It's been nearly a month since Kael was hospitalized. Today, the doctor told me that his condition is almost fully recovered. Hearing that felt like the heavy, dark clouds that had been pressing on my chest were finally starting to part—letting in light. Faint, maybe, but enough to let me breathe again.
I sat on the couch near the window, sketching a vast meadow from my imagination—a peaceful place I've always dreamed of showing Kael one day. A boundless blue sky stretched above soft green fields swaying in the afternoon breeze. With every stroke of color, I poured out warmth, hope, and something I couldn't quite express in words.
From his bed, Kael sat upright, silently watching me. His gaze slowly followed the movements of my pencil and the spread of colors on the sketchpad in my lap. I noticed—and smiled. That look… it held a quiet curiosity.
I stood and walked over to the small chair beside his bed, gently offering him the drawing.
"I drew a meadow," I said, cheerful. "Pretty, right?"
Kael stared at it without a word.
"Hey, say something. If you're this quiet, I'll just assume you're amazed," I teased, raising an eyebrow to lighten the mood.
He finally spoke, his voice flat and unmistakably his. "It's okay. You still need practice."
"What?" I made a face, pretending to pout. "Is that supposed to be a compliment or a roast? I hope you meant to cheer me up."
He didn't laugh, but his eyes lingered longer on the picture than before.
"You prefer drawing landscapes over people, huh?" he asked softly, as if recalling another sketch I'd secretly left on the desk before—a drawing of the two of us smiling, which he had surprisingly kept.
I nodded. "Yeah. I do like landscapes. But one day… I want to be able to draw you too—perfectly."
Kael didn't reply. But this time… he didn't look away either.
And that was enough for me.
Time passed without us noticing. The orange glow of dusk faded slowly behind the glass. I stood and said my goodbyes.
As Raeya walked out, Kael only stared at the door that had just closed.
There was something strange in his chest. Like… a tiny hollow space had suddenly formed out of nowhere.
Loneliness?
Impossible, he told himself. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the unfamiliar feeling.
<————«
Suddenly, the rain came crashing down, as if the sky could no longer bear its burdens. I hadn't brought an umbrella. Lightning cracked across the heavens, shaking the night and making me jump, trembling at the sudden sound and flash.
I took shelter at an old bus stop by the side of the road, but the wind stabbed through from every direction like icy knives. My thin jacket offered little protection.
"Ahh… what now…" I muttered, hugging myself. "Aunt Lily's not home…"
The sky grew darker. The streets felt unfamiliar in the dim, wet night. Soaked and freezing to the bone, I finally gave in to the storm. I ran into a nearly full bus, along with other drenched and exhausted passengers, all of us carrying the same kind of tiredness.
By the time I got back to the apartment, my whole body was shaking violently, as if ice had seeped deep into my pores.
I rushed into a hot shower and did what I could to warm up. After a light meal, I started sneezing. Then coughing. My head felt heavy, my eyes burning. My chest ached with every breath.
Oh no… I thought. I've really caught the flu.
I curled up on my bed, wrapping myself tightly in a thick blanket. But the shivering wouldn't stop. My fingers were freezing, and my head throbbed like a drum being beaten over and over again.
"It's okay, Raeya…" I whispered to myself. "You're strong. This is just a little test."
I hugged my knees, murmuring a quiet chant—a prayer without a name, just a simple hope to keep my heart from breaking.
The night dragged on. Rain kept falling. Thunder cracked again, as if trying to rip apart the silence cloaking the city.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to sleep. But my body was restless, tossed about by waves of fever. The whole world felt distant… quiet… and cold.
As if… I was the last person awake on a planet that had forgotten how to love.
.・✫・゜・..
Morning came.
But I barely noticed.
The world around me looked blurry, as if wrapped in a heavy, damp curtain. Sounds from outside reached me like echoes underwater.
I tried to sit up, but my body felt like stone. Even lifting my head was a struggle. My breath came in shallow gasps. Cold sweat drenched my temples, dripping down like the last grains of time.
I need to get to the clinic… I thought.
But I couldn't even take a step.
My head spun, chest tight, and the shivering only worsened. I thought about asking a neighbor for help, but even sitting up felt like climbing a mountain in a storm.
With what little strength I had, I crawled toward the door. Slowly. Like a child learning to walk for the first time.
My hair was a tangled mess. My fingers trembled as they touched the cold floor. Every movement made the world sway.
With the last of my strength, I turned the key. The door opened just a crack—just enough to let in a sliver of morning light. I leaned against the frame, clutching the faint hope I had left.
Then everything turned white.
"Raeya?! Raeya!!"
A familiar voice pierced through the haze of my consciousness. Faint, but filled with panic and fear.
It was Kaelion—the boy from Unit 202. He had just stepped out of his apartment when he saw me collapsed in front of mine.
"MOM!! Raeya's passed out! Raeya's passed out!!"
I didn't know when my body fell into his arms. I only felt cold… and so very tired.
"Mom! Hurry! Please, help!" he cried out, his voice echoing desperately through the apartment hallway.
Doors opened.
Faces appeared, drawn by the unusual commotion.
"Oh God… she's burning up!" a woman's voice cried out beside me—surely Kaelion's mother. She crouched next to me, her hands warm but shaking.
"Call an ambulance, now!"
"Raeya's sick! She's burning up!" another voice chimed in.
In the middle of the chaos, the world drifted away. The sounds came from what felt like a long, long tunnel. Further away… fading…
Then silence, like a gentle surrender.
And in the cold, a comforting darkness.