Morning came too early.
Ren didn't remember falling asleep.
One moment he had been staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts he couldn't escape—and the next, pale light was slipping through the curtains, quietly announcing a new day he wasn't ready for.
He sat up slowly.
His body protested immediately.
A dull ache spread through his chest, heavier than before, as if something inside him had tightened overnight. His head felt light, his limbs sluggish.
"…Great," he muttered under his breath.
For a moment, he stayed still, breathing carefully.
Counting.
Waiting for the dizziness to pass.
From the kitchen, he could hear faint sounds—movement, the clink of utensils.
Kael was already awake.
Of course he was.
Ren swung his legs off the couch, ignoring the slight tremor in his hands.
"Just get up," he whispered to himself.
"Act normal."
He stood.
The world tilted.
Ren grabbed the edge of the couch quickly, steadying himself.
His breathing hitched, but he forced it back under control.
"…I'm fine."
He repeated it again.
And again.
Until it almost sounded believable.
By the time he walked into the kitchen, his expression had settled into something calm. Neutral.
Controlled.
Kael turned at the sound.
His eyes immediately scanned Ren from head to toe.
Too quickly.
Too carefully.
"…You look like hell," Kael said bluntly.
Ren scoffed lightly. "Good morning to you too."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Kael frowned, setting down the cup he had been holding.
"You didn't sleep, did you?"
Ren didn't answer.
He moved past him instead, reaching for a glass.
"That's not an answer."
"It is," Ren replied, filling the glass with water. "You just don't like it."
Kael crossed his arms.
"…You're not going to work today."
Ren paused.
Just for a second.
Then he took a sip of water like nothing had been said.
"I have a shift."
"No."
Ren exhaled slowly, placing the glass down.
"I need to go."
"You don't need to do anything."
Ren turned slightly, meeting Kael's gaze.
"Yes. I do."
The tension between them settled instantly.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Kael stepped closer.
"Ren, listen to yourself. You can barely stand straight."
"I'm standing."
"Barely."
Ren's jaw tightened.
"I'm fine."
"Stop saying that!" Kael snapped.
The sudden sharpness in his voice made the room feel smaller.
"You're not fine," Kael continued, his tone lower now but no less intense. "You're getting worse. I can see it. You think I don't notice?"
Ren looked away.
"I'm managing."
"No, you're not."
Silence.
Kael ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"You should be resting. You should be going to the hospital. You should—"
"I should what?" Ren cut in quietly.
Kael stopped.
Ren turned back to him.
His expression wasn't angry.
It was tired.
"Sit around and wait?" Ren continued softly. "Count the days? Watch myself fall apart?"
"That's not what I meant—"
"But that's what it is."
Kael didn't respond.
Because he couldn't.
Ren picked up his bag from the chair.
"I'm going to work."
Kael grabbed his arm.
"Ren—"
Ren froze.
"…Let go."
"No."
The word came out firm.
Unyielding.
"You're not going anywhere like this."
Ren's fingers tightened slightly around the strap of his bag.
"I don't have a choice."
"You do."
Ren shook his head.
"No, I don't."
Kael stepped in front of him now, blocking his path completely.
"You're sick," he said, his voice quieter but heavier. "You don't have to prove anything anymore."
Ren laughed.
A soft, hollow sound.
"I'm not proving anything."
"Then what is this?"
Ren hesitated.
For a moment—
Just a moment—
Something cracked.
"I just…" his voice faltered slightly, "…don't want to be a burden."
Kael's expression changed instantly.
"Ren—"
"Not now," Ren interrupted quickly. "Not when it's almost over."
The words hung in the air.
Sharp.
Final.
Kael stared at him.
"…Don't say that."
"It's true."
"No, it's not—"
"It is," Ren said firmly this time.
Silence fell again.
Ren took a slow breath.
"I spent my whole life depending on no one," he continued. "I survived like that. I'm not going to change now."
"You don't need to push yourself....you can just rest Ren" Kael said quietly.
Ren's grip on his bag tightened.
"I know."
That made it worse.
"That's why I can't."
Kael frowned.
"What does that even mean?"
Ren looked at him.
Really looked at him.
"It means I don't want you to watch me become someone who can't even take care of himself."
Kael's chest tightened.
"I don't care about that."
"I do."
The answer came instantly.
"I care," Ren repeated. "I care about how I'm remembered."
Kael's voice dropped.
"…And you think working yourself to death is better?"
Ren smiled faintly.
"At least it's my choice."
That—
That hit harder than anything else.
Kael let go of his arm slowly.
"You're being stubborn."
"I know."
"You're being stupid."
"Probably."
"You're going to regret this."
Ren paused at that.
"…Maybe."
He adjusted his bag on his shoulder.
"But at least it'll be my regret."
Kael didn't stop him this time.
He just stood there.
Watching.
As Ren walked to the door.
"…Ren."
Ren stopped.
But didn't turn around.
"…You don't have to do everything alone."
A quiet moment passed.
Then Ren spoke.
"I know."
And then—
He left.
The door closed softly behind him.
Kael stood there for a long time after that.
"…Idiot."
But his voice wasn't angry.
It was worried.
Outside, the air felt colder than before.
Ren walked slowly at first.
Carefully.
Each step measured.
His body still felt weak.
Heavy.
But he kept going.
Because stopping wasn't an option.
Not for him.
Not now.
The streets were already busy.
People rushing past.
Living their lives.
No one noticed him.
And that was good.
Ren adjusted his pace slightly.
Blending in.
Normal.
Just another person going to work.
Just another day.
But inside—
Every breath felt harder than the last.
Every step felt heavier.
And still—
He didn't stop.
Because stopping meant thinking.
And thinking meant remembering.
Arin.
Ren clenched his jaw slightly.
"…Don't."
He couldn't afford that.
Not now.
Not when he had already made his choice.
The shop came into view.
Same as always.
Nothing had changed.
Ren stepped inside.
"Hey, you're late—"
"I know," Ren replied quickly.
His coworker frowned slightly.
"…You okay? You look pale."
"I'm fine."
The words came automatically now.
Too easily.
Too often.
Ren moved behind the counter, slipping into routine.
Orders.
Payments.
Movements.
Simple.
Manageable.
Something he could control.
Unlike everything else.
Hours passed slowly.
Each minute stretching longer than it should.
By midday, the pain had returned.
Stronger.
Ren leaned against the counter briefly, his breath uneven.
"…Not now."
But his body didn't listen.
A sharp wave of dizziness hit him.
The room blurred.
Voices became distant.
"Hey—are you—"
Ren grabbed the edge of the counter, forcing himself to stay upright.
"I'm fine," he said again.
But this time—
Even he didn't believe it.
Still—
He didn't leave.
Because he couldn't.
Because he wouldn't.
Because if this was how his story was going to end—
Then at least—
He would end it standing.
Even if it broke him.
And somewhere far away—
Arin walked through his own day.
Unaware.
Unaware that the person he still loved—
Was slowly running out of time.