The night was colder than usual, and the warmth of my apartment felt thin, almost fragile, as if it could shatter at any moment.
My body ached in ways I wasn’t used to.
It wasn’t just the exhaustion that came from work or the relentless chases that had become routine; it was something deeper, something gnawing at the edges of my strength.
I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, trying to shake off the persistent headache that had been clinging to me all day.
The case files I had brought home lay scattered across the coffee table, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at them.
My hands were trembling slightly, and even the act of breathing felt heavier than usual.
Something wasn’t right.
I’d been feeling off for the past few days, ignoring the signs, brushing it off as just stress or fatigue.
But now, sitting in the stillness of my apartment, there was no denying it—my body was shutting down.
I sighed, leaning back into the couch, pressing my palm to my forehead in a futile attempt to ease the pounding in my head.
I needed to rest, to take a break.
As much as I hated the idea of stepping away from work, there was no way I could keep going like this.
Reaching for my phone, I scrolled through my contacts until I found Sasaki’s number.
It rang twice before he answered, his voice gruff, as if he had just been woken up.
“Keisuke? What’s up?”
“I need to take a few days off, Taichi-san. I’m not feeling well.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear him shifting in his seat, probably trying to make sense of my words.
I had never taken time off before, not in the time I’d been with the department.
For me to ask now must have seemed strange to him.
“You sick?”
He asked, his tone softening with concern.
“Yeah, something like that”
I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I just need a few days. I’ll be back soon.”
“Take as much time as you need”
Sasaki said after a moment.
“Don’t push yourself, Keisuke. You’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks. If you’re sick, you need to rest.”
I muttered my thanks, hanging up before he could ask any more questions.
I didn’t have the energy to explain.
All I wanted was to crawl into bed and forget about the world for a while.
Maybe, if I slept long enough, this feeling would go away.
Maybe I’d wake up and feel like myself again.
I dragged myself into the bedroom, barely managing to kick off my shoes before collapsing onto the bed.
My body sank into the mattress, every muscle aching in protest.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
As soon as I closed my eyes, the weight of exhaustion pulled me under.
I woke up to the sound of knocking.
At first, it felt like part of the dream I was in—an insistent, distant thudding that wouldn’t stop.
But as I slowly surfaced from the fog of sleep, I realized it was real.
Someone was at the door.
I groaned, forcing myself to sit up, my head spinning.
The pounding in my skull was worse now, and my throat felt raw and scratchy.
I hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten.
For a moment, I considered ignoring the knocking, hoping whoever it was would go away.
But the knocking grew louder, more urgent.
“Keisuke, open up! It’s Hana.”
Her voice cut through the haze, and I felt a flicker of something—relief, maybe, or worry.
I wasn’t sure. But I forced myself out of bed, my legs shaky as I stumbled to the door.
When I opened it, Hana stood there, her face a mix of concern and frustration.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
She demanded, pushing past me into the apartment.
“You didn’t show up for work, and when I called, you didn’t answer. I had to hear from Sasaki that you’re sick.”
I closed the door behind her, leaning against it for support.
“I’m fine, Hana. Just needed a few days to rest.”
She turned to face me, her eyes narrowing.
“You don’t look fine. You look like death warmed over.”
I tried to muster a smirk, but it came out as more of a grimace.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Her expression softened as she stepped closer, placing a hand on my forehead.
Her touch was cool, and I found myself leaning into it, too tired to protest.
“Keisuke, you’re burning up. You need to be in bed.”
“I’m fine”
I muttered, though even I didn’t believe it.
The room was spinning, and I felt like I could collapse at any moment.
Without another word, Hana took my arm, guiding me back to the bedroom.
I didn’t have the strength to argue.
She helped me lie down, pulling the blanket up over me.
I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the steady sound of her breathing instead of the pounding in my head.
“I’ll make you some tea”
She said quietly, disappearing into the kitchen.
I didn’t have the energy to respond.
The sound of her moving around the apartment, the clinking of dishes and the quiet hum of the kettle, was oddly comforting.
It was strange, having someone here, taking care of me.
I wasn’t used to it.
I had always been the one to handle things on my own, the one to push through no matter how bad things got.
But now, as I lay there, too weak to even sit up, I realized how much I needed this—how much I needed her.
A few minutes later, Hana returned with a mug of tea, sitting on the edge of the bed as she handed it to me.
I took a small sip, the warmth soothing my sore throat.
“Thanks”
I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
She smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at me.
“You don’t have to thank me, Keisuke. You’re always the one taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you for once.”
I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself acknowledge how much she meant to me.
She wasn’t just my partner.
She was more than that.
Over the month we’d worked together, she had become a constant in my life, someone I could rely on without question.
And now, as she sat there, looking at me with those kind, worried eyes, I realized just how much I had been holding back.
“Hana…”
I began, my voice trailing off.
I wasn’t sure what I was trying to say, but she seemed to understand.
She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, her touch gentle.
“You need to rest”
She said softly.
“We can talk later. Right now, just focus on getting better.”
I nodded, too exhausted to argue.
As I lay back against the pillows, I felt her hand linger on mine for a moment before she stood up, moving quietly around the room.
She was tidying up, straightening the cluttered mess I hadn’t bothered to deal with.
It was such a simple act, but it meant more to me than I could put into words.
For the next few hours, Hana stayed by my side, making sure I was comfortable, bringing me water, and keeping the room quiet and calm.
She didn’t leave, didn’t complain.
She just stayed.
It was more than I had expected, and far more than I deserved.
At some point, I must have drifted off again, because when I woke up, the room was bathed in the soft light of the setting sun.
Hana was sitting in the chair by the window, reading through one of the case files I had left out.
She looked up when she saw I was awake, her lips curving into a small smile.
“Feeling any better?”
“A little”
I admitted, though my voice was still hoarse.
“Thanks for staying.”
She shrugged, standing up and walking over to the bed.
“I wasn’t going to leave you here alone.”
I looked at her, my chest tightening with an emotion I wasn’t sure I could name.
It wasn’t just gratitude.
It was something deeper, something that had been growing between us for a long time but that I had been too afraid to acknowledge.
“Hana, I—”
She shook her head, her smile soft but firm.
"You don’t have to say anything, Keisuke. Just rest. We’ll figure everything else out later.”
But even as she spoke, there was something unspoken between us.
A connection that had been building over the weeks, something neither of us had been willing to confront.
But now, in the quiet of my apartment, with the world outside seeming so far away, I knew it was only a matter of time before we would have to face it.
As she sat back down beside me, her hand resting lightly on mine, I closed my eyes, letting myself be enveloped by the warmth of her presence.