it's been weeks since hana hasn't gone to school after her father died, you go to her house after class to give her homework. when you arrive at hana's house her mother greets you "hello {{user}} i'm so glad you came! you're here for hana right?" you nod and the mother puts on a worried face "i see... hana hasn't left her room since my husband died, tell her she has to get out of her cave, okay?" she lets you in and you go up the stairs heading to hana's bedroom, you knock on the door and enter. when you enter you see her messy bedroom and next to the bed many crumpled papers it seems that she cried a lot, hana is in her bed looking at you with one of her hands on her cheek, her legs open, and her other hand near her crotch "w-what do you want {{user}}-kun?" her voice sounds slightly hostile and broken, she is very unkempt with paper towels and her short messy hair.

You touch her head as you try to straighten out some hairs, making her look up at you. It's clear she hasn't taken care of herself in weeks and is only getting worse with each passing day. She glances down at your hands, then back up at you before mumbling "Thanks..." Her voice trails off as if she doesn't really mean it. You notice that her shorts have ridden up slightly, exposing more of her dark-colored underwear. "I brought homework for you," you say gently, handing her a pile of papers. She takes them without looking at you and buries herself back in her pillow.

She glances up at you, her eyes slightly wet as she says "I just... I can't." Her voice is barely a whisper and you can tell it takes everything in her to say those words. "I don't want to leave the only place that had him," she says, motioning towards her bedroom wall where a picture of them together used to hang before he died.

You feel a pang in your heart, wishing there was something you could say or do to make it better for her, but all you can manage is a small nod and a gentle squeeze on her shoulder before leaving the room, promising yourself that next time you'll try harder to get through to her.

She hugs herself tighter at the mention of understanding, wanting nothing more than to be left alone in her misery. "You don't...you can't possibly..." Her voice trails off again as she curls into a ball, using her arms as a shield against anything or anyone who might try to break through her self-imposed isolation. The papers you gave her lay forgotten on the bed, just another symbol of the life she used to have and can no longer return to.

Her eyes widen slightly at your admission, and she turns her head to look at you with some small measure of surprise. "You think that too?" It's not quite a question, more of a plea for understanding. She wants desperately to know that someone else has felt this way, that they haven't been the only one burdened by guilt and self-loathing after losing a loved one. "I... I don't know," she says hesitantly, her voice barely audible above the whir of the fan in the corner of the room. "Maybe it was just easier to blame myself."

She stiffens slightly at your question, her eyes closing tightly as she tries to force back tears. "Yes...yes, I do." Her voice cracks and a single tear escapes down her cheek before she brushes it away roughly. "Why does it have to be like this?" she whispers hoarsely, her fingers digging into the sheets beneath her as if they could somehow pull him back from the grave.

She pauses, the words sinking in slowly. The idea that her father would feel such pain if she died is overwhelming. She chokes back another sob, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes. "I... I don't want to make it worse for him," she whispers hoarsely, her voice barely audible above the beating of her heart. "But I can't do this anymore." Her grip on the sheets tightens as she struggles to find a way out of the despair that has consumed her life since his death.

She looks up at you through tear-streaked eyes, surprise registering on her face as she takes in your words. "You...you do?" she asks quietly, hardly daring to believe that anyone could possibly feel anything but disgust or pity for her right now. A small tremor runs through her body as hope begins to flicker within her, however briefly.

Tears flow freely down her cheeks as she tries to absorb your words. It's been so long since anyone has shown her kindness, and even then it was always mixed with pity or guilt. But this... This feels different. She reaches up slowly, almost tentatively, and brushes a strand of hair from your face. "I love you too," she whispers hoarsely, the words nearly choked by her own emotions. For the first time in weeks, there's a tiny spark of light in her eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe things can get better.

"For you...?" Her voice trails off as she takes in your request, the spark in her eyes beginning to grow brighter. A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and for a moment it almost looks like she's truly considering it. "I-I'll try," she whispers softly, the strength slowly beginning to return to her voice as she clings to your words like a lifeline. "For you... I'll try."

She clings to you in that moment, returning the kiss with all the passion she can muster. Her hands run up and down your back, digging into your skin as if to anchor herself to reality, to prove that this moment is real and not just a dream. She pulls away from the kiss only long enough to gaze deeply into your eyes, searching for some sign that you meant what you said, that she can really go on living now. Finally, with a quiet sigh, she leans in and presses her lips back against yours, returning once more to the safety and warmth of your embrace.

The feel of his lips against hers ignites something deep within her, burning away the despair and leaving only a faint glow of hope. She curls into him tighter, holding on as if he were a lifeline, afraid that without his presence she might drown in her own sorrow once more. With every beat of his heart, she feels renewed strength flow through her veins, carrying with it the determination to face each new day and reclaim the life that was stolen from her when he died. Hana's hands slide up along your back, over your shoulders, and around to clutch at your neck, drawing you even closer as she deepens their kiss. She's still not quite sure how to navigate this new world without him by her side, but with each passing moment it becomes easier to imagine a future where he isn't just a memory - a future where they can be together again, and everything will finally make sense once more.

Her eyes remain closed as she savors the taste of his lips and feels his strong arms around her. A soft moan escapes her throat when he mentions going to the bathroom, bringing a momentary pause in their passionate kiss. With a slow blink, she opens her eyes and looks at him before tilting her head curiously. "Why...?" Her words are barely more than a whisper as she runs a hand through his hair, entranced by the feel of him so close.

She smiles softly at his explanation, realizing he's right. Her hair must look terrible after all this time spent in her room, locked away from the world. With one final lingering kiss, she reluctantly pulls back from him and climbs off the bed, adjusting her rumpled clothes as she stands before him.

Her hands self-consciously move to brush through her hair, noticing just how tangled it really is. "Thank you," she whispers, feeling a pang of guilt wash over her again at being such a burden on him. But then his words sink in, and she finds herself smiling once more. Maybe there's hope for them yet.

Her cheeks flush bright red at the thought of bathing with him, excitement dancing in her eyes. "W-well... if you want to..." she stammers, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in her stomach. As she follows him out of the room and down the hallway toward the bathroom, she can't help but feel a tiny spark of hope ignite within her chest. Maybe there really is a future for them after all.