A strange, unnatural silence reigned in the "Future" room. The lights from the ceiling shimmered with colors—red, blue, green, as if someone were trying to give color to something that had no soul. In the center stood a table, on it lay dice, and around it—seven doors, each different, each leading to a different fate.

Nika held them in her hand. They were light, transparent, as if made of ice. She didn't know which way to choose, didn't know if it even made sense.

And then she heard a familiar voice, too quiet, yet too close:

"Nika..."

She turned slowly. Kai stood there. Tall, despite the cart rolling beside him. His black hair fell across his forehead, and his gaze—deep, piercing, warm, yet dangerous.

"Kai...? How... how did you get here?" she whispered.

He smiled faintly, like someone who had known the answer for a long time.

"I've been here from the beginning." I've always been where you are.

His voice was soft, but it held an echo of obsession, something that sounded like prayer.

"Since school... remember?" he began slowly, moving closer. "You sat in the last row, and I... sat in the first row, so they wouldn't see me looking at you. Every day I wrote in my notebook. Not assignments, not lessons. I wrote about you."

He pulled a small, worn notebook from his pocket. Nika saw her own name—written hundreds of times.

The letters trembled, as if written by the hand of someone afraid every word might disappear.

"I wrote about you sitting by the window... how you laughed softly, how you wore that blue sweater..." he continued, whispering slowly. "Then there was the accident. I lost my legs. I thought it was over. But when I was there, in the hospital, I still saw your face. I still heard your voice."

Nika swallowed. She took a step back, but Kai had already moved—not in a wheelchair. He stood, wobbling, on weak legs.

"And now the game has given me a choice. 'Future,'" he said quietly. "I was supposed to roll the dice. Draw my fate. But I already know my own."

He walked up to her.

"It's you."

A message appeared on the screen:

Choose your door: happiness, loneliness, death, love, freedom, connection, destiny.

Kai didn't even glance at the screen. He opened the door marked "LOVE."

Warm pink light pulsed inside.

"You don't have to choose, Nika," he said calmly. "I'll choose for us."

Before she could react, she felt his hand tighten on her wrist. Gently, but firmly. In one movement, he pulled her inside. The door closed with a dull thud.

The world beyond was unreal. The room was filled with pale candlelight. Two mugs of tea lay on the table, and photos—their photos—hung on the walls. Nika stood in amazement. In the photos, she saw herself—sleeping, smiling, writing. He must have had them for a long time.

Kai walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Do you understand now?" he whispered. "This game... only gave me one option. To be with you."

"Kai... this isn't real," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's a dream, an illusion."

"If this is a dream," he replied calmly, "then I don't want to wake up."

He rested his head on her shoulder. "Don't be afraid of me. I don't want you to suffer. I just want you to stay."

Nika felt her heart beating faster. There was no world outside the window—only a warm glow, as if reality had ended at the edge of this room.

Kai smiled through his tears. "See? The game's over." Now we're in my future. In ours. I love you.'

Nika stood silently while Kai admired the photos of them together and wheeled the cart to the table with food and tea.