Darkness.
Then—light.
I don't move at first. My body feels… off. Heavy, as if something is pressing down on me. There's a dull ache behind my eyes, pulsing in time with the faint beeping in the distance.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I inhale slowly. The air smells sterile and artificial. A hospital?
I force my eyes open. The ceiling above me is blindingly white. I blink, my vision adjusting sluggishly. My body doesn't respond the way it should.
My limbs feel weak. Stiff.
Something is wrong.
I shift my fingers slightly, feeling the thin fabric beneath me. A hospital sheet. My gaze flickers to the side. Machines. Wires. An IV drip was attached to my arm.
I exhale slowly. Stay calm. Analyze.
There's no immediate danger. The door is closed. No signs of chaos.
But… something isn't right.
I try to remember.
I grasp for the last thing I recall—
…
…What was I doing before this?
A sharp unease creeps up my spine.
There's a gap. A hole in my memory where something should be.
My fingers tighten against the sheets. I don't like this. I don't like not knowing.
I take another breath, steadying myself. My body feels sluggish, but I can't just lie here. I attempt to sit up, only for discomfort to shoot through my muscles.
Tch.
How long have I been here?
I press my lips into a thin line. I need answers. If no one is going to explain, I'll figure it out myself.
Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I try speaking, my voice quieter than I expect—hoarse, as if unused for too long.
"…What is going on?"
Silence.
I narrow my eyes.
No response. No immediate explanation.
Fine. If no one will answer, I'll find out myself.
I shift my legs slightly, testing their strength. They feel weak. Annoyingly weak.
The realization irritates me.
I hate feeling weak.
And right now, that's all I can perceive.
A voice cuts through the silence.
"You're awake."
I turn my head, slowly, almost hesitantly. My body still feels heavy, and my mind is sluggish, but the voice—it's familiar.
And then I see him.
"N-Nii-san…?" My voice comes out quieter than I intended, uncertain. My throat is dry, making the words rasp slightly.
He's standing by the bedside, staring at me with an unreadable expression. But something is wrong.
He looks—tired. No, exhausted. His eyes are framed by deep shadows, heavy bags settled underneath them as if he hasn't slept in days. His normally sharp, composed posture is weighed down by something invisible.
He looks thinner too, his face slightly more gaunt than I remember.
N-no way.
My chest tightens with unease.
Why does he look like that?
I swallow, my mind struggling to catch up.
"W-What… What are you doing here?" I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "Shouldn't you be—" I pause, frowning. My thoughts feel jumbled, like puzzle pieces that don't quite fit.
He should be… out. Away.
Not here.
Not standing in front of me like this.
Something is wrong.
"...Where are we?" I finally ask, my fingers gripping the thin hospital blanket. The sterile scent. The unnatural weight in my limbs. It all feels so… surreal.
His face twists, something like grief flashing across his expression before he speaks.
"We're in the hospital," his voice is quiet and steady in a way that almost sounds forced. "Advanced Nurturing High School's medical facility."
I freeze.
The words don't make sense.
I stare at him, my mind lagging behind like a broken program trying to process input that doesn't belong.
"…What?"
"We're at... school campus," he repeats.
"You—" His jaw tenses slightly. "You've been here for a while."
No. That's not right.
I just—
I just went to sleep.
I was supposed to start school tomorrow.
"...That's not possible." The words slip out before I can stop them, my voice unsteady. "I—I was just at home. I was—"
My throat tightens.
My memories are… wrong. Scattered. Like I'm grasping at smoke.
I can feel my heartbeat picking up, an uncomfortable pressure forming in my chest.
No. No, this doesn't make sense.
My hands curl into fists against the blanket.
I look at Nii-san again, trying to find some sort of answer in his exhausted face, but all I see is that same expression—something too heavy, too pained.
This isn't right.
This can't be right.
"You've been a student here for a month."
Nii-san's voice is steady, but there's a weight to his words that makes my stomach tighten.
I stare at him. The words don't sink in. They don't make sense.
A month?
No. That can't be right.
I just—
I just went to sleep. I was supposed to start school soon.
But Nii-san isn't the type to joke about something like this.
I try to grasp at my memories, anything that could prove him wrong, but the more I reach, the more I come up empty.
The panic rises before I can stop it.
"W-What...?" My voice is unsteady. "No, that's— that's not possible. I don't remember any of that."
His expression doesn't change. "Because you suffered an injury."
I-Injury?
I lift a shaky hand to my head. The dull ache I'd been ignoring suddenly becomes impossible to ignore.
"What... happened to me?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Nii-san closes his eyes for a brief moment. Then, when he opens them again, something in them is darker.
"...It was my fault."
I blink.
For a moment, I think I misheard him.
"What?" I shake my head. "No, that doesn't—"
"It was my fault," he repeats, this time firmer.
I swallow hard, searching his face for any sign that he's lying, that this is some kind of mistake. But his expression remains the same—calm, composed, but undeniably guilty.
"You don't look convinced," he mutters, his lips pressing into a thin line, "Do I look fine to you?"
I don't know how to respond to that.
Because the answer is no.
He looks like he hasn't slept in days. His face is drawn, thinner than it should be. His shoulders are stiff, weighed down by something invisible.
I want to say something—anything—but before I can, he continues.
"I haven't slept for two days," he states. His voice is too even, too
controlled. "And I am entirely responsible for your accident."
What...? No. No, no, no.
He holds my gaze.
"I pushed you too hard." His voice doesn't waver, but there's something raw beneath it. "You hit your head against a brick wall before collapsing onto the pavement."
My blood runs cold.
He… pushed me?
I fell?
"I don't believe you," I say, my voice weak but desperate. "You—You wouldn't—"
"I did," he cuts in. "And this is the result."
My breath catches in my throat.
I search his face again, waiting for him to take it back, to tell me I misunderstood.
But he doesn't.
He just stands there.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Unshakable.
Hopeless.
I feel something twist deep inside my chest.
This can't be real.
This can't be the truth.
But the way he looks at me—tired, guilty, utterly certain—tells me that it is.
Nii-san's words linger in the air, heavier than anything he's said so far.
"You were acting… unlike yourself these past few days," he continues, his voice quieter now, like he's forcing himself to admit something he doesn't want to. "I thought you were being irrational. That you were searching for my attention in an extreme way."
I feel a sharp sting in my chest.
That's—
"I was wrong," he says before I can argue. His jaw tightens. "Deeply, completely wrong."
There's something raw in his voice now.
His hands curl into fists at his sides. "It wasn't until your friend pointed it out that I realized."
I almost miss it.
Almost.
But that word.
That single word slams into me harder than anything else he's said.
"...What?" My voice is barely a whisper.
Nii-san isn't looking at me. His gaze is slightly averted as if just speaking these words pains him.
"My mistake only became clearer after he explained everything," he continues as if he didn't just say something completely absurd. "And when I understood, it only made my actions more unforgivable."
I don't hear the rest.
I don't care about the rest.
Because that one word keeps echoing in my mind.
Friends.
I swallow down the strange discomfort bubbling in my chest and force myself to speak.
"You're wrong." My voice is sharper than I intended, but I don't take it back. "I don't need friends."
He finally looks at me again.
And the expression on his face—
It's not a disappointment. It's not frustration.
It's sadness.
A deep, quiet grief that I don't understand.
It unsettles me to see him like this.
"...I see," he murmurs, more to himself than to me.
My voice was steady. Matter-of-fact.
Because I've never needed friends.
I don't need people.
I've always been fine on my own.
Nii-san exhales quietly, running a hand through his hair.
"In that case, I'll add that to my ever-growing list of mistakes," he mutters.
"...What?"
Why does he keep saying things like that?
Why does he sound like—
Like this is always his fault?
I sit up a little straighter.
"Nii-san, what happened to me?"
He hesitates.
Just for a second.
Then, finally, he speaks.
"Maybe it was my fault from the very beginning," he says, his voice unreadable. "Your friend—" there it is again, "—suggested that I check the school's security footage."
I frown from sheer distaste. "And, what's the issue?"
"And that's when we noticed something was wrong," he continues. "You were visually unresponsive in class. You rarely blinked. Most of the time, you simply stared at one spot while the lessons went on around you."
That—
That can't be right.
"Doctors believe those were early signs of whatever caused your condition," Nii-san says. "If we had noticed sooner, we could have—" He stops, and inhales sharply. "We should have noticed sooner. That was our biggest failure."
His voice is laced with frustration, but I barely hear it.
Because my mind is still stuck on something else entirely.
Me?
Unfocused in class?
Not taking notes? Not paying attention?
That—
That doesn't make any sense.
I'm always listening. Always analyzing. Always thinking three steps ahead.
Even if I don't always interact with people, I make sure to absorb everything.
For me to just… sit there blankly, staring at nothing?
Absurd.
Completely and utterly absurd.
A hollow feeling creeps into my chest.
Maybe… maybe it's a good thing I don't remember this past month.
I'm not sure I want to know.
The sudden creak of the door opening interrupts my thoughts.
I immediately turn my head, my gaze snapping to the entrance.
The fabric of a school uniform—not hospital attire.
A student?
My reaction is instant. "How can someone just walk in without knocking?"
My voice is sharp, my frustration slipping through before I can temper it.
But then—
—my thoughts stop.
Not slow down.
Not fade.
They halt.
Completely.
I don't understand why.
I don't understand anything for a moment.
Nii-san speaks first.
"Ah, Ayanokouji." His voice is calmer now. Familiar. "You're here."
A nod.
The student greets him and steps fully into the room, his expression unreadable.
Nii-san exhales, then gestures slightly toward him.
"This is Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. Your classmate," he says. Then, after a brief pause— "And the friend I mentioned earlier, Suzune."
My mind is still frozen, thoughts refusing to process properly.
"He was the one who called the ambulance in time," Nii-san continues.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka speaks.
A short introduction. Nothing elaborate. Nothing unnecessary.
He doesn't deny the claim that we're friend.
Which makes me satisfied enough.
I should barely register it.
It should be insignificant.
It should mean nothing.
So why—
—why is my body suddenly b-burning?
I blink.
O-Once.
Twice.
The hospital room remains the same, the walls just as sterile, the atmosphere just as heavy. Nothing has changed.
E-Except me.
Except the way my body reacts, heat crawling up my neck, creeping into my face.
Why—?
W-Why does it feel like my skin is too tight? Like my heartbeat is no longer under my control?
I grip the blanket between my fingers. T-Too tight. Too hard. But it doesn't help.
N-Nothing helps.
This is wrong.
T-This is all wrong.
I—I need to analyze this. I n-need to understand it.
And yet—
M-My thoughts are slipping.
S-Scattering.
They aren't structured.
They aren't logical.
They're a m-mess.
T-Too hot.
I can feel my pulse hammering in my ears, drowning out everything else. I c-can't breathe properly.
T-This shouldn't be happening.
W-What in the world is this!?
The heat isn't just in my face.
It isn't just in my skin.
It—it's deeper.
L-Lower.
A dull warmth pools in my belly, strange and heavy, like a flickering ember waiting to ignite.
I gasped.
W-What is this?
What is wrong with me?
It won't stop.
W-Why am I sweating!?
It won't stop.
My chest feels tight but in a way that puts me to shame.
My stomach hot.
It's like something is trying to claw its way to the surface, something buried deep, something I—I should know.
But I don't.
And the fact that I don't—
It makes the heat worse.
I barely register when he speaks.
"I only came to tell you," his voice is calm, neutral, steady—so unlike me right now—"that Sensei said you don't need to worry. You'll be able to take your midterms in the next session."
I hear him.
But I don't process it.
I can't.
I can't think.
I can't breathe.
My fingers twitch.
I—I don't understand.
I don't understand.
Why—
"Then, I'll be going."
His gaze flickers to mine—just for a moment.
Then he turns.
And walks toward the door.
…That's it.
That's all.
So why—
Why does my chest clench like this?
Why does my breath catch in my throat, refusing to move?
A horrible, horrible feeling crashes over me.
It's not panic.
It's not fear.
It's worse.
It's—
It's something primal.
Something raw.
Like something inside me is screaming.
Don't let him leave!
I jolt, fingers tightening around the blanket until my knuckles turn white.
W-What?
Where did—?
What does that—?
But the feeling only grows.
Louder.
Stronger.
Something desperate. Familiar.
A weight slams against my chest, squeezing, crushing—
My body feels like it's trying to tear itself apart.
Like if he walks through that door—
If he disappears from my sight—
Something will break.
Something will shatter.
Something I can't afford to lose.
But I don't know what it is.
And I don't understand why.
I just know—
I can't breathe.
I don't think.
I don't process.
I just—
"S-Stop!"
The word rips out of my throat, raw and desperate, before I even realize I'm the one shouting.
He freezes mid-step.
Then, he looks at me with a slight widening of his eyes.
My chest heaves, my breath ragged and uneven—labored.
I feel burnt out, like I've been running for miles—like something inside me has been ripped open—
Like I'm barely holding myself together.
What… What is this?
This isn't me.
This shouldn't be me.
I don't do this. I don't need people. I don't care if someone leaves.
Why does my entire body feel like it's begging me not to let him go?
Why does it hurt?
Why does it hurt so much?
My fingers started trembling. My vision feels hazy as if my own mind is fighting against me, trying to break through something—
What am I forgetting?
This unbearable, excruciating weight.
Why does it feel like if he walks away—
If he disappears from my sight—
I'll never see him again?
My vision blurs completely—when my throat tightens and something hot spills down my cheeks—that I understand what's happening.
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing to stop, but the more I try to hold myself together, the worse it gets. My breath shudders. My body trembles. I feel helpless, utterly powerless against the storm raging inside me.
And then—
Footsteps.
Slow. Controlled. Steady.
Coming closer.
I can't see anymore. The world around me is a mess of indistinct colors, shapes melting together as my tears refuse to cease.
Then—a touch.
Something soft brushes against my cheek, wiping away the heat trailing down my skin.
Warmth.
Gentle. Careful. Powerful.
I should recoil. I should hate this. I should push this hand away, snap at him to keep his distance—to stay at least a meter away from me.
But I can't.
I don't.
"Horikita."
Something in me shatters.
It's just a single word.
And yet—
It feels like a spark igniting in the dark.
A sudden rush of something—of everything—coursing through me like a pulse, like a forgotten heartbeat roaring back to life.
A shock rushes through my body the second his hand touches my skin.
It's overwhelming. It's terrifying.
It's—
It's—!
"I-Idiot,"
I choke out, my voice breaking, trembling, barely even my own.
Tears won't stop. My breath's uneven and erratic.
"I t-told you..." My fingers dug into his uniform as I hugged him desperately.
"I told you not to d-dare disappear—!"
The words stumble out, fractured and desperate, breaking apart between gasps of air. My chest hurts. My entire body hurts.
It burns.
He doesn't move for a moment. His eyes stay locked onto mine.
Then—
"...I'm sorry."
Just two words.
Soft. Almost gentle.
But they only make my tears fall harder.
The moment my lips crash against his, something inside me snaps.
I don't think. I don't hesitate.
A choked noise escapes me as I clutch at his uniform, fingers twisting in the material, pulling him closer—desperate, needy, like something in me will break apart if there's even a sliver of space between us.
My body burns. My mind is a blur. There's nothing else—no hospital room, no past, no future—just this. Just him.
A shiver runs down my spine as his warmth seeps into me, as his lips move against mine with that same quiet, controlled intensity that's always been him. But I don't want control. I don't want restraint.
M-More.
My breath hitches as he tilts my head, deepening the kiss, pressing back against me with all the emotions that have been suffocating me—grief, longing, confusion, love.
S-so warm.
My pulse pounds in my ears. My entire body feels like it's on fire.
He starts to pull away—just a fraction—but I won't let him.
"Mmn...!" A whimper escapes before I can stop it, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him back down, refusing to let go.
I can't.
I won't.
When he finally pulls away, my body feels like it's melting.
My breath comes in ragged gasps, my chest rising and falling rapidly as heat floods every inch of me. My fingers are still curled into his uniform, trembling slightly, refusing to let go completely.
I stare up at him, my vision hazy, my mind drowning in the aftermath of everything—of the fire still burning beneath my skin, of the way his touch lingers like an imprint on my soul.
A slow, dazed smile spreads across my lips.
My face is hot. My body is a mess. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely think straight.
And yet—
"I-I t-told you," I stammer through uneven breaths, my voice barely above a whisper, "I love you... a-and I meant it." My fingers tighten around his collar, dragging him closer. "I-I'm staying—s-so don't you dare leave me."
I don't even realize what I'm doing until the words slip out, raw and unfiltered, pouring straight from the depths of my soul.
And before I can second-guess myself—before I can even catch my breath—
"I w-want more," I murmur, my lips parting slightly, my body instinctively leaning up toward him. "Kiss me again—"
—cough.
A sharp noise cuts through the haze.
My body jolts.
Slowly, so slowly, I turn my head.
Nii-san stands there.
Still watching.
Expression unreadable.
Casually wiping his glasses with a cloth.
Oh.
Oh, no.
Heat explodes across my face.
I freeze completely, my entire body going stiff, mortification crashing over me like a tidal wave. My hands are still clutching Ayanokouji's uniform. My breath is still uneven. My lips are still tingling from the kiss I just demanded more of.
And Nii-san—Nii-san—
He saw everything.
I want to die.
The silence is unbearable.
Then, with the slowest, most deliberate movement I've ever seen, Nii-san places his glasses back on, clears his throat, and speaks.
"Don't mind me," he says, far too calmly. "Please, continue."
I choke.
The moment Nii-san steps out, the tension snaps like a rubber band.
Before I can process anything—before I can even catch my breath—he is already leaning back down.
I barely manage to gasp before his lips are on mine again.
A sharp, shuddering breath escapes me as his mouth moves against mine, deeper this time, less restrained. I pull him down, closer, closer—as if there's any space left between us to steal.
His warmth presses into me, heat everywhere, my body arching instinctively into him, my mind spinning as his lips move with slow, teasing precision. It's intoxicating. Overwhelming. My legs shift beneath the hospital sheets, helpless to the fire spreading through me.
The second he parts from me, I can't stop the small whimper that escapes.
"Horikita."
His voice.
That voice.
The familiar way he says my name—so simple, so steady, yet laced with something deeper—makes my breath hitch.
I blink up at him slowly, still dazed, heat buzzing beneath my skin.
"H-Hah…?"
And that's when my brain malfunctions.
A rush of heat slams into my face as the realization of everything crashes down all at once.
I'm—this is—I'm still lying on a hospital bed—
My lips still tingling—
"D-Do you even know—" I suck in a breath, my voice wobbling. "Where boys like you should be!?"
His brows lift slightly. He doesn't move.
I point a trembling finger at him, face burning.
"H-Horny Jail! I-Idiot!"
Silence.
His eyes darken in a familiar way that send shivers down my spine.
And then, before I can say another word, his hand moves.
Slipping under the edge of my hospital gown.
A sharp gasp catches in my throat.
My body jerks, a helpless noise escaping as his fingertips brush over my bare skin—hot and slow and deliberate.
"Y-You—" My voice cuts off as a shiver runs through me, my breath shattering.
I barely manage a single thought before his hand slides higher.
And then I'm whimpering, my body betraying me completely.
D-Damn you!
I don't think. I can't.
I yank him down and crush my lips against his—
Giving in to the fire completely.