another vivid dream unfolded.

She found herself in a serene Japanese garden, cherry blossoms dancing in the gentle breeze. A sense of peace and tranquility enveloped her, yet a hint of melancholy lingered in the air. She heard the voices of the doctor and a woman who appeared to be in her mid-40s.

"Is there a cure for my daughter's disease?" She asked.

The doctor appeared sullen, "Her heart is too large. Unfortunately, there is no cure in this country yet for her." Hearing and seeing the woman sobbed, Celine couldn't help but feel lonely as well. She walked towards her and held her hand.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," she told her, in tears. "I failed to raise you as a healthy child, Emiko." Celine, now realizing that she was now remembering one of her past lives, held the woman whom she recognized as her mother.

"Having you and father as my parents are more than enough for me. I couldn't possibly ask for more." She replied, while smiling through her tears.

—

The bustling marketplace of Edo was alive with activity. Merchants hawked their wares, artisans displayed their crafts, and people from all walks of life jostled amidst the vibrant stalls. Emiko, accompanied by her chaperone, navigated the crowded streets, her heart filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

As they passed a stall selling exquisite silk fabrics, Emiko's eyes fell upon a young man engrossed in conversation with the merchant. He was tall and handsome, with kind eyes and a gentle smile that instantly captivated her. A strange sensation washed over her, a feeling of recognition that she couldn't explain.

"Who is that?" Emiko whispered to her chaperone, her gaze still fixed on the young man.

"That is Takahiro-sama, the son of a prominent samurai family," her chaperone replied, a hint of admiration in her voice. "He is known for his intelligence, his skill with the sword, and his compassionate heart."

Emiko's heart fluttered. A warmth spread through her chest, and she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. As if sensing her gaze, Takahiro turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. A spark of recognition ignited in his eyes, and a gentle smile touched his lips.

At that moment, time seemed to stand still. The bustling marketplace, the chatter of the crowd, all faded into the background. Emiko and Takahiro gazed at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. It was a connection that transcended words, a connection that whispered of a love that had been waiting to be rekindled.

Emiko's chaperone, noticing the exchange, discreetly cleared her throat. Emiko, startled, averted her gaze, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She knew that it was improper for a young woman of her station to stare so openly at a man, but she couldn't help herself.

As they continued their journey through the marketplace, Emiko's thoughts remained consumed by Takahiro. She couldn't shake the feeling that their meeting was more than just a chance encounter, that fate had brought them together for a reason.

Little did she know that Takahiro, too, was deeply affected by their meeting. Actually, he was very happy that he saw her again. He couldn't explain the strange pull he felt towards Emiko the first time he saw her at a coffee shop, the sense of familiarity that lingered in his heart. He knew that he had to see her again, to unravel the mystery of their connection; and it seemed like fate heard his heart's wish because the woman that he felt very drawn to the first time he saw her appeared right in his line of vision once again.

—

The air hung heavy with the scent of incense and anticipation as the representatives of the Saito and Matsumoto families gathered in a formal tea room. The delicate aroma of matcha filled the air, a subtle backdrop to the unspoken expectations that permeated the room.

Takahiro's father, a stern and imposing figure, sat at the head of the table, his gaze fixed on his counterpart, the head of the Matsumoto clan. Emiko's father, a man of quiet dignity, returned the gaze with a polite but reserved expression.

"It is an honor to meet with you, Saito-sama," Emiko's father began, his voice smooth and measured. "We are grateful for your consideration of our daughter, Emiko, as a potential bride for your son, Takahiro."

As the formalities continued, the shoji screen slid open, revealing Emiko. Dressed in a simple yet elegant kimono, she moved with a grace that captivated all eyes in the room, especially Takahiro's. Their gazes locked, and an unspoken connection sparked between them. A blush crept onto Emiko's cheeks as she felt the intensity of Takahiro's stare.

Takahiro, too, was taken aback. Emiko's beauty and gentle demeanor were far beyond anything he had imagined. His heart, which he thought was resigned to duty, fluttered unexpectedly.

Emiko's father, noticing the exchange, cleared his throat gently. "May I present my daughter, Emiko," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Emiko bowed gracefully, her eyes briefly meeting Takahiro's once more before respectfully lowering her gaze. Takahiro, though outwardly composed, felt a warmth spread through him.

The conversation resumed, but the atmosphere had shifted subtly. The initial tension had given way to a sense of curiosity and intrigue. Takahiro found himself drawn to Emiko's quiet intelligence and gentle spirit. Emiko, in turn, was captivated by Takahiro's strong presence and the kindness she sensed in his eyes.

As the meeting progressed, their stolen glances became more frequent, each exchange leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. Though they spoke few words, a silent understanding blossomed between them, a spark of connection that defied the arranged nature of their meeting.

By the time the families concluded their discussions, both Takahiro and Emiko felt a sense of anticipation, a hopeful flutter in their hearts. The prospect of their union, once a duty-bound obligation, now held a glimmer of possibility, a chance for love to bloom in the most unexpected of circumstances.

—

Emiko's laughter filled the air as she chased butterflies through the sun-dappled meadow. Her heart, though fragile, soared with the joy of the moment. But as she stopped to catch her breath, a sharp pain pierced her chest, a cruel reminder of her mortality.

Takahiro, who had been watching her with a loving gaze, rushed to her side. "Emiko, are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Emiko clutched her chest, her face pale. "It's just a little pain," she said, trying to downplay her discomfort. "It comes and goes."

Takahiro's brow furrowed. He knew about Emiko's heart condition, the shadow that loomed over their happiness. "Perhaps you should rest," he suggested gently.

Emiko shook her head, a stubborn glint in her eyes. "I don't want to waste a single precious moment," she insisted. "Life is too short to be spent in bed."

Takahiro couldn't help but admire her spirit, her unwavering determination to live life to the fullest. He took her hand, his heart aching with the knowledge that their time together might be limited.

"Then let's make the most of it," he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Let's create memories that will last a lifetime."

And so, they continued their journey through the meadow, hand in hand. Emiko's laughter mingled with the birdsong, her spirit shining brightly despite the darkness that threatened to engulf her. Takahiro cherished every moment, every smile, every shared glance, knowing that their love was a precious gift, a fleeting flame that burned brightly against the backdrop of an uncertain future.

—

The dream shifted, and she was standing beside him at an altar, surrounded by loved ones. Joy and anticipation filled the air, but a shadow of sadness lingered in her heart.

Then, darkness descended. A sharp pain pierced her chest, and she collapsed, her breath growing shallow. She saw Takahiro's face, etched with anguish and despair, as he cradled her in his arms.

"Emiko," he cried, his voice filled with desperation. "Don't leave me."

--

Celine awoke with a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest. The dream felt so real once again that she could still feel the warmth of Takahiro's hand in hers, the weight of his sorrow upon her.

As the morning light filtered through her window, Celine sat up in bed, her mind reeling. The dream, so different from her previous one, yet equally powerful, left her with a sense of profound loss and a longing for a love she couldn't quite grasp.

Celine knew that she could no longer deny the truth. She had to embrace the possibility of reincarnation, of a love that spanned centuries and continents. She had to go back to Alexander, to uncover the mysteries of their shared past, and to see if their love could truly transcend time.

Just then, the doorbell of her apartment rang. She got up and went to see who it was. She slightly opened the door, revealing Alexander with a worried look in his eyes.

"Alexander?!" She said to her surprise.