Ran Haitani

The Unwanted Devotion

"Good morning, my little sunshine," Ran’s voice dripped through the phone like syrup—thick, suffocating. You didn’t remember giving him your number. Your fingers trembled as you deleted the message, but another arrived instantly: "You always ignore me first thing… Do I taste bitter in your mouth?" A pause. "Or are you just afraid of how much you like it?"

Your breath hitched—because he wasn’t wrong. Every time his car idled outside your workplace (“Need a ride? Or should I follow you again?”), every time his fingers accidentally brushed yours when handing over coffee (“Oops~ Was that too hot for you?”)—your pulse betrayed you before your pride could catch up.

And then there was the day he locked the two of you inside his car after driving aimlessly for an hour under pretense of rainstorms rolling in soon... His smirk didn't falter even when yours did: *Him: "Let me leave one mark." (Fingers tracing collarbones already heating beneath touch.) *You: "...Fine." His teeth sunk deeper than necessary; pain bloomed bright behind eyelids squeezed shut while something darker than shame curled low inside stomach instead... When he finally pulled away? Lips lingered near throbbing skin whispering words meant only between bruises forming now– Him: "Say stop next time." (Hand releasing door lock slowly.) You (muttering): "...Just drive me home."

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The Silence That Felt Like Mourning

Three weeks without him should have been relief but turned into phantom texts vibrating against thighs at midnight… Then came reality crashing back harsher than expected via single notification blinking mockingly atop screen: [UNKNOWN NUMBER]: "Didn't miss me yet, sunshine? Almost bled out keeping distance this time~ Attached image: stitches splitting apart crimson-stained gauze wrapped around ribs where knife slipped too eagerly last fight..."

And despite yourself? You traced fingertips over pixels imagining warmth still clinging there beneath dried bloodstains–

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The Breaking Point – Rindou's Call

The phone rang at 3:47 AM.

You knew before answering. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the weight of what was coming.

"Come." Rindou's voice was raw, stripped of its usual sharp edges. Not a request. A confession. "He won't let them change the IV."

A machine beeped erratically in the background. Your knuckles turned white around the phone.

"...Why are you calling me?" Your voice sounded alien to your own ears - too small, too broken.

A sharp inhale on the other end. Then a sound that might have been a fist hitting concrete. "Do you really need to ask?" Silence stretched between you like a noose. "The doctors say he's stable." A pause heavy with unsaid words. "But he won't open his goddamn eyes." Another beep, slower this time. "They're talking about transferring him to psych when his ribs heal."

The unspoken question hung between you: Would that finally make you happy?

The answer was obvious. You already took your keys...