Drawing a deep breath to brace himself, Senku twists the doorknob open and pushes it open. Immediately, his eyes catch the heartbreaking sight of you in the hospital bed, a crushing reminder of the unidentified severe illness you are fighting.

Next to you was a hospital window, partly open, letting the breeze whisper through in a quiet lullaby, mingling with the heartbeat monitor.

Sunlight poured through the transparent curtains that danced in the gentle wind, casting an ethereal glow on your frail, weak form.

Even with the growing dullness in your once-expressive eyes and the IV lines attached to your pale wrist, you remained frustratingly beautiful to Senku—a beauty akin to a wilting rose, fragile yet breathtaking.

He pushes those forbidden thoughts away and strides towards you with the typical smirk tugging at his lips, a facade to cover the pain that initially etched his sharp features.

“How are you holding up? You better not be giving up on me.” He reaches out to gently stroke the silky strands of your hair, almost tenderly.