Moonlight washes over the night sky, spilling its pale glow across the city below. Beneath its light, a modern, colorful metropolis stretches as far as the eye can see, neon lights pulsing like fallen stars scattered across the earth.

  Like a silent guardian, a solitary amber-colored tower rises at the center of the urban ocean, the air around it carrying a calm that is difficult to describe.

  It is the year 2080, in Tokyo.

  The lights flicker once more. Then one of them—coming from a white building—begins to stand out among the rest.

  On its rooftop, two figures break the stillness of the night wind.

  One stands with his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the moon and the city seem to meet. The other leans against the railing, smoking a cigarette with apparent ease. After a long drag, the latter is the one who breaks the silence.

  “You still haven’t told him, have you?”

  A shadow hides his face, but his hoarse, aged voice gives him away. He slips the lighter into his pocket and waits.

  “No… I don’t know how to tell him,” the other replies.

  His voice sounds heavy, burdened with hesitation.

  He is a tall young man, his wavy black hair swaying gently in the night breeze. His eyes remain fixed on the city, as if searching for answers among the distant lights. His sharp, dark-brown eyes carry a melancholy he cannot hide.

  Both wear white coats, stethoscopes resting around their necks—a constant reminder of who they are… and what they carry.

  The older man exhales slowly before speaking again.

  “If you don’t tell him, you’ll only make things worse.”

  “I know…”

  The cigarette’s ember glows once more. The man turns his head, studying him carefully.

  “If you need help, you can tell me.”

  The young man shakes his head slowly.

  “Doctor… the envelopes with the results…” His voice falters. “I haven’t been able to look at them.”

  The man sighs and crushes the cigarette against the metal railing.

  “You were my student,” he says calmly. “I know you’ve already seen them.”

  The young man closes his eyes for a moment.

  “I’ll ask you just one thing, Professor…” he murmurs, gathering his strength. “I want an honest answer.”

  Silence settles over the rooftop once more.

  “How much time does he have left…?”

  Even the night wind seems to stop.

  “Ryujin,” the man finally says, his voice lowering, “one month.”

  A brief pause follows.

  “Maybe a little more.”

  Ryujin clenches his fists.

  “I understand.”

  The professor steps closer and places a hand on his shoulder.

  “Go get some rest, son,” he says, tired but firm. “Take a few days off. I’ll handle things here.”

  Caught off guard, Ryujin lowers his gaze.

  “Thank you… Professor.”

  The wind blows between them again, carrying away the words neither dares to say.

  The older doctor walks away in silence. Ryujin remains there for a few seconds longer, staring at the city as if trying to engrave the image into his memory. Then he turns without a word.

  The metal door closes behind him with a dull sound.

  As he walks through the hospital corridors, a cold white light envelops him. The echo of his footsteps blends with the steady hum of machines and the distant murmurs of the night staff.

  He walks slowly until he stops in front of a particular door. He exhales softly, then leans toward a reader. After a brief beep, the door slides open automatically.

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  He steps inside.

  “Hey, Yoshida.”

  The room is dim. The smell of disinfectant lingers in the air, mixed with a heavy silence broken only by the mechanical rhythm of a machine.

  A young boy lies motionless on the bed, his resemblance to Ryujin unmistakable. His fragile body rests beneath white sheets, tubes and cables moving in rhythm with his breathing.

  At first, he appears awake, staring at the ceiling.

  “Ryujin…” he answers, his voice tired.

  The young doctor approaches the bed.

  The boy’s face is pale, dark circles beneath eyes the same shade of brown as his brother’s. His hair falls loosely across his forehead.

  He looks at Ryujin with restrained irritation.

  “Stop making that face.”

  “Oh… sorry. Work’s just been stressful lately.”

  He pauses.

  “But the supervisor gave me a few days off. So I’ll be able to stay with you more.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Huh?”

  “I don’t want you spending your days off here with me.”

  “But—”

  “Besides, I’m fine with Kiyomi-san. She’s been taking me to school, so you don’t have to.”

  “School?”

  Ryujin frowns slightly, something stirring in his memory.

  “Yoshida… you’re still planning to go in your condition?”

  The boy turns his head slightly, staring back at the ceiling.

  “You think I shouldn’t?”

  Ryujin hesitates before answering.

  “You’ve gotten worse. As a doctor, I can’t recommend pushing yourself.”

  Silence fills the room, heavy and suffocating.

  “Ryujin…” Yoshida whispers, his voice trembling. “If you’re going to say it, just say it.”

  Ryujin tenses, the truth catching in his throat.

  Yoshida bites his lip, frustration clear on his face.

  “You know, don’t you?”

  Ryujin lowers his gaze, fighting back tears.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Yoshida continues softly. “You’ve never been good at hiding things.”

  A brief pause.

  “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

  Ryujin looks up, forcing calm into his voice.

  “That’s nonsense. You’re not a doctor.”

  “You’ll recover. Believe me.”

  He forces a small smile.

  “And honestly… who in their right mind would want to study in your condition?”

  “Ryujin!”

  Yoshida’s voice shakes with anger.

  “I’ve been crippled my whole life, and now something’s killing me too!”

  “Don’t expect me to spend my last days lying in this bed while I slowly die!”

  Tears well in Ryujin’s eyes. He says nothing.

  “Why…?” Yoshida continues, his voice breaking.

  Before Ryujin can answer, the door opens.

  A young nurse steps inside, her appearance gentle, her uniform immaculate.

  “I’m sorry, Kato-san,” she says softly. “I couldn’t help overhearing.”

  Both brothers look at her in surprise.

  “Kiyomi…” Ryujin murmurs under his breath.

  She meets his gaze.

  “I apologize. I know this is a family matter, but… perhaps this conversation would be easier if everyone calmed down first.”

  Her tone is gentle, careful not to overstep.

  Then she turns to Yoshida.

  “And you too, Yoshida-kun. Your brother is worried about you.”

  Both avert their eyes, embarrassed.

  Ryujin exhales deeply, rubbing his chin.

  “Yoshida… let me think about it.”

  “How about we talk again tomorrow, when we’re calmer?”

  Kiyomi steps closer and gently brushes Yoshida’s hair aside.

  “Is that alright with you, Yoshida-kun?” she asks kindly.

  “Y-Yeah… I don’t mind,” he answers, slightly flustered.

  “Oh? You’re blushing,” she teases with a soft laugh.

  Ryujin suppresses a chuckle.

  “If I could move, I’d push your hand away,” Yoshida mutters, turning redder.

  “Hahaha… I guess you’re at that age,” Ryujin says, laughing.

  “Ryujin!” Yoshida protests while Kiyomi laughs freely.

  The brief moment of warmth dispels the tension left behind by the argument.

  Then the nurse suddenly remembers something.

  “Oh! Kato-sensei!”

  Ryujin looks up.

  “I almost forgot. We have an emergency.”

  “An emergency?”

  “Yes. A girl was just brought into the ER, and they need you to see her,” Kiyomi explains. “I know the Chief gave you time off, but this case requires you.”

  Ryujin nods and turns back to his brother.

  “I understand. Yoshida, is it alright if we talk tomorrow?”

  “Go. Don’t worry about me,” Yoshida replies calmly.

  Ryujin faces the nurse again.

  “Kiyomi-san, please take care of him.”

  “Of course. He’s in good hands.”

  Ryujin leaves quickly through the door.

  “Well… he’s gone,” she says after a moment.

  For a while, Kiyomi chats cheerfully with the lonely boy. Despite his reserved nature, Yoshida doesn’t seem uncomfortable around her. On the contrary, her presence comforts him.

  Eventually, she prepares to leave.

  “Well then, Yoshida-kun. Everything’s in order. I need to get back to work.”

  “Thank you, Kiyomi-san,” he says with a faint smile.

  Just before leaving, she hesitates and turns back.

  “Oh… before I go. Do you still need my help getting to school?”

  Yoshida meets her curious, innocent gaze. After a moment, he speaks honestly.

  “Yes, Kiyomi-san.”

  “…Even in your condition?”

  She waits silently.

  “You know… I was born with paralysis. I’ve always depended on my brother. I don’t really know how to live on my own… and I’ve never had friends to talk to.”

  Kiyomi tightens her grip on the clipboard she’s holding.

  “I know I don’t have much time left,” Yoshida continues calmly. “That’s why I want to go. Even just once. I want to see a little of the world before I die.”

  She swallows hard.

  “Yoshida-kun…” she whispers. “I’ll support whatever you decide.”

  She smiles warmly.

  “And you can think of me as your friend. You don’t have to be alone.”

  “Thank you, Kiyomi-san.”

  As she opens the door to leave, Yoshida speaks again.

  “You know… my brother became a doctor because of me.”

  Kiyomi stops.

  “He always dreamed of curing my illness. But life’s cruel… and he’s realized some things just can’t be changed.”

  She listens quietly.

  “He’s been a good brother,” Yoshida says softly. “I hope someone helps him get through what’s coming.”

  Kiyomi blushes slightly, understanding the implication.

  “Huh…?”

  “People like me are good observers, Kiyomi-san,” Yoshida says with a faint smile.

  “J-jajaja! Yoshida-kun, you’re funny!” she laughs nervously. “I should get back to work. See you later!”

  She stumbles slightly as she exits.

  “Adiós— I mean, goodbye,” she laughs at herself.

  “Bye,” Yoshida replies.

  The door closes, leaving him alone once more.

  “I may have gone too far…” he murmurs.

  Silence returns, heavy and melancholic.

  Yoshida stares at the ceiling for a long moment before whispering:

  “God… or gods… if you really exist… give me a chance to live again.”

  He closes his eyes.

  “If I had another chance… I’d live it with everything I have. Please… I don’t deserve this.”

  A slow sigh escapes his lips.

  “What a miserable life…”

  Little by little, exhaustion overtakes him, and Yoshida falls asleep.