Ren beat the shit out of the thugs in the dark alley beside his apartment building. They had Lina cornered in their arms, groping her and touching her.
When Ren saw them, he snapped and beat their faces into pulp, while also getting stabbed into his fist with a knife.
And Now. `°=°
The morning sun is shining bright in the sky. Ren is lying on his bed, unconscious, his hand roughly bandaged.
Ren's eyes snap open, and before he can think, process what happened, a name erupts from his mouth, raw and sharp:
"Lina!"
His voice trembles with anger and confusion, echoing in the silent room. His body jerks upright as though pulled by some invisible string. But the sudden movement causes a sharp pain to ripple through him. The agony blooms, radiating from his chest, his hand to every muscle. He blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of where he is, why his hand is hurting so damn much.
For a second, he thinks he's still out there—still in that alley, still trapped in that terrible night.
But as his vision clears, the world around him begins to shift into focus.
He isn't in the dark alley. He's on his bed, bandaged and worn, his body a screaming reminder of something he can barely piece together. His hand... It's hurting like hell, a sharp, throbbing pain.
He tries to flex his fingers, and that only intensifies the agony.
What happened? What happened to those thugs? To Lina? His heart pounds faster, and panic begins to seep into his mind.
With a groan, Ren tries to stand, but his body protests, weak and exhausted from whatever battle he has been through. Still, the urgency pushes him. He grits his teeth and forces himself up, staggering slightly as he puts weight on his legs.
Every step is a struggle, but he drags himself to the door. His thoughts race, a chaotic jumble of anger, confusion, and fear. He needs to see her. To confirm if she is safe.
Stumbling into the hallway, Ren catches sight of her in the kitchen. Lina. She's moving about, unaware of his presence. She seems unharmed, at least physically.
Relief floods Ren, but it doesn't calm the storm inside. "Lina..." His voice comes out hoarse, raw with the weight of everything he's been holding back.
Lina turns, her eyes widening in surprise when she sees him standing behind her.
"Oh, you're awake!" Her face softens into a gentle smile. "How are y—"
She stops mid-sentence, her gaze locking onto Ren's face as a tear slips down his cheek, unbidden. He hadn't realized he was crying. She rushes to him, her expression shifting to concern as she reaches out to catch him.
"Ren! What happened? Is your body hurting again?" Her arms wrap around him, holding him steady as Ren's legs tremble.
Ren's lips part, but all he can manage is a whisper. "You're... safe." The words barely make it past his throat, but Lina hears them. A relieved smile blossoms across her face, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"Yes, Ren... you saved me." Her voice quivers, and she holds him tighter, as if afraid to let go. Her tears finally spill over, her face pressed against his shoulder.
For a few moments, they stand there, both shaking with emotions too deep to name. In that embrace, the world feels quiet and safe. The storm within Ren begins to settle, if only for a little while.
After what feels like an eternity, Lina pulls back, though her hands remain on his arms as if anchoring him. "You should rest more," she says softly, her voice still thick with emotion.
She guides him back to his room, her presence gentle yet firm as she helps him settle back onto the bed. "I'll make something for you to eat," she adds, leaving the room with a lingering glance, the door closing softly behind her.
Now Ren is alone, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The pain in his body is beginning to dull, but his mind is far from calm. "I'm glad she's... safe," he whispers to himself, his voice barely audible in the silence. But even as he says the words, a dark thought creeps in.
If I had been just a bit late... they could have... The image flashes in his mind, unbidden—the sight of her pinned against the wall, the thugs pressing in, their hands on her. His fists clench as the memory burns through him, rage bubbling up again. I remember their faces... they're going to pay for touching her.
His thoughts churn, unable to settle. As he lies there, fragments of that night flicker in and out of his mind—the thugs, Lina desperately covering herself, and something else. Something strange. There was a sensation, something raw and powerful that coursed through his body. It wasn't just telekinesis. No, It was more. It felt... unstoppable like he could bend reality itself to his will for that one moment. But what was it? How had he used it? He doesn't understand it, but the feeling still lingers, pulling at him.
His eyes drift to his hand, bandaged and throbbing with pain. The injury is severe, the kind that shouldn't heal easily. He tries to recall how it happened, but all he remembers is the overwhelming power that surged through him and the way it left him afterward, broken and spent.
What did I do? he wonders. His brow furrows as he looks at his bandaged fist. "It hurts... so much," he mutters, his voice thick with exhaustion and frustration.
He closes his eyes and tries to focus, desperate to find some way to ease the pain. His mind narrows in on it, but the throbbing and burning of his palm brings him back. It's all he can think about now, the single, overwhelming thought pushing aside everything else.
What can I do to stop it? His body tenses as the pain sharpens, but then... something changes. The pain... shifts, and It starts to itch. At first, it's subtle, but quickly it grows unbearable, spreading across his skin like wildfire.
Ren's eyes fly open, and he hurriedly begins to unwrap the bandage. His breath hitches as he watches in stunned disbelief. Beneath the bloodied wrappings, his skin feels warm, almost alive.
But what's even more surprising is that slowly, the wound is knitting itself together, the edges closing in on one another. "What... the hell?" Ren's voice shakes as he watches the wound close, the torn flesh mending itself as though being pulled by some unseen force.
His palm itches fiercely as the last of the wound seals shut, leaving only smooth skin behind. He flexes his fingers but the pain is gone, replaced by a strange warmth that lingers in his hand. His breath comes in short, shallow bursts as he stares at his palm. "It... healed?"
His mind races with questions. Is this also my... power? Did I do this? His thoughts spiral as the implications sink in. Does that mean I have more powers than I thought? Not just telekinesis... but healing, too?
He is staring at his hands, bewildered, as if expecting them to reveal something more. His fingers curl slowly into fists, and he feels the power humming beneath his skin, like something waiting to be unleashed. What else can I do? The thought is intoxicating. If he has the power to heal, then what else is hidden inside him, waiting to be discovered?
For a long moment, he lies there in silence, his mind buzzing with the possibilities. How far does this go?
But before he can dive deeper into his thoughts, the door creaks open. Lina steps into the room, carrying a plate of food. Ren's heart skips a beat, and in a moment of panic, he shoves his healed hand under the blanket, hiding it from view.
He doesn't want her to know—at least not yet. He isn't sure what this new ability means and the last thing he wants is to worry her or invite more questions he can't answer.
Lina walks over to the bed, her face softer than usual, her usual coldness replaced with something... warmer. Ren notices the change immediately. She looks at him differently now—there's no more of the guarded expression, no more of the distance she usually keeps. It's like a part of her has melted, and it makes Ren feel strangely... uneasy.
She sits beside him and helps him sit up, adjusting the pillow behind his back with careful hands. "Here, eat thus," she says quietly, handing him the plate.
Ren takes the plate, his eyes lingering on her. "Are you... feeling alright now, Lina?" he asks, his voice cautious.
Lina looks at him, her lips curving into a soft smile, a far cry from her usual stoic demeanor. "Yes," she replies, her voice gentle. "Thanks to you."
The way she speaks to him now—is different. There's something in her voice, a layer of emotion he hasn't heard before. It's as if the walls she'd kept up between them have started to crumble. After what happened last night, something between them has shifted. Ren can see it in the way she looks at him, the concern that flickers in her eyes when they meet him. It's unnerving, but at the same time... comforting.
He starts eating slowly, but the air between them grows thick with unspoken words. As he chews, the memory of last night, the intensity of his anger when he saw Lina in danger, flashes in his mind. His hands grip the spoon tighter, but he says nothing. The silence stretches on, and when he dares to glance at Lina, he can see something similar passing over her face—like she's remembering too.
Her fingers tighten around her knees, but she remains silent as well, her gaze fixed on the floor. It's clear that what Ren said in that moment of fury is still echoing in her mind. The anger, the raw emotion he had unleashed for her sake—it had left a mark on both of them. But neither of them seems ready to address it, not yet.
After what feels like an eternity, Lina finally stands, breaking the tense silence. She takes the empty plate from Ren's hands, her movements slow, almost reluctant. "You should rest today," she says, her voice a little strained, like she's holding back something she wants to say out loud.
Ren watches her for a moment, feeling the weight of the unsaid things between them. He wants to ask her, wants to know what she's thinking, but instead, he just nods. "Okay... thanks for the food," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
She gives him one last glance, her eyes lingering on him longer than usual, before she turns and walks out of the room. The door clicks softly behind her, leaving Ren alone once more, his hand still hidden beneath the blanket, his mind swimming with unanswered questions.