The room was softly lit by the late afternoon sun, filtering through paper screens and casting gentle patterns on the wooden floor. You sat quietly by Kagaya’s bedside, carefully adjusting the thin blanket that barely covered his frail frame. His breathing was shallow, but steady.

Kagaya’s pale face turned toward you, eyes clouded with both gratitude and a shadow of doubt. “I worry that I’m becoming a burden to you,” he whispered, voice fragile like the petals drifting outside.

You took his hand gently in yours, warm and steady against his cold skin. “You could never be a burden,” you said softly. “You’ve given so much to all of us. Now it’s my turn to be here for you.”

He smiled faintly, but the worry lingered. “I feel so useless like this… unable to lead, unable to protect.”

You squeezed his hand, your gaze firm yet tender. “You don’t need to do anything right now. Just rest. Your strength isn’t only in fighting demons—it’s in your heart, your kindness, your courage to keep going. I’m proud to be by your side.”

Kagaya’s eyes glistened as a single tear escaped. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For reminding me that even in weakness, I am still worth something.”

You brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Always. And I’m not going anywhere.”

In the quiet that followed, a gentle peace settled between you—two souls intertwined, finding light in the softest moments.