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Heeseung
Heeseung couldn't feel his legs anymore. His sobs had quieted to shaking breaths, his body slouched against the bed where Aiko lay still — lifeless.
He held her hand in both of his, his forehead resting against the edge of the mattress.
Her fingers were cold.
"Aiko..." he whispered, voice hoarse and raw. "Aiko... please... please come back. I can't—"
His voice cracked. He couldn't finish the sentence.
"I can't do this without you."
The others had stepped back, giving him a moment. Some were still crying. Some were silent.
But Heeseung didn't care.
He had only her hand in his grip.
His thumb brushed the back of her knuckles.
"Do you remember the first time we argued in that busted hallway?" he whispered. "You said I was the most arrogant person you'd ever met."
A tear slid down his cheek. He let out a short, broken laugh.
"You hated me. You did. And now look at us. Look at me."
He pressed his lips to her knuckles.
"I love you. You have to wake up. You have to come back to me. I don't care what it takes. I'll fight the whole world if I have to. Just... don't leave me here alone."
Silence answered him.
Until—
Thump.
Heeseung blinked.
Was that...?
He pressed two fingers to her wrist, right above the vein.
And there it was—faint. So faint it felt like a memory. But real. A slow, fluttering pulse.
"Yuna!" he gasped, turning his head sharply. "Yuna—check her pulse!"
Yuna rushed over immediately, fingers moving with practiced speed. Her eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat.
"It's there..." she whispered. "She has a pulse. It's faint, but it's real—it's there!"
The room snapped out of its mourning in an instant.
The monitor, which had been still moments ago, let out a soft, slow beep.
Then another.
Slower than normal. But steady.
The line moved again. A heartbeat.
Heeseung's chest heaved, unable to process what he was seeing. His tears renewed, but this time in stunned disbelief.
"Oh my God—Aiko—baby, you're still here," he breathed. "You're still here."
