Nari froze, eyes shaking, reddened.
— I… I'm sorry… I… I'll be careful now, I—
Her voice cracked like glass.
Her throat burned, tears rising again.
Kai leaned slightly forward, his shadow swallowing hers.
— I don't think you understood.
His tone was clipped, irritated, nearly threatening.
— Go. Home.
She opened her mouth, barely able to breathe.
— I… I can keep going… I'm fine, I—
He hit the bar with his fist — not hard enough to break it, but enough to make the wood tremble.
— Have you looked at yourself?!
He stared at her like a doctor facing a dying patient.
— You can barely stand. You're white as a corpse. How do you expect to work like this?
His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching near his eye — a clear sign he was fighting something… anger, instinct, immense frustration.
Because he saw what she was becoming.
Because he saw what Sion was doing to her.
And because he couldn't do anything.
His voice fell even lower.
— You're going to get your things.
A breath. A threat.
— And I'm calling you a cab.
He locked eyes with her, burning, authoritative.
— And I don't want to see you back here until Monday. Understood?
Nari blinked.
Two tears rolled down her cheeks.
— I'm fired…?
Her voice was nothing but a broken whisper.
— I'm really sorry… really…
Her body began trembling even harder.
Kai frowned, looking almost… offended.
— No.
Each syllable cracked like a whip.
— You're not fired.
He straightened, arms crossed, his gaze pitch-black.
— You're going to rest. Because I don't want a zombie behind my bar. Understood?
Nari lowered her head.
Like a child caught doing something wrong.
Like someone who didn't have the strength to fight anymore.
She nodded slowly.
Shame devoured her.
The whole world crushed her.
And Kai stood beside her…
A powerless witness
An enraged witness
A silent witness
to her downfall.
Once home, Nari had literally collapsed under her blanket.
Her body was nothing but an empty shell.
Her muscles burned.
Her head spun as if the ceiling were tilting.
Her hands shook.
And suddenly—
The sobs burst.
Not tears.
Not whimpers.
Sobs that tore her throat open.
Strangled screams buried in the pillow.
Convulsions of pain, of exhaustion, of loneliness.
She cried until she couldn't breathe anymore.
Until she vomited on the floor, her hands braced on either side, her body shaking with spasms.
Until her own breath cut off and the air grew heavy, unbreathable.
She was alone.
So alone that it physically hurt.
So alone it made her want to rip her skin off just to escape herself.
She fell asleep like that, face wet, sheets damp, hair stuck to her cheeks.
The next morning — a dead body
She woke up like a corpse.
Heavy.
As if someone had screwed lead into her bones.
Every movement was torture.
She was cold and hot at the same time.
Shivers devoured her spine.
Her lips were dry, cracked, whitened.
She tried to get up.
Just to walk.
Just to survive.
Her body refused.
⸻
Someone knocked on the door.
A single, sharp knock.
Nari pushed herself upright as best she could, stumbling toward the entrance, holding herself up by the wall.
But before she could even touch the handle—
BOOM.
A harsh noise.
A violent, metallic thud.
Because Nari had just collapsed against the door.
Her body had shut down completely.
— Nari??
Sion's voice on the other side of the door.
Worried.
Too worried.
— Nari?!? Answer me!!
No answer.
Only the suffocating silence of a body on the floor.
Then a sound.
A frantic breath.
Panic simmering.
— NARI!
His voice broke.
He smashed the door open.
With his bare hands.
He slammed his fist once against the door, pain screaming through his ribs where his father had struck him.
He hit it a second time, a groan ripped from his throat.
The third strike did it.
The door gave way.
A sinister crack.
Splinters flying.
Sion let out a muffled cry, pain shooting up his arms—
but he entered anyway.
⸻
The scene he found froze him to the core.
Nari was on the floor.
Curled up.
Sweating.
Skin as white as the snow outside.
Lips an almost cadaverous white.
Eyelids trembling.
Breath shallow, uneven.
She had a fever—
a burning heat radiating from her face.
Her shirt clung to her back, soaked with cold sweat.
Her hands were ice.
Her body shivered like a wounded animal.
— Nari…
His voice broke entirely.
He fell to his knees beside her despite the pain ripping through his torso.
His hands shook when he touched her.
— Nari… look at me… look at me, damn it…
He cupped her cheek.
Her skin was scorching hot.
— You're gonna kill me… he whispered, voice strangled, eyes filled with pure terror.
He slid an arm under her back, the other under her legs.
She was both burning hot and freezing cold.
So light he thought he was lifting a ghost.
The world narrowed around them.
Only his panicked breathing.
Only her unmoving body.
— Nari stay with me… stay with me…
His voice vibrated.
Broken.
Desperate.
He laid her gently on the bed, as if she were made of porcelain.
His hands were still trembling from having found her on the floor, from the terrifying heat and cold radiating from her body.
He stayed frozen above her.
Just a second.
One single second.
Then he moved—
with feverish precision, almost mechanical, like an automaton thrown into motion.
He went to get a cloth.
Ran it under cold water.
Too cold.
His fist clenched around the fabric as if trying to crush the panic rising in his throat.
He came back to her, sat on the edge of the bed, and placed the cloth on her burning forehead.
The contact made Nari flinch, a small whimper escaping her lips.
Sion froze, his face inches from hers.
— It's okay… I'm here… he murmured, his voice still trembling.
He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, slow, careful.
Her skin was burning, almost painful to the touch.
— It's gonna be okay… I won't leave you…
He changed the cloth.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The precise rhythm of a man who only breathes through her.
Then he went to the kitchen.
He rummaged through cabinets with a silent fury, slamming doors, breathing hard, nervous, frantic.
When he returned, he carried instant soup, some crackers, a glass of water.
He sat beside her, slid an arm behind her back, lifted her gently even though his own ribs screamed with pain.
— You're going to eat, okay? Just a little. Please.
She shook her head weakly, eyes half-closed.
— I'm not hungry… leave me…
— NO.
The word cracked too loud.
He inhaled sharply, forced himself to calm down, pressed his forehead against hers, burning against burning.
— I'm sorry… but you're going to eat. I don't want you passing out again. I don't want… I don't want to lose you.
His voice trembled.
Just a little.
A fracture in marble.
He pressed a spoon to her lips.
She refused.
He insisted.
Softly.
Tenderly.
Stubbornly.
— For me… just this. Please.
She gave in.
She swallowed a spoonful.
Then another.
Then another.
Each time, her shoulders loosened a little more, her breath steadied, her eyes fluttered shut as if every sip returned a piece of her life.
Sion spent the entire day by her side.
He only stood to change the cloth on her forehead.
Or to give her a sip of water.
Or to move a sweaty strand of hair from her face.
He stayed there.
Sitting beside her.
Elbows on his knees.
Eyes fixed on her face as if he were monitoring her breathing second by second.
Sometimes, a shadow passed through his eyes.
A fraction of a second.
A thought.
A vertigo.
"Is this my fault…?"
Unbearable.
Immediately crushed.
Drowned under a violent wave of denial.
He shook his head—
as if chasing away an insect.
— No… no… it's not me… she let herself go… she… she should've eaten… I should've… I should've noticed…
His hand caressed her cheek like a man searching for absolution in the skin of the woman he loves.
He leaned down and kissed her burning forehead.
— I'm here now. I'll never let you fall again… never.
And he stayed beside her until the evening light slipped through the curtains.
Without eating.
Without sleeping.
Without breathing any other way than through her.
She fell asleep in Sion's arms, unaware that the real nightmare hadn't even begun yet.