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"MR ITOSHI," THE VOICE ON THE OTHER END of the phone was strained with sympathy.
"i'm terribly sorry. please accept my deepest condolences."
itoshi sae stared, wide-eyed. the phone felt heavy in his suddenly weak hand. tears welled up, blurring his vision.
why now? this couldn't be happening. how much bad luck could one person handle?
his mother.
the woman who had always been there, a constant presence in his life. the one who supported him through thick and thin, who loved him unconditionally.
his mother. gone.
this was too much. first, his girlfriend's life hanging by a thread in surgery, and now this? he'd seen his mother just days ago, healthy and vibrant.
how could things change so quickly?
anger and confusion swirled within him. it wasn't fair. he felt adrift, alone in a sea of grief.
he just didn't understand.
a choked whisper escaped sae's lips, "why now, mom? why today of all days?" tears, warm and salty, traced his cheeks.
things were finally looking up, why this cruel twist?
straightening, sae met his reflection in the glass of the emergency room door. a familiar face, framed by h/c locks, lay still on the other side.
"please," he breathed, a silent plea to the unconscious figure, "fight for me, y/n."
with a final, agonized glance, sae turned away and dialed the number that held the news his mother had delivered.
"i'm so sorry, y/n," he said, voice thick with emotion. "i'll be right back, i just ... i need to see mom one last time."
— — —
the sterile scent of disinfectants clung to sae as he rushed through the automatic doors of his mother's hospital.
his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs, each beat echoing the turmoil within him.
he had barely acknowledged the time passing, his focus solely on reaching his mother's side.
taking a shaky breath, sae pushed open the door and saw woman in the bed covered with a white blanket.
sae sank into the chair beside the bed, his gaze fixed on the blanket that is covering his mother. he reached out a hand, slowly uncovering his mother.
he gently cupped her cheek. the warmth had left her skin, replaced by a coldness that sent a shiver down his spine.
she looked frail, a stark contrast to the energetic woman he'd always known.
her usually bright eyes were closed, and the lines on her face seemed deeper, etched with a lifetime of love and worry.
"mom," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.
the word hung heavy in the air, a single note in the discordant melody of his grief.
so many unspoken words, so many things left unsaid. a million questions bubbled up, a torrent of "why" and "how" threatening to drown him.
he closed his eyes, picturing his last visit. her smile, warm and genuine.
her laughter as they reminisced about childhood memories.
the memory felt like a cruel trick of a fading mind. it couldn't be just days ago.
a single tear escaped his tightly shut eyes, tracing a warm path down his cheek.
"please take care of her, sae. don't ever stop loving her. she deserves the world."
he quickly wiped it away, a flicker of defiance igniting within him.
he had to be strong.
y/n needed him. her surgery, the uncertainty hanging over them like a storm cloud — it couldn't wait.
taking a deep, shuddering breath, sae straightened his spine. he wouldn't let this break him.
not entirely.
he would grieve, of course, honor his mother's memory. but he wouldn't let it consume him.
he owed that to y/n, to their future bathed in that promised spanish sunshine.
he stood up, his gaze lingering one last time on his mother's peaceful face.
"i love you forever, mom," he whispered, a promise hanging in the air.
with a final, resolute nod, sae turned and left the room. the sterile scent outside no longer felt as suffocating.
he had a purpose now, a renewed determination etched on his face. he would navigate this storm, for his mother, for y/n, and for himself.
the path ahead was shrouded in gloom, but somewhere in the distance, a tiny ember of hope flickered, refusing to be extinguished.
