—Naoaki's POV—
I didn't think it was possible to break more than I already had.
But that night, when Ren didn't show up for school, when his seat sat quietly untouched, when the usual weight of his stare was absent from the back of my neck—something cracked.
I stared at the clock more than the board.
Watched the rain collect at the windows.
Counted the seconds since I last heard his voice.
And then, I ran.
I found him on the rooftop.
Soaked. Silent. Still.
He didn't flinch when I slid open the door.
"Skipping class again?" I tried to joke, but my voice shook.
Ren turned slowly. His eyes were red. No umbrella. No jacket.
He had been crying. The stoic, unreadable boy who never let anything in.
"I wasn't going to come back," he admitted, voice raw.
My stomach dropped.
"Why?" My throat tightened. "Why would you just disappear again?"
His smile was tired. "Because this always ends the same. I hold you. I lose you. You forget me. Or you die. And I'm left remembering."
He stepped forward, slowly, like his bones were made of grief.
"I promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again. I thought if I stayed away from you, I could break the cycle."
"But you didn't," I whispered. "You still came back."
"I always do."
I didn't move when he reached me.
Didn't pull away when he brushed my wet hair behind my ear.
"You're the only thing I've ever believed in, Naoaki. Even when you hated me. Even when you didn't know me. Even when you died in my arms screaming my name."
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
"But I remember now," I said.
His hand stilled.
"I remember the boy by the river. The soldier. The painter. The one who gave up heaven just to find me again."
I met his eyes, breathing shallow.
"I remember you."
Ren's lips trembled. "Then tell me—if this ends again… if you're ripped from me one more time… will it have been worth it?"
I reached out and placed my palm on his chest.
Felt the heart that had carried the weight of lifetimes.
"Yes," I whispered. "Because you came back. And so did I."
He closed his eyes. Just once. Just long enough for a tear to fall.
And then he whispered—
"Then don't leave me again."
In that storm, with a lifetime of pain behind us and maybe more ahead, we held each other like we'd waited centuries.
And maybe we had.