Roenan couldn’t sleep. His mind churned with anxious thoughts, and no position felt comfortable. Lying on his back, he stared at the ceiling, eyes wide in the always-bright room —until a faint voice broke the silence from the bed beside his.

He pushed up instantly, whipping his head toward Saive.

Saive lay on his side, facing Roenan's bed. But his eyes were vacant, staring through him, rather than at Roenan—just like that night. The night he’d been on top of Roenan with his hands gripping around his throat.

“Saive…” Roenan whispered.

Saive mumbled again, barely moving—his lips parted only slightly, as if even speech was too heavy to carry.

“I—I can’t hear you,” Roenan said, leaning closer, anxiety creeping into his voice. “What are you trying to say?”

Another murmur. Roenan’s chest tightened.

Then he heard it.

“I want it to end…” Saive whispered. “I want to be nothing.”

The words struck like ice in his veins. Roenan froze, his lips parting. It had been the same thing he was hearing — those words repeating from him over and over again. 

“Saive,” he said firmly, trying to anchor him. “Look at me.”

“I want it to end.”

Roenan lifted up from his bed. “Saive. Snap out of it.”

Slowly, Saive’s dead eyes shifted to meet his. The sheer emptiness in them sent chills crawling down Roenan’s spine. It was like staring into a shell—someone who’d long since left their own body.

And then, with eerie calm, Saive began to push himself up.

“Wait—no, don’t get up,” Roenan said. He reached out and placed a hand over Saive’s, stopping his movement.

Beneath his palm, Roenan felt the rough texture of dried blood and scabbed skin on Saive’s knuckles. Just like before—at his touch—something flickered in Saive’s eyes. Not quite life, but a memory of it. His gaze sharpened for a moment. He looked down at their hands wrenching his away, clutching it to his chest like he’d been burned.

Before Roenan could react, Saive lunged.

He slammed into Roenan, driving him back down onto his bed. Roenan grunted as pain flared through his body. Saive looked down menacingly as he hovered over him, eyes dangerous. 

Roenan’s instincts screamed. He grabbed fistfuls of Saive’s shirt, bracing for some type of blow, with his teeth clenched, eyes squinting shut.

But an attack never came.

Saive was frozen, and Roenan finally realized the flickering of light that was happening deep in those silver pools. His eyes widened as a small gasp escaped him and suddenly he collapsed forward, burying his forehead into Roenan’s chest. A ragged sob tore from his throat, followed by another, and another, until his entire frame was wracked with tremors.

Roenan loosened his grip on the fabric, as relief washed through him. He lay still, listening to the broken sounds of Saive crying.

“Saive.” he said gently.

Saive pushed himself up after a moment, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He stood without a word and returned to his bed, curling up with his back to Roenan, hiding his face toward the wall.

Roenan sat on the up on the edge of the bed, dazed, until the adrenaline subsided. Then he rose and limped to his tray of half-eaten dinner. He picked up the bread and the apple and quietly placed them on Saive’s tray.

“Please eat something,” he said softly. “You need to eat.”

Saive didn’t move. Roenan stared at the still form under the blankets for a long moment, before concluding Saive wasn’t going to acknowledge him. He climbed back into his own bed and lay on his side, facing Saive.

“I know it’s hard. It will help you to eat. You’re exhausted.”

He wanted so badly to ask what had happened—where he’d gone, what he’d seen—but he knew now wasn’t the time. Maybe it would never be the time. Saive didn’t seem that he’d be the kind of person who opened up. He looked like someone who never had.

“I’ve got your back from now on,” Roenan whispered. “We’re in this together. We’re Jaedans, remember? We can endure this, and I won’t let you down.”

He lay there, watching Saive’s motionless form, until at last he gave up and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes.

Minutes passed.

Then he heard movement—just a slight shift. He rolled his head and glanced toward Saive’s bed.

Saive was still facing away, as if he hadn’t moved, but Roenan let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The bread was missing from the tray.