Kaito’s near-fatal accident becomes the catalyst that forces each character to confront their own grief, guilt, and long-avoided truths. Ren spirals and finally cracks, Aoi steps in as an unexpected lifeline, and Kana unravels—only to be held together by Shin in a moment that shifts their dynamic irrevocably. As Kaito recovers, old feelings resurface, unspoken crushes complicate, and the past begins to loosen its grip.
“Disclaimer: This story’s ideas, characters, plot, sequencing, and scenes are entirely my original creations. However, ChatGPT assisted in refining the wording, paraphrasing, and generating the illustration for the featured image. This narrative draws inspiration from the song ‘Memories of The End’ by UVERworld.“
Chapter 40: The Breaking Point
The bar was dim, the air thick with alcohol and regrets.
Aoi had rushed there the moment she hung up.
She didn’t think.
Didn’t hesitate.
And now—now she was standing in front of Ren Takumi, watching him unravel in a way she had never seen before.
He was slumped against the counter, eyes hazy, unfocused.
The bartender gave Aoi a knowing look. “He’s been like this for a while. Good luck.”
Aoi exhaled sharply, stepping closer.
“Ren,” she called, voice firm but quiet.
Ren blinked sluggishly, head turning toward her—
Then—his face twisted.
Like he was seeing someone he didn’t expect.
Like he was seeing someone he didn’t want to see.
His lips parted, and the words that came out were soft, broken.
“…You’re not Yui.”
Aoi froze.
Ren blinked again, confused, frustrated, lost.
“Why…” His voice cracked. “Why are you here?”
Aoi swallowed. “Ren—”
“Why is it always you?” he mumbled.
His hands shook slightly as he pressed them to his head.
“I don’t—” His breath hitched. “I don’t want you, Aoi.”
Aoi felt something in her chest tighten, but she stayed still.
Ren let out a shaky, bitter laugh.
“I want Yui,” he whispered.
Then—his voice broke entirely.
“…Yui…”
His fingers gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white.
“I’m sorry…”
Then—his entire body shook.
And before Aoi could process what was happening, Ren was crying.
Not just quiet tears.
Not just a single drop down his cheek.
He was breaking.
Aoi didn’t think.
Didn’t hesitate.
She stepped forward—and held him.
His body tensed at first, resisting—then, slowly, he sank.
Sank into the weight of his own grief.
Sank into her arms.
Aoi closed her eyes, steadying herself.
“Ren,” she murmured. “I know.”
He trembled.
Shaking hands gripping her sleeves, desperate, lost.
Aoi didn’t tell him it was okay.
Didn’t tell him to stop crying.
Didn’t tell him that one day, it wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Because she knew none of that would be true.
Instead, she just held him there.
And when he finally stilled, when his breathing was ragged but slower, she reached for her phone.
She needed to get him home.
She needed to get him out of here.
She called for a cab.
And as she waited, Ren’s broken whisper echoed in her mind.
“I want Yui.”
But he was holding onto her.
And Aoi didn’t know what that meant.
* * *
The emergency room was too white.
Too sterile.
Too much like the place she never wanted to be again.
Kana sat in the waiting area, arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring at the doors that had taken Kaito away from her.
The nurse had come out a few minutes ago, asking for permission to proceed with surgery.
Kana’s hands shook as she gave them Kaito’s parents’ contact information.
She should have been stronger.
She should have been ready for this.
But all she could do was whisper, “No… no… not again…”
Her breath was shallow, too fast, too uneven.
She pulled her knees to her chest, her mind flashing back—
To the last time she had sat in a waiting room like this.
To the last time she had felt this kind of helplessness.
“I can’t lose him too.”
Her voice cracked.
Tears blurred her vision, her entire body trembling as she curled inward, trying to hold herself together.
Trying to keep from falling apart.
Then—
A warmth.
A steady, grounding warmth around her shoulders.
Kana flinched at first, but then—she realized.
Shin.
He had moved without saying anything, kneeling in front of her, his arms wrapped around her as if trying to shield her from everything.
His voice was quiet, but steady.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured.
That was it.
No false reassurances.
No telling her that everything would be okay.
Just that.
Kana broke.
Her fingers clutched the fabric of his jacket, her breath shaking uncontrollably.
Shin didn’t let go.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
He just held her.
And Kana, for the first time in a long time—
Let someone hold her.
* * *
Chapter 41: The Call That Changed Everything
Ren was half-conscious by the time Aoi managed to get him into his apartment.
She had never seen him like this.
Not just drunk.
Not just messed up.
But completely, utterly lost.
His body was heavy as he collapsed onto the couch, his breathing uneven.
Aoi ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply.
She had no idea what to do.
And there was only one person she could think of who might.
She grabbed her phone, scrolling to Kana’s name.
Pressed Call.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
The sound that hit Aoi like a punch to the gut.
Sobbing.
Hard, broken, murmuring something incoherent through the receiver.
Aoi’s breath caught. “Kana?”
More sobbing.
Aoi froze.
Kana never—never—let herself break like this.
Aoi gripped the phone tighter. “Kana, what happened?”
There was some rustling—muffled sounds.
Then—a different voice.
A steady, calm but heavy voice.
Shin.
“Aoi,” he said.
Aoi’s chest tightened. “Shin? What’s going on?”
A pause.
Then—the words that made Aoi’s blood run cold.
“Kaito was in a car accident.”
Aoi’s world tilted.
She barely registered the way her fingers clenched, the way her breath hitched.
Kaito.
Kaito, who had become her first real best friend here.
Kaito, who annoyed the hell out of her but had always been there.
Kaito, who had joked with her just hours ago.
No.
No, no, no.
Aoi swallowed, her voice tight. “Is he—?”
“He’s in surgery,” Shin said quietly.
Aoi pressed a hand against her forehead, trying to breathe.
Trying to think.
“…Kana?” she asked after a moment.
Shin sighed. “She’s… not okay.”
Aoi squeezed her eyes shut.
Of course, she wasn’t.
Not after Yui.
Not after everything.
Aoi licked her lips, her voice shaking. “I—I have Ren.”
Shin was silent for a moment.
Then, his voice softened.
“…Stay with him. I’ll update you on Kaito.”
Aoi gripped the phone like a lifeline.
“Okay.”
And then the call ended.
* * *
Aoi dropped her phone onto the table, her hands shaking.
She wanted to break.
Wanted to cry, scream, throw something—
Because this wasn’t fair.
Because why did it have to be Kaito?
Because what if Kana lost someone else?
What if Ren lost someone else?
Aoi clenched her jaw, her chest aching.
She had lost people before.
She had been abandoned.
But this—this was different.
Kaito wasn’t just some guy she met in passing.
He was her friend.
Her annoying, loud, ridiculous friend.
The one who had teased her back to life when she first got here.
The one who had sat with her, talked about nothing and everything.
The one who, without her realizing it—
Had become important.
Aoi closed her eyes, forcing the tears back.
Not now.
She couldn’t fall apart now.
Because Ren needed her.
She turned, looking at him.
His face was peaceful, for once.
But even in sleep, his brow was furrowed, his lips parted slightly—
And then, a whisper.
Soft. Painful.
“…Yui.”
Aoi’s throat tightened.
Of course.
Even now.
Even in sleep.
He was still suffering.
Still chasing after someone who wasn’t here.
Aoi pressed a hand against her chest, breathing through the ache.
Then, carefully, she reached for the blanket on the couch.
Pulled it over him.
Watched him for a moment longer.
Then, finally, she turned off the light.
And let the night swallow them both whole.
* * *
Chapter 42: The Things We Say to the Unconscious
The hospital room was too quiet.
The only sounds were the rhythmic beeping of the monitor, the occasional footsteps of nurses outside, and Kana’s own shaky breathing.
She sat beside Kaito’s bed, her fingers wrapped tightly around his hand.
It was warm.
But too still.
Too lifeless.
She hated it.
She wanted him to scowl at her.
Wanted him to tease her.
Wanted him to be Kaito—the one person she had always counted on to be loud and frustratingly alive.
Instead, he was silent.
His chest rose and fell in steady, mechanical breaths, but his eyes—**the ones that had always sparkled with mischief, the ones that had always made her feel like she wasn’t alone—**remained shut.
Kana swallowed, her grip on his hand tightening.
The doctor had said talking might help.
So she talked.
Even if her voice trembled.
Even if tears burned her eyes.
Even if she felt like she was coming apart.
“Kaito…”
She let out a shaky breath.
“You remember when we first met?” she whispered.
A small, broken chuckle escaped her lips.
“You were an idiot back then, too.”
Her fingers brushed over his knuckles, her voice cracking.
“You, me, and Ren… we were such a mess, weren’t we?”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“But we were happy.”
She sniffled, pressing her forehead lightly against their intertwined hands.
“And then Yui…”
Her breath hitched.
A sob shook through her.
“She left us, and everything fell apart.”
Her fingers trembled.
“And I tried, Kaito,” she whispered. “I tried to hold us all together. You, Ren… I thought if I was strong enough, if I never let myself break, I could keep us from falling apart completely.”
Her vision blurred.
“But now—” She choked on a sob. “Now you’re here, and I—I can’t do this again, Kaito. I can’t lose you too.”
Her body shook, her voice desperate.
“Please, Kaito…”
She squeezed his hand, pleading, begging.
“Wake up.”
A tear fell onto his hand.
And then—the words that had never left her lips before.
Words she had always known, but had never said aloud.
Words that no longer mattered, but still hurt all the same.
“I liked you, you know.”
A hollow, broken laugh escaped her.
“I always knew it was one-sided. I knew you loved Yui. And that was okay. Because I loved her too.”
Her fingers curled, her shoulders shaking.
“But you—” She took a shuddering breath. “You were always there. Always so… bright. And I don’t—”
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“If you wake up,” she whispered, “I’ll never ask for anything. I’ll never make things weird. Just—”
She leaned closer, her forehead pressing against their joined hands.
“Just don’t leave me too.”
The only answer was the steady beep, beep, beep of the machines.
And Kana—Kana had never felt so helpless.
* * *
Shin sat in the hallway, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor.
He didn’t listen.
Didn’t want to listen.
But every now and then, he could hear it.
Kana’s voice.
Pleading.
Breaking.
Falling apart.
And Shin—
Shin didn’t know what to do.
He had always known.
Always known Kana liked Kaito.
Had always respected it.
Had always told himself it wasn’t his place to feel anything for her.
But now—hearing her sobbing in that room, hearing the way she broke just for Kaito—
It was a different kind of pain.
Something he couldn’t name.
Something that made his hands clench, his breath tighten, his heart ache.
Because he didn’t just care about Kana.
He didn’t just want to protect her.
Somewhere along the way—he had fallen in love with her.
And now, he was watching her break for someone else.
Shin closed his eyes, inhaling slowly.
This wasn’t about him.
It had never been about him.
So he pushed it down.
Buried it.
Because Kana needed him as a friend.
Not as someone who wanted more than she could give.
And Shin—Shin didn’t know how much longer he could pretend that was enough.
* * *
Chapter 43: The Morning After & The News That Changed Everything
Ren’s head felt like it had been cracked open.
A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind his eyes, and his mouth was dry—disgustingly dry.
He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where he was.
His apartment.
Dim morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows over the floor.
His body felt heavy, sluggish.
His mind was a mess.
The last thing he remembered was—
Aoi.
And then—nothing.
Ren groaned, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead as he sat up.
That’s when he saw it.
A figure, slumped over his kitchen counter.
He frowned, squinting against the lingering haze of his hangover.
Aoi.
She was asleep, her head resting on her folded arms, her breathing steady.
Her hair was messy, falling over her face.
And her eyes—
Even closed, they looked puffy.
Like she had been crying.
Ren’s chest tightened.
Why?
What happened?
He swallowed, forcing himself to his feet.
His movements were slow, unsteady, as he made his way toward her.
“Aoi,” he murmured.
She stirred slightly, frowning in her sleep.
Ren hesitated, then reached out—a gentle nudge against her shoulder.
Aoi let out a small, exhausted sigh, her eyes fluttering open.
The moment she saw him, she straightened.
She blinked, as if registering his presence.
Then—a long, slow exhale.
“You’re awake,” she muttered, voice hoarse from sleep.
Ren frowned.
“You look terrible.”
Aoi scowled, rubbing her face. “Good morning to you too, jerk.”
Ren ignored her retort, his gaze lingering on her swollen eyes.
“…What happened?”
Aoi went still.
Her fingers tightened slightly against the counter.
Then, instead of answering, she pushed a bowl toward him.
“Take the soup first,” she murmured.
Ren eyed it warily. “What is it?”
Aoi sighed. “Hangover soup.”
Ren frowned but took the spoon anyway.
His head was too much of a disaster to argue.
He took a sip.
It was… not bad.
Salty, warm, and it immediately made his stomach settle.
Aoi watched him silently, her expression unreadable.
Ren narrowed his eyes. “You’re stalling.”
Aoi inhaled sharply.
Then—she finally spoke.
“Kaito was in an accident last night.”
The spoon clattered against the bowl.
Ren’s body went rigid.
“…What?”
Aoi’s voice was tight, but steady.
“He was drinking. He got in his car. He crashed.”
Ren’s fingers curled into a fist against the counter.
The world tilted, not from his hangover—but from the sheer weight of those words.
“Kana got the call,” Aoi continued, her voice quieter now. “He was out of surgery now, but still hasn’t woken up”
Ren was already moving.
His headache didn’t matter.
His hangover didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except getting to the hospital.
“Let’s go,” he muttered.
Aoi was already grabbing her jacket.
And together, they ran.* * *
Chapter 44: The Weight of Reality
Ren and Aoi rushed through the hospital doors, breathless, their footsteps echoing against the sterile floor.
The moment they stepped inside, they saw them.
Kana.
Standing near the waiting area, eyes red, body trembling.
Shin.
Beside her, steady, composed, but with something heavy in his expression.
And then—Kaito’s parents.
Kaito’s mother was already holding onto Kana, sobbing against her shoulder.
Kana, who had been holding everything in for hours, finally broke.
Her body shook violently, her hands gripping Kaito’s mother’s back as if letting go would make her fall apart completely.
Ren stopped mid-step.
His breath caught.
Everything around him felt muted.
Like he was watching from the outside.
Like his brain couldn’t process the scene in front of him.
He had expected…
He didn’t know what he had expected.
But not this.
Not Kana breaking.
Not Kaito’s mother sobbing.
Not this crushing weight that felt eerily similar to another moment, another time, another hospital.
His vision blurred.
His fingers twitched uselessly at his sides.
And then—without thinking, without meaning to—
He reached for Aoi.
His hand gripped her sleeve, almost too tight, almost desperate.
Aoi froze for half a second.
Then, slowly, she covered his hand with her own.
Ren didn’t say anything.
Didn’t move.
He just stood there, gripping onto Aoi like she was the only thing keeping him from falling.
Scene 2: The Reality They Had to Face
Shin was the one to finally speak.
His voice was calm, but firm. Holding everyone together when they couldn’t hold themselves.
“Kaito’s been out of surgery for four hours,” he said.
Ren barely registered the words.
He felt numb.
Aoi let out a shaky breath. “Is he…?”
Shin’s jaw tightened slightly. “He’s stable. But unconscious. The doctor said the next 24 hours are important.”
Kana let out a soft, broken sob, still clinging to Kaito’s mother.
Kaito’s father, usually composed, wiped at his face roughly.
Ren swallowed. His throat felt dry.
Everything was happening too fast.
Or maybe he was just too slow to catch up.
Shin looked between them, steady even in this mess.
“Do you want to see him?” he asked, his gaze landing on Ren.
Ren’s stomach twisted.
Yes.
No.
He didn’t know.
But Aoi gave his hand a small squeeze.
And somehow, that was enough to keep him moving.
***
Chapter 45: The Words Left Unsaid
The hospital room was too cold.
Too sterile.
Too much like a place Ren never wanted to be in again.
But Kaito was here.
And that meant Ren had to be here too.
He stepped inside, his breath shallow, uneven.
Kaito lay in the hospital bed, too still, too quiet.
There were wires, machines, beeping monitors.
Ren hated it.
Hated seeing Kaito like this.
Hated that he hadn’t been here last night.
He let out a slow breath, stepping closer.
Pulled a chair beside the bed.
Sat down.
For a long moment, he didn’t speak.
Didn’t know what to say.
But then—the words came anyway.
“…I’m sorry,” he murmured.
His voice was rough, barely above a whisper.
Ren swallowed, his hands clenching into fists.
“I should have been here,” he admitted. “I should have noticed.”
His gaze drifted to Kaito’s face, to the faint bruising near his temple, the bandages covering his injuries.
Ren’s jaw tightened.
“I was drunk last night,” he confessed. “Drowning in my own mess while you—”
His breath shook.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
“…You were alone.”
His fingers curled against his knee.
“I get it now,” he whispered. “Why you did it. Why you drank, why you got in that car.”
His throat felt tight.
“But Kaito—”
His voice cracked.
“You have to wake up, okay?”
He inhaled, unsteady.
“We cannot lose you.”
His fingers twitched.
“Kana can’t lose you.”
His breath stilled.
“…I can’t lose you.”
The only response was the steady beeping of the monitors.
Ren swallowed hard, leaning forward slightly.
“Just…” His voice softened. “Come back.”
He let the silence settle.
Then, after a long moment, he stood up.
Glanced at Kaito one last time.
Then, finally, he left the room.
* * *
The moment Ren stepped into the hallway, Kana was there.
She wasn’t crying.
She wasn’t breaking.
She just… looked at him.
And then, without hesitation—she hugged him.
Ren froze.
Kana had always been the strong one.
The one who held things together.
The one who didn’t lean on others.
But this—this wasn’t her breaking.
This was her letting him in.
Ren’s body relaxed slightly, his hands hovering for a moment before he hugged her back.
Then—softly, barely above a whisper—
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
Kana’s fingers tightened slightly against his back.
Ren swallowed. “I wasn’t there last night. I—”
His voice caught.
“You shouldn’t have had to face this alone.”
Kana exhaled, pulling back slightly, her hands still resting on his shoulders.
“You process differently,” she murmured. “We all do.”
Her gaze was soft, understanding.
“I just wish,” she whispered, “that I had been there last night. With you. With Aoi.”
Ren’s chest tightened.
He nodded, barely.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he had to carry everything alone.
* * *
Chapter 46: Watching From the Sidelines & The Things We Say to the Unconscious
Aoi and Shin stood a few steps away, watching.
Watching as Ren and Kana held onto each other in a way that felt both fragile and unshakable.
Aoi’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeves.
Shin stood beside her, hands shoved into his pockets, his jaw tight.
They weren’t part of this moment.
They weren’t the ones who had lost Yui.
They weren’t the ones who had spent years drowning in her absence.
But still—they felt it.
Aoi swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper.
“They… don’t need us right now, do they?”
Shin exhaled through his nose. “No.”
Aoi bit the inside of her cheek.
She had never seen Ren like this.
Never seen Kana let herself lean on someone else.
And yet—this moment wasn’t hers to interrupt.
“…It’s strange,” she muttered, staring at them. “Seeing them like this.”
Shin didn’t answer immediately.
Then—softly, quietly, as if speaking more to himself than to her—
“It’s not strange,” he murmured. “It’s just overdue.”
Aoi blinked.
Turned toward him.
Shin’s gaze was steady, unreadable.
But there was something heavy in his voice.
Something that Aoi wasn’t sure how to name.
And maybe—maybe she wasn’t supposed to.
Not yet.
So instead, they just stood there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Knowing that, eventually, their turn would come.
—
The hospital room was too quiet.
Too still.
Kaito was lying there, unmoving, unresponsive.
Aoi stepped inside slowly, hesitating for the first time.
She wasn’t good at this.
Wasn’t good at waiting, at being helpless, at not knowing what to do.
But this was Kaito.
Kaito, who had made it his mission to annoy her from the moment they met.
Kaito, who had become the best friend she never expected.
Kaito, who had always been there to lighten the mood—even when everything was falling apart.
Aoi swallowed hard, pulling up a chair beside him.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her fingers twisting together.
She let out a slow, shaky breath.
“…You’re an idiot,” she muttered.
Her voice wavered.
Her throat felt tight.
“But I guess you already knew that.”
Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry.
Because Kaito would hate that.
Because if Kaito woke up and saw her crying, he’d never let her live it down.
Aoi sniffed, rubbing at her nose.
“The doctor said talking helps,” she continued. “I don’t know if that’s true, but—”
Her voice dropped, quieter now.
“But if you can hear me, Kaito…”
She hesitated.
Then, finally, she let the words come.
“I miss your tantrums.”
She let out a short, breathy laugh—not quite humor, not quite sadness.
“I miss your stupid jokes.”
Her fingers clenched.
“I miss the way you always act like life is a joke, even when it’s not.”
She exhaled sharply.
Her voice cracked when she whispered—
“I just miss you.”
She swallowed.
Then, just barely above a whisper—
“Please wake up.”
She forced a smile, even though no one was watching.
Even though the only person who would appreciate it wasn’t awake to see it.
“Because, honestly?” she muttered. “I don’t know what to do with Ren and Kana if you don’t.”
The room remained still.
No answer.
No movement.
Just the steady beep, beep, beep of the monitors.
Aoi closed her eyes.
Waited.
Hoped.
Because Kaito always knew how to show up when she least expected .
* * *
Chapter 47: The Return of Kaito Arata
Everything was too bright.
Too sharp.
Too loud.
Kaito groaned, blinking against the harsh light filtering into the hospital room.
His body felt heavy, sluggish, like he had been trapped in some kind of dream.
Voices.
Familiar ones.
But everything was still blurry.
His vision cleared slowly, and the first thing he saw was Kana.
She was sitting right beside him, gripping his hand so tightly it almost hurt.
Her eyes were red, her face streaked with dried tears.
Then—another movement.
Ren, sitting near the window, staring.
Not saying anything.
But watching.
As if he had been there the entire time.
Kaito frowned slightly. His voice was rough, hoarse when he spoke—
“…Why does my head hurt so much?”
Everything happened fast after that.
Kana’s breath hitched—”Kaito?”—and before he could react, Ren was already standing, moving toward the door.
“Doctor,” Ren called, voice sharp, controlled. “He’s awake.”
And suddenly—it was chaos.
Doctors, nurses, voices blending together, checks, movements, flashes of people coming in and out.
Kaito couldn’t keep up.
And honestly?
He was too tired to try.
* * *
The next time Kaito really noticed anything, the room had quieted again.
His parents were gone, off with the doctors for more discussions.
Now, it was just—
Ren. Kana. Him.
The three of them.
The way it used to be.
Kaito exhaled, blinking toward them.
“So,” he muttered, voice still scratchy. “Did I die or what?”
Kana stiffened.
Ren let out a vague huff, somewhere between exasperation and relief.
Then—Kana exploded.
“You jerk!”
Kaito flinched.
“You absolute idiot, do you even understand how worried we were?!” she snapped.
Kaito blinked. Whoa.
Before he could process it, she was still going.
“You got in that car, you almost—” Her breath hitched, her voice breaking.
Kaito’s heart sank.
He had never seen Kana like this.
So unfiltered. So shaken.
And then—before he could react, before he could even think,
Kana burst into tears.
Not the quiet, contained kind.
The real kind.
The kind that crushed something inside him.
She gripped his hand tighter, her shoulders trembling.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she whispered.
Then, softer—
“Thank God you’re okay.”
Kaito stared at her.
For the first time, he had no words.
None.
He swallowed hard, shifting slightly.
Then—the only thing he could say.
“…I’m sorry.”
Kana let out a choked, frustrated laugh.
Kaito’s grip tightened slightly against hers.
And then—Ren’s voice broke the moment.
“It’s good to have you back, buddy.”
Kaito glanced up.
Ren was watching him, his expression unreadable.
But his lips tugged slightly—just barely—into a vague, ghost of a smile.
Something in Kaito’s chest ached.
Not from the injuries.
Not from the accident.
Just from the realization that he had almost left this behind.
And for the first time, he really understood.
He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Not again.
* * *
Chapter 48: The People Who Stayed
Aoi strode into the hospital room, arms crossed, gaze sharp as she stopped at Kaito’s bedside.
Kaito blinked at her.
“…Oh, great,” he muttered. “Now you are here to yell at me too?”
Aoi huffed. “Damn right I am.”
She pulled up a chair, leaning forward with a deadpan stare.
“You were a jerk,” she announced.
Kaito snorted. “I almost died and that’s the first thing you say?”
“Yes.”
Kaito sighed dramatically, rubbing his temple. “No sympathy at all.”
“Zero,” Aoi shot back.
Then—her expression softened, just a little.
“But seriously, Kaito,” she said, voice quieter now. “You scared the hell out of everyone.”
Kaito paused.
For the first time, he really looked at her.
At the way her fingers were clenched against her sleeves.
At the way her usual teasing tone was strained, just barely.
Aoi was annoyed.
But she had also been worried.
Kaito swallowed, his voice quieter now.
“…I wasn’t thinking.”
Aoi exhaled sharply. “Obviously.”
A pause.
Then, softer—
“You should know you’re not in this alone, Kaito.”
Kaito stared at her.
Aoi leaned back, arms still crossed.
“Both Kana and Ren were grieving too. But instead of letting them in, you drank yourself stupid and crashed a car. You guys should really talk.”
Kaito’s throat tightened.
He looked down, fingers twitching slightly against the sheets.
Aoi sighed, then stood up, patting his leg lightly.
“Just think about it, yeah?”
Kaito didn’t answer.
But he didn’t brush it off either.
And Aoi knew that meant something.
* * *
Aoi left, and moments later, Shin walked in.
Kana was with him, standing beside him, looking steadier now.
Kaito glanced between them, noticing how Shin moved slightly closer to Kana without even thinking.
Kaito exhaled, offering a small smirk.
“So,” he muttered. “I hear you were the one keeping everyone together.”
Shin tilted his head. “Someone had to.”
Kaito chuckled weakly. “Guess I owe you one, huh?”
Shin shook his head. “No.”
Kaito blinked.
Then—Shin’s next words were calm, steady.
“I wanted to,” he said.
Kana stiffened slightly beside him.
Kaito didn’t miss it.
Didn’t miss the way Kana’s fingers twitched.
Didn’t miss the way her ears went pink at the edges.
Didn’t miss the small flutter in her chest that she was probably trying to ignore.
Huh.
Kaito studied them for a second.
Then, slowly, he smiled—but this time, it was different.
Quieter.
Knowing.
“Thanks for taking care of Kana,” he said, his voice light, but pointed.
Shin simply nodded.
Kana, however, looked like she wanted to disappear.
Her fingers clenched against her sleeves, and she swallowed hard, looking away.
Kaito narrowed his eyes slightly.
Because for the first time, he wasn’t sure if Kana was just grateful to Shin.
Or if it was something else entirely.
And for some reason, he couldn’t ignore the way that made his chest feel a little tight.
* * *
Chapter 49: The Lingering Moments & Unspoken Struggles
The walk to Kana’s apartment was quiet, the air still carrying the crisp chill of the night.
Shin had been walking beside her in that usual way of his—calm, steady, a silent presence that never felt heavy.
They stopped at her building, standing just a few feet apart.
Shin shifted slightly, as if debating whether to say something.
Kana beat him to it.
“You don’t have to keep escorting me everywhere, you know,” she muttered, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets.
Shin huffed a quiet laugh. “I know.”
Kana narrowed her eyes. “But you do it anyway.”
Shin shrugged. “I want to.”
Kana’s breath hitched just slightly.
She knew he meant it casually.
He was like this—quiet, dependable, effortless in the way he cared.
But still—those three words settled a little too deeply.
She turned toward her door, ready to say goodnight—
But before she could move, Shin reached out.
His hand rested on her head, a light, lingering pat.
Not teasing.
Not playful.
Just gentle. Warm. Real.
Kana froze.
Shin’s fingers lingered just for a second.
Then, his voice—calm, certain.
“Rest a bit before you go back to the hospital.”
Kana couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
She just nodded slowly.
And then, he stepped back.
“Goodnight, Kana.”
Kana barely registered him leaving.
She was still standing there, stuck in place, trying to process what just happened.
* * *
The door clicked shut behind her.
Kana leaned against it, closing her eyes tightly.
Her fingers curled into her sleeves, her heartbeat uneven.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
Not now.
Not when Kaito was still in the hospital.
Not when she had just cried her heart out for him hours ago.
So why was she thinking about Shin?
Why did his touch linger?
Why did his voice stay in her head?
Kana clenched her fists.
Shin had been her rock through all of this.
He had been the one who held her together when she was falling apart.
And now, her feelings were shifting, tilting—
And she had no idea what to do about it.
“What does he think of me, really?”
The thought came unbidden, uninvited.
But it was there now.
And Kana couldn’t ignore it.
* * *
Aoi stretched as she and Ren arrived at their apartment complex.
It had been a long, exhausting day.
Aoi was ready to collapse.
But then—Ren hesitated.
She blinked, turning toward him.
“What?” she asked.
Ren shifted slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Then—grudgingly, stiffly—
“…Thanks.”
Aoi stared.
Hard.
Ren scowled. “What?”
Aoi grinned, crossing her arms. “Did I hear that right? A thank you? From Ren Takumi?”
Ren groaned. “Forget it.”
He turned toward his door, but Aoi grabbed his sleeve, laughing.
“Hey, hey, I’m not letting this go,” she teased.
Ren sighed heavily.
But then—softer this time—
“I mean it.”
Aoi blinked.
Ren didn’t meet her gaze, but his voice was quieter now.
“Thank you,” he muttered. “For… being there. For me. For Kaito.”
Aoi’s grin softened.
She shrugged. “Kaito’s my friend too.”
Ren nodded slightly, as if accepting that.
Then—a pause.
A longer hesitation.
Ren exhaled, his fingers tensing slightly.
“…And I’m sorry.”
Aoi tilted her head. “For what?”
Ren’s jaw clenched slightly.
“For what I said,” he muttered. “When I was drunk.”
Aoi blinked.
Then—she smirked.
“Oh, that? I never took it to heart.”
Ren looked at her sharply. “You—”
Aoi waved him off. “Ren, you were dead drunk. You said dumb things. I didn’t expect a love confession, trust me.”
Ren scowled, turning away. “That’s not—”
Aoi laughed, stepping back toward her door.
“Night, Ice Prince.”
Ren let out an exasperated sigh.
But for once—just for a second—he didn’t mind it.
* * *
Chapter 50: Seeing What Was Always There
The days after the accident were slow.
Kaito was still recovering, still under observation, still processing everything that had happened.
But at least, he wasn’t alone.
Kana was here.
She sat by his bedside, peeling an apple, her movements steady, practiced, effortless.
It was a small thing. Something normal.
But for some reason, Kaito couldn’t stop watching her.
The sunlight filtered through the hospital window, casting a warm glow over the room.
It caught on Kana’s dark hair, highlighting the contrast against her pale skin.
For the first time, Kaito really looked at her.
Really saw her.
And in that moment—he realized.
She was beautiful.
Not just in the obvious way.
Not just because of her sharp eyes or delicate features.
But because of this.
Because of how she always showed up.
Because of how she was always here, steady, unshakable, just like she had always been.
And maybe—maybe he had taken that for granted for too long.
Before he even thought about it, the words left his mouth.
“You’re beautiful.”
Kana snorted.
“What did the accident do to your head?” she muttered, still focused on the apple.
She brushed it off so easily.
Like it meant nothing.
And Kaito let her.
Because maybe it wasn’t the right time.
Or maybe she didn’t want to hear it from him.
He wasn’t sure which bothered him more.
* * *
A knock on the door broke the moment.
Kaito glanced up, frowning.
Then—Ren walked in.
Expression neutral, but serious.
“They’re here.”
Kaito sighed.
He didn’t even have to ask.
The police.
He had been drinking.
He had gotten behind the wheel.
He had crashed.
Of course, this was going on his record.
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
Then, quietly—
“Will you stay?”
His voice was lighter than usual.
Like he didn’t want to ask.
Like he didn’t want to need them.
But he did.
And for once, he was letting himself admit it.
Kana didn’t hesitate.
Ren didn’t either.
Both of them nodded.
“Of course,” Ren said simply.
Kana reached out, gripping Kaito’s hand firmly.
A small squeeze.
Encouragement.
Assurance.
Kaito exhaled.
Then, finally, he nodded.
“Alright then,” he muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”
* * *
Chapter 51: The Distance That Shouldn’t Be There
Kana had always thought she would know the moment Kaito saw her differently.
She had spent so many years knowing her feelings were one-sided.
So many years being the friend, the steady one, the rock.
And yet—when it finally happened…
When Kaito finally looked at her like she was something more…
It didn’t feel like anything at all.
Kana sat by herself in the hospital cafeteria, fingers wrapped around a cup of tea.
Kaito’s words still lingered in her head.
“You’re beautiful.”
Once upon a time, those words would have wrecked her.
Would have sent her spiraling with hope, with longing, with regret.
But now?
She had felt nothing.
Not even a flicker of excitement.
Not even the heart-stopping moment she always imagined.
She had just… brushed it off.
Like it didn’t matter.
Like it wasn’t what she had been waiting for all these years.
Kana stared at the tea in front of her.
Her chest felt tight, but not in the way she expected.
Because if she didn’t feel anything when Kaito finally saw her…
Then what had she been holding onto all this time?
And more importantly—
Why did she feel something whenever Shin was around instead?
* * *
Shin was never the kind of person to avoid things.
He was steady, practical, and logical.
But now?
Now, he was avoiding Kana.
Not obviously.
Not in a way that anyone would notice.
But he felt it.
Felt himself putting space between them—little by little, in ways she wouldn’t call him out for.
He didn’t text as much.
Didn’t show up for every hospital visit.
Didn’t linger when he walked her home.
Because he knew.
He knew Kana still cared about Kaito.
He knew Kaito was waking up to what he had in front of him.
And Shin wasn’t the kind of person to get in the way of that.
So he stayed where he was supposed to be.
On the sidelines.
Just like he always had.
Even if it hurt.
* * *
Chapter 52: The Homecoming & The Conversations That Matter
Kaito had never been so relieved to step out of a hospital.
The past few days had been a mess—physically, emotionally, everything.
But now, he was going home.
His parents walked beside him, his mom still fussing over him, his dad quiet but reassuring.
And then, of course, there was Kana.
Always there. Like she always had been.
And Ren, who walked a step behind, hands in his pockets, eyes watchful.
Kaito sighed. “You guys act like I barely survived.”
Kana glared at him. “Because you barely survived.”
Kaito grinned, but it was weak. “Still here, though.”
And then—he saw her.
Aoi.
She stood just a little away from the group, shifting on her feet, like she wasn’t sure if she should be here.
Her usual confidence, her sharp remarks, her easy presence—
It wasn’t there.
For the first time, Aoi looked hesitant.
Like she wasn’t sure if she belonged.
And for some reason—that didn’t sit right with Kaito.
So before anyone else could say anything, he called out.
“Aoi!”
Aoi blinked. “Uh. Yeah?”
Kaito grinned. “Took you long enough to visit. Thought you forgot about me.”
Aoi rolled her eyes, stepping closer, her normal expression slipping back into place.
“You just got discharged, idiot.”
Kaito smirked. “So you do care.”
Aoi huffed. “Regretting it already.”
But her lips twitched, and Kaito knew—she felt more comfortable now.
That was good.
Because she was part of this now.
Whether she realized it or not.
* * *
Once Kaito was settled in his room, his parents temporarily staying with him, he finally had a moment of quiet.
Or at least—a moment alone with Ren.
Kana and Aoi were with his mom in the kitchen, helping her prepare dinner.
Ren sat across from Kaito, arms crossed, silent.
Kaito exhaled, leaning back.
“…So,” he started. “What do you think about Kana and Shin?”
Ren tilted his head slightly.
Kaito waited.
Ren hesitated for a moment, then let out a slow breath.
“I think,” he murmured, “Shin is good for Kana.”
Kaito blinked.
Ren’s gaze was thoughtful, unreadable.
“I saw him at the hospital,” he admitted. “How he handled everything. How he kept things together when no one else could.”
Kaito swallowed.
Because he had seen it too.
Had seen how Kana had leaned on Shin.
Had seen how Shin had held her together.
And it made something twist in his chest.
“…What if,” Kaito said, voice quieter now, “I have feelings for Kana?”
Ren went completely still.
Then—he sighed.
Not in frustration.
Not in annoyance.
Just in resignation.
Ren leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees.
“Then,” he said, his voice careful, “be careful.”
Kaito frowned. “Of what?”
Ren held his gaze.
“Of Kana’s heart,” he said simply. “And of your own.”
Kaito’s breath hitched.
Because he understood.
This wasn’t about claiming her first.
This wasn’t about a fight for Kana’s feelings.
This was about not breaking something that was already fragile.
Kaito exhaled slowly.
Then—he nodded.
“…Yeah,” he murmured. “I get it.”
Ren just watched him.
Because for once, he knew Kaito wasn’t just joking around.
And for the first time, Kaito wasn’t so sure of his next move.
* * *
Chapter 53: The Fear of What Comes Next
Ren had seen this coming.
He wasn’t blind.
He knew his best friends.
Knew Kana had always had a crush on Kaito.
Knew Kaito had always loved Yui.
And for years, that was the unspoken truth that kept everything balanced.
Because Kaito chose Yui. And Yui chose Ren.
Because Kana never had the chance to be chosen.
And now—now everything was shifting.
Ren sat by himself, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.
Kaito’s words echoed in his mind.
“What if I have feelings for Kana?”
Ren exhaled sharply, rubbing his face.
He was afraid of this.
Afraid of what would happen if Kaito finally looked at Kana the way she had always wanted.
Afraid that it was too late.
Afraid that Kaito would end up hurting her.
Not on purpose.
But because Kaito had never seen her that way before.
And Ren—Ren didn’t want to see Kana break.
Not her.
Not after everything.
Because Kana wasn’t just his best friend.
She was Yui’s cousin.
She was family.
And Ren—Ren wanted to protect her.
Because that’s what Yui would have wanted.
Because if Yui were here, she would be watching over Kana, making sure she wasn’t hurt.
And now—now that job fell on him.
But this—this was out of his hands.
He couldn’t stop Kaito.
Not when long ago, Kaito had lost to him.
Not when Yui had chosen Ren over Kaito.
He owed him that much.
But he also couldn’t let Kana get hurt.
Ren let out a slow, heavy breath.
He was so tired.
Tired of grief.
Tired of being the one holding things together.
Tired of thinking about everyone else’s hearts while his own was in a mess.
And then—he looked up.
And saw her.
* * *
Aoi was standing across the room, talking to Kana.
She was smiling slightly, her arms crossed, her expression relaxed but watchful.
She had always been like that.
Sharp, but observant.
Distant, but always paying attention.
And for some reason—she was the only thing in his life that didn’t feel like a weight.
Ren swallowed, his fingers twitching slightly.
Aoi Suzuka was not supposed to matter.
She wasn’t supposed to become important.
She wasn’t supposed to be the one who had been there when he fell apart that night.
And yet—here she was.
In his space.
In his head.
In his chest.
And Ren—Ren didn’t know what to do with that.
* * *
Chapter 54: A Shift She Didn’t Expect & A Moment She Didn’t Know How to Feel
Kana wasn’t used to missing something before she realized it was gone.
But Shin… Shin wasn’t as available anymore.
He still answered her texts.
Still showed up when necessary.
But he wasn’t there like he used to be.
And it left her feeling… off-balance.
At first, she tried to make sense of it.
Maybe she was imagining things.
Maybe he was just busy.
But the more she thought about it, the more it felt intentional.
And that was what confused her the most.
Had she… misread everything?
The way he stayed by her side during the worst of it?
The way he had been her rock when she was falling apart?
Was it all just sympathy?
Kana wasn’t sure why that thought unsettled her so much.
But then—there was Kaito.
Suddenly attentive.
Suddenly always there.
And it made her feel like she was in some upside-down world.
“Shin is distant, and Kaito cares? What kind of timeline is this?”
She didn’t understand it.
But it was happening.
And now… she had to figure out how to deal with it.
* * *
Kaito was stuck at home.
And he was miserable.
“I swear, even six months of social service sounds better than this,” he groaned, throwing himself dramatically on the couch.
Kana rolled her eyes. “You’re such a child.”
Kaito pouted. “You love it.”
Kana ignored him, flipping a page in her book.
Kaito peeked over. “What are you reading?”
“Before the Coffee Gets Cold.”
Kaito hummed. “That’s the one where you can go back in time, right?”
Kana nodded.
Kaito smirked. “So if we found that café, where would you go?”
Kana paused, her fingers holding her place in the book.
Then, softly—
“I’d go back to us,” she murmured. “The four of us. Just… sitting around, drinking coffee, making fun of each other.”
A silence settled.
Not a painful one.
Not a crushing one.
Just a quiet, gentle kind of nostalgia.
Kaito let out a small, wistful chuckle.
“…I’d go there too,” he admitted.
Kana glanced at him.
And for the first time—talking about Yui didn’t feel like dragging a weight behind them.
It felt… lighter.
Like a memory that didn’t just hurt, but also brought warmth.
* * *
Kaito reached out.
Slowly.
Carefully.
His fingers brushed against Kana’s cheek, cupping the side of her face.
Kana froze.
Her heart skipped—just for a second.
Not because it was Kaito.
But because she hadn’t expected it.
Kaito’s gaze was steady, unreadable.
Then—softly, quietly—
“Please, from now on, don’t burden yourself with everybody’s grief.”
Kana’s breath caught.
“We should share it. Please come to me every time it feels like too much.”
His hand was warm.
Grounding.
And yet—Kana didn’t know what to do with it.
She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel something.
She wasn’t sure if she was waiting for her heart to react in a way it didn’t.
Kaito was her best friend.
Had always been one of the most important people in her life.
But this—this was different.
And for once, Kana didn’t know how to react.
So she didn’t.
She just sat there, letting the moment pass before she could figure out what it meant.
* * *
Chapter 56: A Celebration That Felt Different
Kaito’s apartment was lively, filled with the sound of laughter and easy conversation.
His parents had left for their hometown, so it was just them now.
Just like old times—except it wasn’t.
Because now, Aoi was here too.
And somehow, that felt normal.
They bantered, teased, and talked about everything and nothing.
Kaito, despite still recovering, was his usual loud, dramatic self.
Kana and Aoi were in sync, tag-teaming their teasing against Kaito.
And even Ren—even Ren had something to say every now and then.
It felt… light.
Like maybe, for the first time in a long time, things were okay.
At least, for tonight.
* * *
As the night stretched on, Ren found Kana standing on the balcony.
She was staring up at the moon, silent, thoughtful.
He stepped forward, leaning against the railing beside her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—Kana broke the silence.
“…It feels like she’s watching us.”
Ren didn’t flinch.
Didn’t freeze.
Didn’t tense like he used to whenever Yui’s name was said out loud.
Instead—he smiled.
A small, genuine smile.
“She must be,” he murmured.
Kana exhaled softly, shoulders relaxing.
“It doesn’t feel as heavy anymore,” she admitted. “Talking about her.”
Ren nodded.
“Maybe because we’re carrying it differently now,” he said. “Not as a weight. Just… as something that stays with us.”
Kana turned to him, studying his face.
“You’ve changed,” she murmured.
Ren huffed a quiet chuckle. “You sound surprised.”
Kana shook her head. “Not surprised. Just… glad.”
A pause.
Then—the conversation shifted.
“Shin’s been distant,” Ren noted.
Kana hesitated.
“…Yeah.”
Ren tilted his head slightly. “And Kaito’s been the opposite.”
Kana let out a small, tired laugh.
“Yeah.”
She sighed, fingers drumming against the railing.
“I don’t get it,” she admitted. “It’s like they switched places.”
Ren watched her for a moment.
Then—quietly, carefully—
“Kana.”
She glanced at him.
Ren’s expression was calm, steady.
“I only want you to be happy,” he said simply.
Kana swallowed.
“Just follow your heart.”
Kana looked away.
Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?
She wasn’t sure where her heart was leading her anymore.
She exhaled.
Then, turning back to Ren, she studied his face.
His gaze had drifted toward the living room, where Aoi was sitting.
She was laughing at one of Kaito’s ridiculous jokes, shaking her head, completely at ease.
Kana smirked.
“Same goes for you,” she murmured.
Ren blinked, turning back to her.
Kana’s eyes twinkled knowingly.
“Just follow your heart,” she repeated.
Then—she walked away.
Leaving Ren alone with his thoughts.
And for the first time, he didn’t try to push them away.
* * *
Inside, Aoi and Kaito were as lively as ever.
They bounced between psychology, philosophy, anime, and pure nonsense.
Kaito, as always, had something to argue about.
Aoi, as always, had the perfect counter.
“Okay, but listen,” Kaito leaned forward, pointing at Aoi dramatically. “Nietzsche was misunderstood. ‘God is dead’ wasn’t meant to be edgy, it was—”
Aoi groaned. “Oh my God, are you seriously explaining Nietzsche to me right now?”
Kana walked past, shaking her head. “Oh great, another philosophy debate. Should I grab popcorn?”
“She’s just mad because she’s losing,” Kaito smirked.
“I’m not losing,” Aoi shot back. “I just refuse to entertain your interpretation of Nietzsche. Also, I’m more of a Camus person.”
Kaito snorted. “Oh, of course you are. ‘The Absurdity of Life,’ ‘Let’s All Just Accept Chaos’—real inspiring stuff, Suzuka.”
Aoi shrugged. “Hey, it makes more sense than your whole ‘Will to Power’ nonsense.”
“Will to Power is fundamental to human—”
“Kaito,” Kana cut in, amused. “Please stop before I lose brain cells.”
Kaito rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. But for the record, I still think Nietzsche would be a BTS fan.”
Aoi burst out laughing. “What?! No way!”
“Oh, 100%,” Kaito insisted. “He’d be all over the ‘Love Yourself’ era.”
“You’re insane,” Aoi gasped.
Kana just shook her head. “You guys are ridiculous.”
And for a moment—everything was light.
Everything felt normal.
Then—Aoi’s gaze drifted toward a framed picture on the shelf.
A younger version of Kaito, Kana, Ren, and another girl.
Aoi tilted her head.
She had seen the same girl in a framed photo at Ren’s place.
She pointed.
“Is that Yui?”
Kaito’s gaze followed hers.
He stared at the picture for a moment.
Then—a soft nod.
“Yeah,” he murmured.
Aoi leaned in slightly, studying the image.
Then, quietly—
“She’s really beautiful.”
Kaito smiled.
A small, bittersweet smile.
“Yeah,” he said again.
And for once, saying it didn’t hurt.
Not like it used to.
Not like before.
And for now, that was enough.
***
Diary of A Chaotic Dreamer 
Leave a comment