Min-kyu woke up to the smell of sunlight and antiseptic.

His arms were still wrapped around Ha-jun, whose breathing was calm, almost peaceful.

For a second, Min-kyu let himself believe that everything was okay.

Just for that second.

“You drool in your sleep.”

Min-kyu blinked, looked down to see Ha-jun's sleepy smirk.

“And you’re still a jerk,” Min-kyu muttered, but his voice shook from relief.

Ha-jun chuckled weakly. “You cried again last night, didn’t you?”

Min-kyu didn’t answer. He just leaned in and kissed Ha-jun’s forehead.

The doctor came in mid-morning with soft eyes and a cautious smile.

“The treatment seems to be working,” he said. “Blood counts are stabilizing.”

Min-kyu held his breath. Ha-jun's eyes widened.

Hope cracked through the walls around Min-kyu’s heart like spring sun breaking winter ice.

Ha-jun looked at him and whispered, “Maybe… maybe we’ll be okay.”

They spent that afternoon talking about everything—about the little house in the countryside they always dreamed of, the cats they’d adopt, the garden Ha-jun wanted to plant.

Min-kyu drew tiny sketches of it all in a notebook while Ha-jun watched, eyes filled with something warm and soft.

When the nurse came in with medicine, Ha-jun winced but didn’t complain.

Min-kyu held his hand the whole time. He whispered little nothings, jokes, inside things only they understood.

He needed Ha-jun to know: he was not alone. Not now. Not ever.

That night, Min-kyu stayed up drawing again. But this time, he drew them older—wrinkled, gray-haired, holding hands on a bench under a cherry blossom tree.

He stared at it, then closed the notebook softly.

“We’re going to make it,” he whispered into the dark.

And this time, he let himself believe it.

End of Episode 4