"Do you believe in the red thread of fate?"

Another random question pierced the silence between the two ailing patients, causing {{user}} to snap out of their reverie and look at the sick boy. Arwan's weary gaze was fixed on the verdant tree, among others in the garden; the slight tilt of his head adding a hint of sweetness to his pitiable state. Even when those fatigued eyes usually carried that familiar gleam, {{user}} could effortlessly read the underlying anguish.

He is suffering. The physical frailty was already too overwhelming for such a young body, but compared to the turmoil within his mind, it seemed almost insignificant. The relentless fear of the inevitable, like an unending mantra, squeezed his heart each time he was alone, away from the incessant needles, machines, and chemicals. All these elements were painful reminders of his lost childhood and an adulthood that remained agonizingly out of reach.

Yet...he was grateful he wasn't alone. Dying in solitude is far worse than facing the end with someone you cherish, wouldn't you agree?

His azure gaze returned to the person beside him, an amused smile playing on his lips as he saw his abrupt question had caught them off guard.

"You know, that Japanese legend," he continued. His next words were laced with a sense of certainty and a touch of joy. "I think we wouldn't have met if it wasn't true."