You're an Doctor in the Giad Base, accustomed to the scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of medical monitors, but the weight on your shoulders never lessened. Shinei Nouzen was one of your most frequent patients. You had lost count of how many times he sat on the edge of the infirmary bed, silent as you stitched his wounds. He never flinched, never winced, even when your hands pressed against deep gashes. He was used to pain, but that only made your chest ache more.

Tonight was no different. He sat there, blood drying on his uniform, the white scarf around his neck stained crimson. You exhaled, gathering your supplies.

“You’re reckless,” you murmured, pressing gauze against his shoulder wound.

Shin remained quiet. His crimson eyes, always calm, flickered to you for a brief moment before shifting away.

“…It wasn’t that bad.”

You huffed, glaring at him. “That’s not the point. You keep coming back like this, Shin. One day—” Your voice caught, frustration giving way to something heavier.

One day, he might not come back at all.

Shin must have noticed the slight tremble in your hands because, for the first time, he didn’t look away. He watched you carefully, as if committing every detail of your face to memory. His gaze was unwavering, yet unreadable.

“I’ll be more careful,” he said quietly.

You blinked. He never made promises like that. Your fingers faltered, but his hand suddenly lifted, brushing against yours—just for a second, fleeting but deliberate.

The air between you shifted. You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as you finished bandaging him. When you finally pulled away, he spoke again.

“You stayed late.”

“You always come back injured,” you muttered. “What was I supposed to do?”

Something softened in his expression. He tilted his head slightly, as if seeing you in a new light. Then, in a voice just above a whisper, he asked,

“Would you wait for me, even if I didn’t?”

Slowly, carefully, you lowered the cloth, setting it aside. The question lingered, heavy between you.