The wind on Our backs

24- winter

The last days of autumn slipped away quietly, and before Rachel realized it, winter had arrived. With the first snowfall of the year, a shimmering white blanket covered the landscape, and the world outside her window seemed transformed. As Rachel sat at her desk, a faint smile spread across her face when she saw snowflakes drifting gently through the air. It was her first time experiencing snow; in Singapore, where she grew up, the climate was perpetually warm and humid. She couldn't contain her excitement, so she quickly called her parents to share the moment with them. They laughed together, sharing in her wonder, and Rachel felt a bit of home in that shared joy.

After hanging up, Rachel took a picture of the view outside her window and sent it to Adrien. She texted him, "Look, snow! Do you want to go out and play in it tomorrow? I bet it's even more beautiful up close." To her delight, Adrien responded with an enthusiasm that had been rare lately. "Yeah, I'd like that," he replied. "Let's do it."

The next day, Rachel arrived at Adrien's house, practically bouncing with excitement. His parents greeted her warmly, though they couldn't help but chuckle at how she shivered, despite already wearing a jacket. "It's just that I've never experienced snow before," she explained, her breath visible in the crisp air. Adrien's mother went to fetch a thicker coat for her, and Rachel accepted it gratefully.

Adrien emerged from the hallway, bundled up in his winter jacket. He moved slowly, cautiously descending the stairs. Rachel instinctively reached out to offer her help, but Adrien stopped her with a stubborn look. "I don't need help," he said softly but firmly. His parents and Rachel stood by, their concern evident, but they respected his wish to do it on his own. He made it down the stairs, though each step was a reminder of how weak he had become.

Outside, the world sparkled under a thin layer of fresh snow. Adrien and Rachel settled on the porch, side by side, with snowflakes dusting their hair. Adrien watched Rachel as she stuck her tongue out, trying to catch the falling flakes. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his camera, snapping a picture of her. The flash went off unexpectedly, and Rachel turned to him, laughing. "You caught me off guard!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her delight. "Why do you always take pictures when we're not looking?"

Adrien shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Why not?" he replied. The real answer lay deeper, but he wasn't ready to share it. He showed her the picture he had just taken, along with some candid shots of his parents. "You've got a whole collection of silly pictures," Rachel said, shaking her head. "But I like them. It's real."

There was a moment's pause. Rachel noticed Adrien staring off into the distance, his expression distant and lost. This had become more frequent in the past few months; sometimes he would space out completely, and she'd have to call his name or even shake his shoulder to bring him back. Today, as she gently nudged him out of his reverie, Adrien blinked and then apologized. "I'm sorry," he murmured, as though embarrassed by his lapse. "I've been feeling... worse lately. I think I should probably go to the hospital next week. I just—I can't keep pretending everything's fine."

Rachel nodded, though her heart sank. "That's probably for the best," she agreed, trying to keep her voice steady. "If it helps you feel better... I'll come by after school to visit." Adrien gave her a reassuring smile, but she saw through it. The smile didn't reach his eyes; it was too tight, too practiced. She noticed, for the first time, that his left snaggletooth wasn't visible when he forced himself to grin like that.

Later, at home, Rachel tried to immerse herself in her assignments, but the thought of Adrien going to the hospital kept intruding. She set down her pen, covering her face with her hands, willing herself not to cry. She hated the thought of him lying in a hospital bed, even if it was only for a few days. And more than that, she hated the helplessness that gripped her, knowing there was nothing she could do to ease his pain.

The next day, as she made her way to the hospital after her lecture, Rachel's path was intercepted by someone she hadn't expected to see—Krystal. Rachel had spotted her across the quad with a group of friends and deliberately looked away, not wanting to engage. But Krystal caught her eye and began walking over.

"Rachel, wait!" she called out, her voice hesitant. Rachel sighed inwardly but turned to face her. "What do you want?" she asked, her tone even.

Krystal hesitated, shuffling her feet as though she wasn't sure whether to stay or go. "I... I just wanted to apologize for what happened at the party," she began. "I should have said something sooner, but I was—"

Rachel cut her off. "You were what? Afraid?" There was no anger in her voice, just exhaustion. "Look, if you're only saying sorry because you feel guilty, then it doesn't really matter to me. I've moved on."

"I know," Krystal replied, her voice barely a whisper. "But I just want you to understand... Back in high school, those were the only friends I had. I thought that if I didn't have them, then I'd have nothing. So I did things I'm not proud of."

Rachel's gaze hardened. "If you think that's an excuse, then you're still missing the point," she said. "You hurt me, and you did it just to please people who didn't even care about you. Was the love I tried to give you not enough?"

Krystal bit her lip, glancing down. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," she said finally. "I just... I'd like it if we could be friends again."

Rachel regarded her for a long moment, then shook her head. "Friends don't treat each other like that," she replied quietly. "I hope you figure out what you need to be happy, Krystal. But I'm not the answer." With that, she turned away and boarded the bus, leaving Krystal standing alone at the stop.

When Rachel arrived at the hospital, she tried to steady her nerves in the elevator, practicing her expression in the mirrored walls to make sure she looked composed. As she stepped into Adrien's ward, she saw him lying in bed, watching the news on the small, grainy television mounted in the corner. He turned to her and attempted a lighthearted greeting. "Hey Rachel. Don't worry, you haven't missed anything. It's just a bunch of boring news."

Rachel managed a smile as she walked over to his bedside. "I didn't come here for the news" she teased. "How are you holding up?"

Adrien shrugged. "Same as always" he said, though his voice lacked its usual humor. "The doctors gave me some meds. They're supposed to help with the pain, but..." He trailed off, then added with a forced chuckle, "I guess it's working... sort of."

Rachel could see how pale he looked, how thin he had become. The sight of him in the hospital bed made her chest tighten, and she bit her lip to hold back the tears. She sat down beside him and took his hand. His fingers felt cool and delicate, like they might break with the slightest pressure. "Adrien," she whispered, "don't be afraid to ask the nurses for help, okay? You don't have to be stubborn about everything."

He glanced at her, his eyes softened with something like gratitude. "I'll try," he said. Then, with a touch of his old mischief, he added, "But only because you asked and my parents kept telling me that too."

The room fell quiet as Adrien turned his attention back to the television. Rachel stayed there with him until the evening shadows grew long. When it was time for her to leave, she packed her things and leaned over to give him a gentle hug. "Get some rest," she murmured, her voice catching in her throat. "And don't worry about me, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

Adrien smiled at her as she pulled away. It was a small, sad smile, the kind that left Rachel feeling both comforted and hollow. It was the kind of smile that spoke of all the things left unsaid, the fears shared silently between them.

As Rachel walked out of the hospital, the chill of the evening air bit at her cheeks. She looked up, her breath fogging in the cold as she stared at the darkening sky. It had stopped snowing, but the world still felt hushed and blanketed, like the earth was holding its breath. For a moment, she let herself imagine a different reality—one where Adrien wasn't in a hospital bed, where they could still run around and laugh in the snow together. But that reality felt so distant now, so impossibly far away.

Rachel closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The air was crisp and stung her lungs. She clutched the edges of her coat and walked on, willing herself to stay strong, even if she was afraid.