The sun dipped below the city skyline, casting everything in a soft orange glow. From the rooftop of the hospital, Ren watched the shadows stretch across the horizon. It was strange—how a place so filled with pain could offer a moment of peace. But today had been quiet. Too quiet.
He gripped the railing, his knuckles whitening. "I feel it coming," he whispered. "Something's going to change."
Behind him, the rooftop door creaked open.
"Ren."
He turned. Airi stood there, wind tugging at her hair, her eyes soft but unreadable.
She walked forward slowly, closing the distance between them without a word. When she finally stopped, it was right beside him.
"You've been up here for hours."
"I needed space."
"I figured," she said. "That's why I waited."
Ren sighed, looking away. "I keep thinking… what if everything we've built just… falls apart again?"
Airi leaned against the railing, close enough that their shoulders brushed. "Then we build again. Like we always do."
He let out a quiet laugh, more bitter than amused. "Easy for you to say. You weren't the one who almost gave up."
Her gaze turned sharp. "And you weren't the one who got locked out of your own life."
He glanced at her, guilt slicing through him. "That's not fair—"
"No. It's not. But neither is what you're doing now. Pushing me away when we've come so far."
Ren opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. Instead, he looked at her. Really looked. Her eyes were tired, but burning with something unbreakable.
"I'm scared, Airi."
"So am I," she whispered. "But that doesn't mean we stop."
They stood there in silence, the weight of everything pressing down like storm clouds gathering above them.
After a moment, she reached into her pocket and pulled something out—a small, crumpled note.
"I found this. In your drawer. You wrote it a few weeks ago."
Ren's eyes widened. "You weren't supposed to read that."
"I know." She unfolded the paper and read aloud, her voice trembling slightly. "'Maybe it would be better for her if I disappeared completely. Maybe love isn't enough to save me.'"
Ren turned away, shame heating his face.
"You idiot," Airi said, voice cracking. "You think leaving would save me? It would destroy me."
He stayed quiet, unable to meet her eyes.
"I don't want perfection, Ren. I don't want someone who's always strong. I just want you. All of you. Even the broken parts."
He finally looked at her. "I'm trying. I really am."
"I know." She reached out, wrapping her fingers around his. "That's why I'm still here."
A gust of wind blew through, rustling the paper in her hand. The city lights began to flicker on below them, one by one.
Ren squeezed her hand.
And for the first time in days, he didn't feel alone.