Kai's Vigil – The Waiting Room's Weight
Hospital corridor—sterile walls, flickering fluorescent lights humming overhead. The air smells of antiseptic and coffee gone cold.
Kai paces the narrow corridor, boots scuffing against the linoleum floor. His fingers run through disheveled hair as he glances at the closed double doors leading to the ICU. His jacket is tossed over a chair; the shirt beneath is stained with blood—hers. Nami.
He slumps into a seat, elbows on knees, hands rubbing his face. "C'mon... it's been hours." His voice is a strained whisper. Every second stretches like an eternity. His leg bounces—a nervous habit he can't shake. Nurses pass by, their faces unreadable. No answers. Just waiting.
Kai's phone buzzes. Emjay. He stares at the screen but lets it ring out. What could he say? "She's hanging on by a thread"? No words would suffice.
The doors finally swing open. A doctor steps out—mid-forties, glasses sliding down his nose. Kai bolts up. "How is she? Nami—tell me something. Anything."
The doctor's gaze is heavy. "She's stable... but unconscious. There was significant trauma—blood loss, shock. We managed to stop the bleeding, but..." He pauses, reluctant.
Kai's chest tightens. "But what? Spit it out!"
A sigh. "She's fallen into a coma. It's her brain's way of protecting itself. We don't know when—or if—she'll wake up. I'm sorry."
The words hit like a sledgehammer. Kai stumbles back, hand against the wall. "No... she—no, that's not—no way." His throat burns, emotions clawing their way up. He swallows them down. Not now. Not here.
"Can I see her?" he manages.
The doctor nods. "Room 314. Take your time."
Kai doesn't wait. His boots echo down the hallway—each step heavier than the last.
Beside Her Bed – Echoes in Silence
ICU room—machines beep in rhythmic patterns. White sheets, too white. The room is cold, clinical. Nami lies motionless, a tangle of wires and tubes surrounding her.
Kai stops at the doorway, breath catching. God... Her face is pale, lips tinged with blue. This isn't her—not the firecracker he knows. He pulls up a chair, the legs scraping the floor. He sits. And stares.
Minutes pass. Maybe hours. Time loses meaning.
"Hey..." His voice cracks. He chuckles bitterly. "Hey? That's what I open with? Real smooth, Kai." He scrubs a hand down his face. "Look, I—I don't know how to do this, okay? You're supposed to be yelling at me, calling me an idiot for worrying. Not... lying there like—" His words falter. His jaw clenches. Hold it together.
He leans forward, fingers brushing hers. Cold. Too cold.
"Remember that bar downtown? Said you'd beat me in darts—" a hollow laugh—"You cheated. I let you win. Yeah, I said it." His thumb rubs circles against her hand. "Wake up and yell at me for lying. Just... wake up, dammit."
Silence answers. Only machines reply.
His head drops onto the mattress beside her arm. "Don't do this to me, Nami. Not you." Words blur with the tears he refuses to admit are there. Sleep claims him—fitful, haunted.
Return to the Team – Bonds Fray
Two days later. He stands at the hospital entrance, glancing back. I'll visit tomorrow. Empty promise or truth—he doesn't know.
Kai returns, weariness etched into every line of his face. The room quiets when he enters. No jokes, no quips—just tension thick enough to choke on.
Emjay nods toward a chair. "Sit down, Kai. How's Nami?"
Kai sinks into the seat, rubbing his face. "Coma... They don't know if she's gonna wake up." His voice is a hollow echo of itself.
Yano's knuckles whiten as she grips her cup. Her eyes glisten, but she blinks the tears back. " First Kazuki... and now Nami?" Her voice cracks. "How many people are we gonna see suffer? How many more are we supposed to watch fall?"
Leon sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's war... but damn if it doesn't feel like we're losing more than we're winning."
Kai's gaze drops. "I sat there for hours... talking to her like an idiot, hoping she'd just—open her eyes or call me dumb or something. But nothing. Just that damn beeping."
Kazuki's muffled shouts echo faintly down the hall. The team collectively flinches. Yano covers her face. "We're falling apart..."
Emjay stands. "We pull it together. That's what they'd want. Kazuki's fighting his own demons, and Nami... she's a fighter. She's not gone. Not yet."
Kai nods but doesn't look convinced. "Yeah... just feels like we're all running on fumes."
Enemy Lines – Goodbye to War
Lester's office—dim, cluttered. Smell of old paper and stronger whiskey. Evena stands opposite him—arms crossed, gaze resolute.
"You're serious about this?" Lester's voice is low, but tension coils beneath it.
Evena nods. "I'm done. This war—it's killing me. Not just out there—in here." Her hand rests over her heart.
Lester runs a hand through thinning hair. "After everything? You'd walk away? You think it's that simple?"
"No. It's not simple. But it's necessary." Her eyes soften. "You've been more than a commander. You've been... family. Like a father I never had. That's why this is hard. But I can't keep fighting your battles. Not when I don't believe in them anymore."
His jaw tightens. "Damn it, Evena... I do see you as my daughter. You think I'd risk you in those missions otherwise? You're my blood in every way that matters. Don't—don't do this. Stay. We'll figure something out."
Her throat works, blinking back tears. "That's what makes this so hard, Lester. You cared when no one else did. But caring doesn't mean I can keep killing for a cause I've lost faith in. I need... peace. Or whatever's left of it."
He turns away, shoulders slumping. "You walk out that door... it's goodbye. Not just to the war—to us."
Silence stretches. Finally, she whispers, "Goodbye, Lester." A hesitant step forward. She hugs him. A heartbeat. Two. He hugs back—tight, desperate.
And then she's gone.
He sits alone. I let her go.
Later, in his office, he opens a drawer. Finds an envelope—his name in her handwriting. Fingers tremble as he unfolds it.
Lester,
Words fail me, but I'll try. You saved me from a life I didn't want. Gave me purpose when I was lost. And somewhere along the line, you became family. Thank you—for the lessons, the laughter, even the fights.
But I need to find who I am beyond this war. That doesn't erase what you mean to me. I'll always carry that. You were the best father I never knew I needed. Take care of yourself.
Always,
Evena.
His vision blurs. "Damn you, kid..." He chuckles wetly, tears slipping free. "You really were the best damn thing to come out of this mess."
He reads it again. And again. Talking to the paper as if she can hear. "Be safe out there. Or I'll hunt you down myself."
Alone, he cradles the letter like a lifeline.