The bleeding had stopped.
That, more than anything else, made Lena's hands tremble.
She knew it wasn't a good sign.
Rin lay unnaturally still beneath her, his pupils dilated and unfocused, reflecting nothing. His skin, once warm, was rapidly cooling beneath her palms. When she reached out and touched his arm again, his muscles were still soft—but not for long. She could feel it happening, minute by minute, his body betraying the truth she didn't want to accept.
Rigor mortis.
The realization slammed into her chest like a blunt weapon.
No.
No, no, no.
"This… this can't be real," Lena whispered, her voice breaking before she could stop it.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his clothes, clutching as if holding on tighter could force life back into him.
"Rin," she said again, more desperately this time. "You're joking, right?"
Her throat tightened.
"You'll wake up. You always do."
Silence answered her.
She already knew.
