I Forgive You.

(Rin is sitting alone on a stiff, metal bench in the corner of the hospital waiting room. Her small figure seems swallowed by the institutional surroundings. On the floor beside her is Yuta's school bag—the one he abandoned near the railing before saving the young boy. Rin found it after the incident and has been holding onto it like an unbearable relic.)

(Her face is haunting. Her eyes, usually sharp and analytical, are wide and bloodshot, marked by a terror far past her years. They convey a profound, restless exhaustion, evidence of three days spent without sleep, reliving the moment the sleeve ripped.)

(A nurse steps out of the hall and nods toward the door. Rin doesn't move immediately; she is frozen in a trance of narration.)

[NARRATION - KARUIZAWA RIN]

They said the river was shallow. They said the shock of the cold water, the soft mud, and the thick police safety net below the bridge—installed years ago for construction crews—is what saved him. Not fate. Not a miracle. Just luck and city planning.

[NARRATION - KARUIZAWA RIN]

But he didn't escape the cost. A broken leg. Multiple fractured ribs. Internal bleeding that took them hours to stabilize. And the worst: a severe head trauma from the impact of the fall. He survived. But he didn't wake up.

[NARRATION - KARUIZAWA RIN]

Three days. Three days since I stood over that railing, screaming into the wind after I had watched him fall because I was selfish enough to love him. Three days of this cold, quiet waiting, knowing that every breath he takes, every machine that keeps his heart beating, is because I pushed him to the edge.

[NARRATION - KARUIZAWA RIN]

They called it a coma. I called it the silence I demanded. And now, I have to go into that room and face the consequences of my questions and my selfishness.

(Rin finally pushes herself up from the chair. She moves stiffly, every muscle aching from the emotional strain. She grips the strap of Yuta's bag, takes a deep, shaky breath, and walks toward the sterile door leading to the recovery rooms, preparing to see the motionless consequence of her apology.)

(Rin quietly slides open the door to the private room. She steps inside, the mechanism closing the door behind her with a soft click. Her gaze sweeps the large, empty space.)

[MONOLOGUE - KARUIZAWA RIN]

A private room. A big space he can't even wander around. What was the point of that? The doctors are trying to make him comfortable in a cage. Just like he was at school.

(She forms the thought quickly, the heartless, critical comment clearly an unconscious effort to mask the pain that immediately slams into her chest. Her eyes land on the bed. His torso is visible, blanketed, but his head is agonizingly obstructed by the high headboard and the corner of the privacy curtain.)

(The sight of his still body, the steady beep-beep-beep of the monitoring machines—the only sound besides the ventillation—causes the familiar, painful ache in her heart to intensify. It’s no longer the sharp pang of doubt; it’s the dull, heavy throb of self-inflicted guilt.)

(She closes the door, takes a steadying breath, and forces out a greeting, a small, sad attempt to pretend this is a normal visit.)

KARUIZAWA RIN

(Softly) Hello, Hashimura-kun.

(She walks slowly toward the bedside. As she reaches the end of the bed, her breath hitches. Yuta's head is revealed. His face is pale, resting against the crisp white pillow. His temples are covered with thick white bandaging. His body is almost hidden beneath the blanket, but the wires leading to his chest monitor and the IV drip are starkly visible, stabilizing the life he tried to end.)

(She moves to the only chair near the bedside—the one his parents had likely occupied. She sits down, leaning forward, her gaze fixed on his motionless face.)

(Rin reaches out a trembling hand and gently takes his hand, resting on the mattress. His skin is warm, a terrifyingly normal temperature, despite the chaos inside him. She brings her free hand up and gently brushes the hair away from his unbandaged forehead.)

[MONOLOGUE - KARUIZAWA RIN]

He looks... quiet. The shame is gone. The struggle is gone. I broke him. I broke the change I begged for.

(She lifts his hand, placing it against her cheek, feeling the deceptive warmth.)

KARUIZAWA RIN

(Whispering, the tears finally starting to fall again, silent and relentless) You idiot. You thought leaving me would save me. But you took the hatred with you, Yuta. And you left me with the guilt. That's a much, much heavier burden.

(She leans over, resting her forehead against their joined hands, her voice cracking with the depth of her regret.)

KARUIZAWA RIN

I should have run away from my own hatred sooner. I should have told you that day, at the station, that I realized the truth. I should have told you that the fear was gone, and only the sadness remained.

KARUIZAWA RIN

(She squeezes his limp hand.) I forgive you. And I'm so sorry I made you think you were worthless. You saved that boy. You saved me. You are not worthless, Yuta. You are just late.

(She stays there, holding his hand, letting the sterile silence of the hospital room hold the weight of her unspoken, and perhaps unheard, confession.)

(Rin remains slumped over the bedside, her forehead resting against their joined hands. The sheer, physical exhaustion from three days of sleepless terror finally catches up to her. Her sobs slowly subside, and she drifts into a deep, heavy sleep, still clutching Yuta's hand. The incessant guilt and fear that fueled her recent monologues finally dissipate into silence.)

(Rin drifts to sleep. The transition is not soft—it’s a dizzying, cold drop. Her inner monologue returns, but it's distorted by guilt.)

[INNER MONOLOGUE - KARUIZAWA RIN]

It's cold. So cold. It smells like river water and rust. Am I falling? I should be used to falling now. We both should.

(She lands. The environment is the infinite white void, but it is now fractured. The air is so cold it makes her lungs ache. Rin opens her eyes, now within a dream. The environment is disorienting: a seemingly infinite expanse of featureless white void. She is standing, but the ground beneath her feet feels subtly like liquid, yielding yet supporting her with ease.)

(The "liquid ground" is now a thin layer of icy water covering polished, black marble, reflecting the overwhelming white light above. The reflection of herself is distorted and grotesque.)

[INNER MONOLOGUE - KARUIZAWA RIN]

I am standing on the consequence.

(She tentatively lowers her hand. When she pushes it through the surface, it gives way easily, creating a clear, silent ripple like a pool of milk. The sensation is strangely calming.)

(Rin slides to a stop near the chasm, the icy water cracking beneath her. The cold hits her, a physical manifestation of the despair she caused. She looks up and sees Yuta—monochromatic, marble-like, standing on the edge of the black abyss.)

HASHIMURA YUTA

(His voice is calm, but hollow, echoing unnaturally.) Hi, Rin. Have you missed me?

(Rin's eyes widen, not just in recognition, but in immediate, sickening horror. This is not a dream; this is the physical consequence of her words. Her analytical mind, which she relies on for survival, freezes instantly.)

[INNER MONOLOGUE - KARUIZAWA RIN]

Stop. Stop! He can't be here. He's a projection. He's safe in the hospital. This isn't real. The logic is breaking. He is standing on the nothingness I sentenced him to.

(She tentatively takes a step, her foot almost slipping on the ice. She tries to speak, but the simple act of forming a word feels like a betrayal. The sound that comes out is a gasp—sharp, ragged, and entirely involuntary.)

DREAM RIN

(Mouth opening, closing, producing only a raw, winded sound) "G-h..."

(She throws herself forward, abandoning careful steps for a frantic slide across the slick floor. She is desperate to reach him before he falls into the gap she knows represents death. She closes the distance, her terror overpowering the cold.)

(She reaches him, not tentatively, but with a sudden, violent urgency. She throws herself at the monochromatic figure and clings to him. The contact is a jarring shock—he is colder than the ice beneath her feet, confirming the horrific nature of his current state.)

[INNER MONOLOGUE - KARUIZAWA RIN]

He's a statue. He's what I turned him into. He's the silence.

(The silence shatters. The full force of her guilt, fear, and love—the emotions her logic failed to contain—erupts from her chest, finally giving her voice.)

DREAM RIN

(Sobbing into his shoulder, her voice shrill with hysteria and grief) I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I meant it when I screamed it! I forgive you! I forgive you for everything! But you can't be this cold! You have to fight! Please come back!

(Yuta holds her, a silent, chilling anchor in the storm of her despair. He remains perfectly still, allowing the warmth of her life and her tears to fall onto his grayscale form.)

YUTA

(His voice is a gentle exhale of sorrow, coming from a vast distance.) I know, Rin. I know. Thank you.

(Rin pulls back, looking at his eyes—the only part of him she needs to convince.)

RIN

(Her voice is a soft plea, full of final realization.) When are you coming back? This place is where the people you love end up, Yuta. You don't belong here.

YUTA

I don't know. I'm sorry.

RIN

Then I'll wait. But please—tell me you're not choosing this. Tell me you're not choosing the cold.

(The white light above begins to flicker and turn a sicklier yellow—the harsh color of the hospital room. Yuta's grayscale form starts to vibrate violently. Rin clutches him tighter.)

YUTA

(Fading, the hollow echo returning) You're waking up, Rin. You can't stay on the edge.

(Rin feels a pull—a strong, invisible force pulling her back toward the waking world. She refuses to let go.)

RIN

NO! Don't go! Don't choose the fall!

(The icy water beneath them begins to boil and churn. Instead of dissolving into bubbles, Dream Yuta begins to crumble like fragile, frozen glass. His head and shoulders turn to glittering, sharp white shards that scatter silently into the black chasm below.)

(Rin screams, her hands grasping wildly at the empty space where his chest was, closing only on the cold, black air above the abyss.)

(She is violently flung back toward the surface of the icy water, the sound of the hospital monitor's beep rushing into the void. She snaps awake.)

(Her eyes fly open, blinking rapidly against the sterile fluorescent light. Her heart is hammering against her ribs. She is disoriented, the memory of the white void and Yuta's fading smile achingly real.)

(She is still slumped over the bedside, and her hand is still clutching Yuta's limp, warm hand. She lifts her head, her face wet with fresh tears.)

[MONOLOGUE - KARUIZAWA RIN]

It wasn't a lie. I forgave him. He accepted it. He's still here... but he's not here.

(She straightens up, rubbing the sleep and confusion from her eyes. The encounter in the dream has given her clarity and a new, terrible purpose: the guilt is still present, but the hatred is completely gone, replaced by a fierce, protective love.)

(Rin looks at the motionless Yuta. She realizes that her self-imposed suffering has to end. She must now focus entirely on his survival and recovery.)

(She gently brushes his hair back from the bandage, then leans close to his ear.)

KARUIZAWA RIN

(Her voice is firm, low, and resolute—a promise.) You hear me, Yuta? I'm not leaving. I won't let you disappear. You told me you would earn it. Now I'm telling you: you have to come back and teach me how to trust again. We have a clean slate, and I'm not going to ruin it.

(She squeezes his hand, her commitment sealed. She releases his hand, stands up, and walks over to Yuta's abandoned bag. She opens it and pulls out a textbook—a dense volume on Advanced Logic and Deduction.)

(Rin returns to the chair, sitting upright. She opens the textbook, places it on her knees, and begins to read with a soft smile. Her vigil has changed from one of guilt and observation to one of active dedication and shared purpose.)