Chapter 52: The Sharp Edge of Despair
Ren's eyes drifted from Hana's panicked face to the pink floral bag on her shoulders. Several pieces of clothing were sticking out from the zipper, haphazardly stuffed in. The realization hit him like a physical blow.
"Hana... those are your clothes," Ren's voice was hollow. "Why are you—"
Before he could finish, Hana's fear turned into a frantic, explosive energy. She lunged forward, shoving Ren with all her strength. In his exhausted, dizzy state, Ren stumbled back, losing his footing. Hana didn't hesitate; she bolted through the open door and sprinted down the hallway.
"Hana! Stop!" Ren roared, but his voice was raspy and weak.
He forced his heavy legs to move, stumbling out into the cold night air. The street was bathed in the ghostly blue glow of the streetlamps. He saw her small figure running in the distance, her footsteps echoing against the cobblestones. Ren pushed through the spinning sensation in his head, his vision blurring, but he kept his eyes locked on her.
Hana turned a corner into a narrow, trash-strewn alley and dove behind a large brick wall, trying to suppress her heavy breathing. She was shaking violently, her mind a chaotic mess of "No one loves me" and "I need to go."
"Hana... I know you're here," Ren's voice drifted into the alley.
He walked slowly, using the wall for support. His "Ina" instincts were trying to wake up, trying to tell him there was a threat, but he suppressed them. This was his sister. There was no threat here. Or so he thought.
He spotted her crouching behind a large, rusted dustbin. As he stepped closer, his heart ached. "Hana, please. Just talk to me. Whatever happened, we can fix it. Just come home."
Hana scrambled backward as he approached, her back hitting the cold brick wall. Her hand searched the ground blindly until her fingers closed around something sharp and cold—a jagged, triangular shard of broken glass.
She held it out in front of her with both hands, the edges glinting dangerously. "Stay back!" she shrieked, her voice high and distorted by tears. "Don't come any closer, Ren! Just let me go!"
"Hana, put that down," Ren said, his voice dropping to a soothing tone, but he didn't stop moving. He was only a few feet away now. "You're going to hurt yourself. Give me the glass."
"I told you to stay away!"
Ren, thinking he could disarm her quickly like he did with the thugs, surged forward with a burst of speed. But his body betrayed him. The dizziness from his lack of sleep and the previous day's injuries caused his timing to falter.
As he reached for her hand, Hana swung the glass shard in a blind, terrified arc.
SHLICK.
The sound was sickeningly quiet. The jagged glass tore through Ren's thin shirt and sank deep into his abdomen. Ren's hand instinctively went to Hana's wrist, but it was too late.
Time seemed to freeze. Ren stood perfectly still, his breath hitching. He looked down to see the glass buried in his stomach, blood already beginning to soak the fabric of his clothes. A smaller cut had opened on Hana's own palm where she had gripped the glass too tightly, her blood mingling with his.
Hana's eyes went wide, the pupils shrinking in horror. The adrenaline vanished, replaced by a soul-crushing realization of what she had just done. She let go of the glass and scrambled back, her hands over her mouth.
"R-Ren...?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Oh God... what did I... Ren, I didn't mean... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry!"
Ren stood there, the world spinning faster now. He didn't fall. He just looked at her, his red, exhausted eyes filled not with anger, but with an overwhelming, silent sadness.