CHAPTER 0: PROLOGUE
The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the hospital room, each sound carving itself into John's memory. Above them, the fluorescent light hummed faintly, casting a sterile glow across the walls. The air carried the sharp bite of antiseptic, softened only by a stale floral scent that clung to the curtains.
Alex, his brother, lay propped against pillows, pale but smiling. His black hair was messy, falling just short of his shoulders. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and his beard was rough and unkempt, though if you looked closely you could glimpse the handsome face that had once been there. Beside him, his favorite jacket lay folded neatly on the chair, a reminder of better days.
"Come here, kid," Alex said, his voice rough but warm. He reached out and squeezed John's shoulder with surprising strength. "You've got to stop looking like the world's ending. I'm not gone yet."
John moved closer without thinking, the chair scraping softly against the floor. He let Alex's hand rest on his shoulder, feeling the tremor in his brother's fingers as they slowly relaxed.
John tried to smile, but it didn't quite stick. "Yeah… you're right. I just… I don't know what I'd do without you."
Alex snorted. "Oh please. You're a grown ass man. Stop acting like I'm about to ascend into the afterlife." He shifted, the pillow sighing beneath him. "It's going to take a lot more than this to kill me."
John exhaled, watching the shallow rise and fall of Alex's chest. "That's not very reassuring, considering you already look like you're halfway there." He chuckled softly. "Now that I take a closer look… you could actually pass for a zombie."
Alex smiled, his eyes flicking away for a beat before returning. "Wow. Straight to insults. Real comforting."
Beside John, Lisa sat with silky black hair draped over one shoulder. Her hazel eyes caught the light as she tilted her head, brows knitting in concern. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and curled her fingers around John's hand. "He's not wrong, though. You really need a makeover."
Alex's smile faltered, then twisted into mock agony. "Wow. From him, I expect nothing less. But you too, Lisa?" He clutched his chest with exaggerated drama. "My heart. Oh, you have killed me."
John rolled his eyes. "Okay, now you're just being dramatic."
"I will be as dramatic as I want," Alex shot back, his voice bright and loud. "How dare you insult this divine face?" He glanced at Lisa. "And especially you. I expect respect from my much younger sister-in-law."
Lisa leaned closer to John, her smile playful. "Sorry, but my baby comes first."
John's smirk was small and private, a flicker of warmth and pride. "Well, you heard her. Honestly, it might help if you moved on and got a girl of your own. I don't know why you're so hung up on that one girl."
Alex went quiet for a beat, eyes dropping to the blanket before lifting again with a faint smile. "Well… forget it. You wouldn't get it anyway."
He waved a hand lazily. "Well, it was nice talking to you all, but I'm bored now. You can go. Meanwhile, I'll admire my divine face."
John shook his head. "Narcissistic much."
Alex ignored the jab and turned toward Lisa, his expression softening in a way that made the room feel smaller. He leaned forward slightly, his voice gentler. "But on a more serious note, on the chance I close my eyes forever—take care of this crybaby for me. He's a handful. Stubborn. Annoying."
His gaze shifted to John, steady and unflinching. "But he's my brother, and other than you and me, he's got no one. So, if anything happens… I'll have to rely on you."
Lisa nodded immediately. She squeezed John's hand once, then let her fingers rest lightly along his wrist. "I will try my best."
John's face tightened, a shadow crossing it. He swallowed hard, jaw working. Alex watched him, eyes soft. "Oh, don't start," Alex said.
"This isn't goodbye. It's just… precautions." He tried a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "I'll make it. Obviously."
John nodded, the motion small and forced, as if agreeing to a promise he didn't believe. "Yeah. You're too stubborn to die like this."
Lisa slid her hand fully into his, thumb pressing gently against the pulse at his wrist. "You won't be alone," she whispered. "I will always be with you."
Alex let out a short, amused sound and looked between them, the corner of his mouth lifting. "See? You've got someone who won't let you drown. That's more than most people get."
The smile faded quickly. He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial hush. "Okay, one last thing. John, come closer. Lisa, this is a secret, so close your ears."
John leaned in, the chair creaking beneath him. Alex's gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening. "John, promise me. If by some miracle I die… listen to me clearly now… promise me you will delete my search history."
John blinked, the tension in his shoulders loosening into something like relief. He let out a short laugh that shook at the edges. "Ah, grow up, you idiot. You almost gave me a heart attack there."
Alex held onto the serious look. "I need you to promise."
John's face folded into mock solemnity before cracking into a grin. "Of course… not. I'll make sure the shame follows you to the afterlife."
Alex's expression shifted to mock outrage, then softened into something warmer. "Wow. Betrayed by my own flesh and blood. Unbelievable. I practically raised you. I even changed your diapers, and this is how you repay me?"
Lisa, who had been half-listening, pushed a loose curl behind her ear and stepped closer, curiosity tugging at her features. "What are you two whispering about?"
Alex cleared his throat, a small, embarrassed sound. "Nothing important."
John's grin came quick and bright. "Oh, he was just asking me—"
Alex flushed, color rising to his cheeks, making him look less fragile and more alive. "Hey, you little—"
Lisa laughed, the sound soft and contained. John's smirk answered hers, and for a single breath the machines, the light, and the antiseptic smell all faded into the background.
The monitor's beeps kept time with their breathing. John kept his hand where Lisa held it; Alex watched them both with a look that was equal parts pride and worry. They sat like that for a moment—hands linked, small noises filling the gaps.
***
A month had passed since that visit. Time moved forward in quiet increments—hospital check-in's, recovery, the slow return of strength. What had once felt fragile began to settle into something steadier, though the weight of those days lingered in John's chest like a shadow that refused to fade.
The quiet of the morning shattered with the sharp buzz of an alarm. John lay sprawled across the bed, face buried in the pillow, sheets tangled around him like the aftermath of a restless night. He cracked his eyes open halfway, groaning as he reached out and slapped the alarm into silence.
"Ah… I want to sleep," he muttered, voice muffled against the pillow. He rolled his head to the side, ready to sink back into sleep—until another alarm blared from across the room. Louder. More insistent. Impossible to ignore.
John let out a long, defeated sigh. His hand dragged across his face, fingers pressing into his eyes as if he could rub the fatigue away. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, shoulders heavy, movements sluggish. Pale morning light slipped through the blinds, striping the room in muted gold. Dust motes drifted lazily in the beams, catching the air like fragments of a dream.
For a moment he sat hunched on the edge of the bed, caught between the comfort of rest and the inevitability of another day. Then, with reluctant resolve, he swung his legs down, the chill of the floor biting at his bare feet.
He didn't bother with slippers as he pushed himself off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. The bedroom door was already open; he slipped through without glancing around, moving straight toward the bathroom.
The shower was quick, just enough to wash the weight of sleep away. He grabbed the towel from the hanger, patted himself dry and wrapped it around his waist.
The mirror caught him on the way out. A young man stared back—black hair clinging in damp strands, framing a face sharpened by the morning light. His eyes, a clear sky-blue, caught the glow and threw it back, bright and restless even in the haze of sleep. He lifted a hand, slicked his hair back from his forehead, and let a smirk curl across his mouth.
"Damn. I look good."
The thought lingered longer than it should have. Another face slipped into the mirror—Alex, grinning the way only he could, smug and self-satisfied, the kind of narcissist who knew he was good-looking and never let anyone forget it. John's smirk faltered, the resemblance was too close for comfort.
'Focus, John. Don't let that cringe lord corrupt you.'
He shook his head, a short laugh escaping as he leaned over the sink. The bristles of the toothbrush scraped rhythmically, the sound filling the quiet as he tried to wash away the thought along with the taste of sleep.
Back in the bedroom, he pulled open the wardrobe. Normally he'd settle for something simple. Not today. Today was different. Alex was finally cleared to leave the hospital. 'Took that idiot long enough,' he thought, tugging on his best clothes.
Minutes later, he stepped out of the house, locked the door behind him, and called for a ride.
He stood by the roadside, phone in hand, waiting for it to arrive. The morning air was cool, and the city already vibrated with life: cars passing by with impatient honks, footsteps echoing along the pavement, voices murmuring in the distance.
Meanwhile, a small figure drifted closer from the edge of the sidewalk.
At first, John barely noticed her. She looked no older than eight or nine, dressed in worn, oversized clothes that hung loosely from her thin frame. Her hair was messy, her face smudged with dirt, and her eyes darted around nervously, never settling in one place for long.
A moment later, John felt a light tug at his pocket. He reacted instantly, his hand shooting down and catching a tiny wrist before it could slip away.
The girl froze.
She looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes, and for a moment, it seemed like she might burst into tears.
John stared at her for a second, then slowly loosened his grip and let her go.
"Hey," he said gently, crouching down a little so he wouldn't tower over her. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
The girl took a small step back, her body trembling, ready to run at any second.
"What's your name?" John asked.
She hesitated, her fingers curling tightly into the fabric of her shirt.
"…M-Mina," she whispered.
John studied her for a moment. She was skinny, small, and covered in grime, her ragged appearance making her background painfully obvious. And the fear in her eyes made one thing clear, this wasn't the first time she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.
He reached into his pocket, and the girl flinched instinctively.
But instead of pulling out his phone to call the police, he took out a few bills and held them toward her.
Mina blinked in confusion, staring at the money as if it wasn't real.
"Next time," John said softly, "just ask. I'm sure there are plenty of kind people who'd be willing to help."
The girl looked at him, then at the money, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and caution.
Slowly, she reached out and took it with trembling fingers.
"Th-thank you…" she whispered.
John gave her a small smile. "Go get something to eat."
That was all it took.
Mina nodded quickly, then turned and ran, disappearing into the crowd almost as fast as she had appeared.
John watched her go for a moment before exhaling quietly. A car pulled up to the curb. His ride had arrived.
He straightened, opened the door, and slid into the car with a smile he couldn't quite suppress, already imagining the look on Alex's face when he walked through the hospital door.
For the first time in months, everything finally felt like it was going to be okay.