Aika sat beside Riku's hospital bed, her eyes drifting toward the pale glow of the early morning light slipping through the window blinds.
Riku was asleep. His breathing was soft and even, the steady rise and fall of his chest marked by the quiet beeping of the heart monitor. The thin oxygen tube still rested beneath his nose, and the IV line trailed from his hand.
Aika's fingers were still loosely wrapped around his.
Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, feeling the coolness of his skin.
He's sick.
The words echoed relentlessly in her mind.
She had spent so much time with him—laughing, teasing, walking home together under the sunset—and not once had she noticed.
He had collapsed before.
He had been hiding this from her the entire time.
Aika's gaze wandered to his face. His dark lashes rested against his pale skin, the soft glow of the light making the shadows beneath his eyes stand out even more. His hand twitched slightly in hers.
Why didn't you tell me?
The door creaked open.
Aika's head turned.
Riku's mother stepped inside, carrying a small bag. She smiled softly when she saw Aika sitting there.
"Good morning," she whispered.
Aika quickly straightened, pulling her hand away from Riku's. "Good morning."
Riku's mother walked toward the bed, setting the bag down on the side table. Her gaze softened as she brushed Riku's hair back from his forehead.
"Did you sleep at all?" she asked quietly.
Aika hesitated. "Not really."
Riku's mother sat down in the chair on the other side of the bed, her gaze lingering on her son's sleeping face. A wistful expression passed over her face.
"He's always been like this," she murmured. "Strong-willed. Stubborn."
Aika's eyes lowered. "Why didn't he tell me?"
Riku's mother's expression dimmed. "Because he didn't want you to worry."
"That's not fair," Aika whispered. "He's always looking out for me, but he never lets me help him."
Riku's mother's gaze softened. "That's just how he is. Even when he was younger, he hated being seen as weak. He didn't want anyone to treat him differently."
"But I'm not just anyone." Aika's voice tightened. "I… I'm his friend."
Riku's mother smiled faintly. "I think he knows that."
Aika's hands curled into fists in her lap.
"How long has he been sick?"
Riku's mother sighed. "Since he was twelve."
Aika's breath hitched. Since middle school…
"The doctors diagnosed him after he collapsed during gym class. He spent weeks in the hospital afterward."
"And he didn't tell anyone?"
Riku's mother shook her head. "Just his close family. Even then, he kept most of it to himself."
Aika's chest tightened painfully. "That's not fair…"
Riku stirred beneath the blankets. A low hum escaped his throat, and his eyelashes fluttered.
Aika's head snapped toward him.
"Riku?"
His eyes opened slowly. His gaze was hazy at first, but when his eyes focused on her, a small smile pulled at his lips.
"Morning," he murmured.
Aika's heart squeezed painfully. "Idiot."
Riku's smile grew faint. "You said that already."
"You deserve to hear it again."
He let out a weak laugh and winced, his hand pressing lightly to his chest.
Aika's eyes narrowed. "Does it hurt?"
"Just a little."
Riku's mother stood and placed a hand on his forehead. "You need to rest. The doctor will be here soon."
Riku sighed. "Yeah, yeah."
His gaze drifted toward Aika.
"You stayed?"
Aika's jaw tightened. "Of course I stayed."
Riku's smile faltered. "You didn't have to."
Aika's eyes flashed. "Stop saying that."
Riku's gaze softened.
"I mean it," Aika's voice trembled. "You scared me. Do you even realize how scared I was?"
Riku's smile faded.
"I thought…" Her voice broke. "I thought you were going to die."
Riku's eyes widened slightly. His hand shifted toward her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Stop apologizing!" Aika's voice sharpened.
Riku's lips parted, startled.
Aika's hands trembled at her sides. "Just… stop pretending like this isn't a big deal. Stop acting like it's nothing!"
Riku's mother's gaze flicked between them, worry creasing her brow.
Riku's gaze lowered. "I didn't… want to worry you."
"You did worry me!" Aika's throat tightened painfully. "You don't get to keep things like this from me."
Riku's eyes softened. "Aika…"
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
"If you're hurting, I want to know. If you're scared, I want to know." Her voice was trembling now. "That's what it means to be friends, right?"
Riku's gaze softened. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against hers.
"Okay," he whispered.
Aika's breath hitched.
Riku's mother smiled faintly. "It looks like I'm not needed here anymore."
Riku shot her a look. "Mom—"
"I'll give you two some space," she said with a knowing smile, and quietly left the room.
Riku's hand remained lightly over Aika's. His thumb brushed her knuckles, tentative.
Aika's eyes lowered.
"Are you really okay?"
"I'm… tired," Riku admitted. "But I'm okay now."
Aika's hand curled over his. "Good."
They sat in quiet stillness, the sound of the heart monitor filling the room.
After a long pause, Riku's hand curled more tightly around hers.
"Aika?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you… for staying."
Aika's heart squeezed painfully. She lowered her head until her forehead rested against their joined hands.
"Always," she whispered.