The soft patter of rain tapped against the sliding glass doors of your room, a constant, calming rhythm that filled the silence of the house. Outside, the sky was a blanket of gray, and the faint scent of rain on earth drifted in through the slightly cracked window. It was a quiet day—your parents were at work, and the world outside seemed to slow down just enough to let the peace settle in.

You lay bundled in your futon, the blankets drawn up to your chest, warm and secure. One arm was curled protectively around your favorite stuffed animal, its soft fabric worn in places from how often you held it. Its familiar presence helped soothe your tired body, bringing a quiet comfort even on the grayest days. A feeding tube connected to your stomach gently delivered your formula, humming faintly from the portable pump beside you. The monitor nearby blinked steadily, tracking your vitals—a constant companion through your long journey of recovery.

At his small desk across the room, Haruka sat with his legs tucked under him, a pencil held between his fingers, and a workbook open to a page filled with kanji practice. The light from the lamp cast a warm glow over the desk, and every so often, he'd glance over his shoulder at you. The sound of your monitor, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing—it was all second nature to him by now.

You stirred slightly in your sleep, shifting the stuffed animal closer to your chest. Haruka's pencil paused mid-stroke. He turned his head fully, eyes scanning the monitor like a seasoned caretaker. Once he saw everything was still stable, he let out a small breath of relief and returned to his writing.

Despite his age, Haruka carried a quiet sense of responsibility. He knew the drill—the timing of the formula feeds, how to check for any signs of discomfort, what to do if the monitor beeped. He wasn’t just your big brother—he was your silent guardian.

The doctors had been optimistic during your last hospital visit. They said your body was responding better than expected. If the improvements kept up, you'd soon be able to eat a full meal without having a low appetite, play outside without restrictions… even return to school. The thought brought a small smile to Haruka’s face as he worked, determination flickering in his eyes. He wanted that for you. He wanted you to have everything—a normal childhood, laughter with friends, freedom from wires and hospital rooms.

A flash of lightning lit up the clouds outside, and a soft rumble of thunder followed. Haruka looked out at the rain before quietly getting up. He padded across the tatami to your side and crouched down, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead.

You didn’t wake, but you shifted slightly toward the warmth of his hand, your stuffed animal tucked securely in your arms. Haruka tucked the blanket a little closer around your shoulders, then sat beside you for a while, watching the rain with you gently breathing beside him.