Endless darkness—not the kind that simply surrounds you,but the kind that seeps into your lungs…and refuses to let you breathe.
I don't remember when I started sinking.
Only that I was already too deep.
I try to inhale—but something tightens around my throat,invisible fingers pressing,stealing the air before it can reach me.
I fight it.
I struggle.
I reach upward—
—but the more I move,the more the darkness pulls me down,as if it has already claimed me as its own.
"Souh… I told you… take the gun… or else—"
His voice breaks through—distant, distorted—like an echo trapped underwater.
My hands are steady.
Too steady.
But my heart…my heart trembles like it's trying to escape my chest.
The cold weight rests in my hand—metal pressing into my skin,as if reminding me that this moment is real.
That I am real.
My eyes lift—
—and find him.
That familiar face.
Those eyes—burning, sharp, filled with something that feels too much like anger…or maybe something deeper.
My finger moves.
Slowly.
Uncertainly.
Then—
"Bang."
The sound doesn't just echo.
It shatters something inside me.
And I know—
no matter how much time passes,no matter how far I run—
that sound will follow me.
Because it came from my hand.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Time returns before I do.
The soft rhythm of a clockpulls me back into something gentler—something quieter.
A bed cradles my body.
A blanket rests over me, warm and undeserved.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Like a lie my mind is trying to believe.
Then—
memory crashes in.
Sharp. Sudden.
Unforgiving.
The ache in my body reminds me—I didn't escape.
I just paused.
"Maybe… I passed out…"
The thought drifts through me, fragile, uncertain.
A breeze brushes against my face—soft enough to feel like a whisper.
I can't ignore it.
I can't stay still.
I push the blanket away.
The wooden floor greets my feet with cold honesty,grounding me as I move toward the source of that quiet touch.
A window.
Wide.
Open.
Waiting.
The room is simple—the bed pressed against the northern wall,everything else fading into stillness.
I step closer.
And look up.
The sky stretches endlessly above me—
and the stars…
the stars are brighter than I remember.
Or maybe…
I had simply forgotten how to see them.
They shine with a quiet beauty—something unfamiliar in my colorless world.
Then—
the sound of waves.
Soft. Repetitive.
Alive.
It reaches me from below,like a secret being whispered over and over again.
A ship.
I'm on a ship.
Not a hospital.
Strange.
Wrong.
I breathe in deeply—salt filling my lungs,as if trying to wash away something buried deeper than pain.
Then—
a sound.
The door.
The faint click of a handle turningcuts through the silence.
My ears follow it.
My eyes don't.
They stay on the stars—as if afraid to let go.
"So… you're awake."
His voice.
Low.
Familiar.
And yet—it feels heavier now.
As if silence has made it echo louder than it should.
His gaze is on me—
but his thoughts…they're somewhere far behind us.
I turn.
Slowly.
Toward the doorway.
Darkness hides his face—but it cannot hide what I feel.
That presence.
That quiet, constant concern.
"Kai… it's been a while."
A faint smile touches my lips—fragile, fleeting.
"Yeah… it has."
And just like that—
it disappears.
Light floods the room with a single motion—harsh, sudden, revealing.
And there he is.
Smiling.
Softly.
Looking straight into my eyes.
For a moment—
my heart forgets how to beat.
He's changed.
Or maybe…
I'm the one who no longer recognizes him.
"I brought you something to eat. Are you feeling better?"
His voice carries warmth now—a warmth I don't know what to do with.
He moves closer.
Places the bowl down.
Sits beside me.
Simple actions—yet they feel heavier than they should.
"I didn't take you to the hospital… I was worried.If someone came looking for you…"
He pauses.
"We're heading to a summer island."
Something shifts inside my chest.
A warmth.
Strange.
Unfamiliar.
Not strong enough to hurt—not soft enough to ignore.
I sit down.
The bed sinks slightly beneath me,as if pulling me back into something safe.
My eyes fall to the bowl.
I reach for it.
Its warmth spreads into my hands—
and for a moment…
it feels like it's keeping something colder away.
Carrot soup.
Simple.
Bright.
Too alive for a world like mine.
I stare at it.
Then laugh quietly to myself.
What if it's poisoned?
What if this is how it ends?
I take a spoonful.
…and freeze.
It's good.
Too good.
Dangerously good.
Even if it was poison—I think I'd still finish it.
Now I'm left with a choice—
call for help…
or fall in love with whoever made it.
"If I die… just know it was worth it."
My voice carries a trace of humor—but not enough to hide the truth.
"Who made this? I might propose."
"The ship's maid," he replies.
"Want me to find you a jeweler?"
So that's how it is.
Love—
just another illusion for stories.
"I don't even have money."
I murmur.
His smile widens.
"I can lend you some."
The air feels lighter now.
Almost too light.
As if something heavy is waiting to fall again.
"…Aren't you going to confess?"
The question slips out.
Uninvited.
Unwanted.
But honest.
Too honest.
He doesn't answer immediately.
And when he does—
"Souh… I'm getting married."
Soft.
Calm.
Final.
A smile rests on his lips as he says it.
And inside me—
something tightens.
Something quiet.
Something that doesn't scream…but breaks anyway.
Because maybe—
deep down—
I already knew.
This wasn't a reunion.
It was a goodbye.
ا