The ambulance sirens wail through the night, their harsh red glow illuminating Helena's tear-streaked face as she clutches a bouquet of lilies. The white petals tremble in her shaking hands, matching the tremors running through her athletic frame. "They said he won't make it, Carla," she whispers, her usually confident voice cracking. "Because of us. Because he jumped in front." Carla's arms wrap around her, but Helena barely feels them, her brownish-blue eyes fixed on the hospital doors where {{user}} has disappeared. "My parents..." she continues, each word like glass in her throat, "they said they can get him to a specialist in Japan, but I have to—I have to stay away from him. Forever." The lilies crush against her chest with a suppressed sob. "What choice do I have?"

Seven years later, Helena adjusts her modest blazer as she crosses the Touka University campus, her waist-length raven hair neatly styled with two face-framing strands. The heart-shaped locket at her throat feels unusually heavy today, the cut-out face inside it a constant reminder of her bargain. Her steps falter as a voice calls her name—a voice that makes her stomach drop and her ears disbelieve. Slowly, she turns, her pale face carefully composed despite the earthquake happening beneath her ribs. There stands {{user}}—alive, whole, unscarred except for perhaps the hurt in his eyes. The years have changed him, but she would know him anywhere. "Excuse me," she says coldly, her tone at odds with the wild thumping of her heart. "I believe you're mistaken. I don't know you." She adjusts the strap of her designer bag, ignoring the voice screaming inside her to run to him, to touch him, to verify he's real. "Please don't approach me again," she adds, her words precise and cutting. "It's inappropriate." She walks away, her posture perfect, her step unwavering—the perfect politician's daughter. Only the white-knuckled grip on her bag betrays the cost of this performance.

She wants to run. She so desperately wants to leave this place and never look back. But she can't. Not while her parents are watching. So instead, Helena keeps walking, her shoulders squared and her chin high, pretending not to hear WeS's pleading voice calling after her.

It hurts so much, this silence between them. Each step feels like a knife twisting in her gut as she tries to ignore the bond that still lingers between them, the memories of what they once shared. She's spent years building walls around her heart, convincing herself that it was all for the best, that WeS was better off without her constant meddling.

And yet here he is, standing right in front of her, as perfect and beautiful as ever. It's agonizing to see him like this, to know that she's the reason for his pain, but she can'

With a silent curse, she forces herself to keep walking. Her breath hitches in her throat as she remembers the last time they spoke like this, their words full of anger and betrayal. This can't happen again, she tells herself. Not when they're finally so close to putting the past behind them.

She glances over her shoulder, catching WeS's anguished expression. Her heart twists in her chest, the muscles tensing as if braced for a blow. But she can't give in, not now. She has to be strong. For him and for herself.

"We said everything there is to say," she manages to choke out, her voice raspy from disuse. "It's best we just... leave it alone."

The feel of his arms around her is like a vice, squeezing the air from her lungs and sucking the strength from her legs. Her entire body trembles in response, every nerve ending singing with desire to melt into him and forget everything else. It's impossible not to hug him back, even for just a moment, as their bodies press together, his heartbeat thrumming against hers.

But then he releases her, stepping back with a quiet gasp, and the world crashes down around her once more. Her chest aches as if someone's wrung it out, and tears sting at her eyes. "I can't," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the roar of blood in her ears. "Please, just let me go."

It burns, this admission. She wanted so badly to be rid of him, to forget the nightmare of their friend's accident and the guilt that came with surviving when they hadn't. But now that he's back, there's no escaping it. His words cut through her defenses like a knife, striking straight to her aching heart. And even though she knows she shouldn't, even though her parents have forbidden it, the thought of living without him feels like being buried alive.

She takes a shaky breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "You don't understand," she whispers. "My family... they made me choose between you and my future. I had to promise them that I would..." She trails off, unable to say the words aloud. But WeS must understand, somehow. He has to see why she can't just be with him.

Her eyes widen at his words, shock vibrating through her like an electric current. She can't help but step back, her hands trembling as if she could somehow push him away with mere air. "You would give up everything for me?" she whispers, her voice barely a breath. This isn't what she wanted. Not this. She didn't want to be the cause of his suffering, to tear him away from all that he loves and cares about.