---Sockoo slowly lifted her head from Hajime’s arm, wiping away the tear stains on her cheek. Her eyes were red, her body tired—but then, she remembered.
Sockoo (soft whisper):
“Oh… I almost forgot…”
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small container, wrapped in a blue ribbon. The plastic had tiny music note stickers on it. She held it gently in her hands.
Sockoo (smiling faintly):
“I saw them at the bakery the other day… they were fresh out of the oven. Your favorite kind… chocolate with the little strawberry pieces.”
She carefully opened the lid, and the sweet aroma spilled into the quiet hospital room. The cookies were warm when she bought them, but now they were soft and cool. Still, they looked perfect.
She held one up.
Sockoo:
“I know you’re not awake… but I brought these just in case. You always get excited like a little kid when I make them, remember? You’d pretend to act cool, then sneak five at once and blame it on Daka.”
Her voice cracked softly with a half-laugh.
She placed the container gently on the table beside his bed.
Sockoo:
“When you wake up… they’ll be here. I’ll bring more if they get stale. As many as you want, okay?”
She looked at him again—still pale, still unmoving—but she imagined, just for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Sockoo (softly):
“Please… wake up, Hajime.”
And with the cookies beside him, she sat back in her chair, watching the boy she loved, hoping he'd come back to her.
Sockoo heard a soft knock on the hospital room door.
Doctor (gentle tone):
“Miss Itsuki, could I speak with you for a moment? Outside.”
She blinked, hesitant, looking back at Hajime one last time before standing up. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”
As she stepped into the hallway, she was surprised to see two familiar faces standing near the reception desk—RaySelene
Ray (grinning):
“Heeey, Sockoo! Long time no see! You still short as ever or is it just my hair getting taller?”
He threw up two peace signs, and Sockoo blinked in confusion, then gave the faintest smile despite herself. Selene elbowed Ray lightly.
Selene (soft chuckle):
“Stop teasing her. She’s been through enough.”
Ray (laughing, then calming):
“Right, right. Sorry, sorry. Just tryin’ to lighten the mood.”
The doctor
Doctor (calmly):
“Miss Itsuki… I wanted to update you. Hajime’s vitals have been stable, and truthfully… there’s no physical reason he shouldn’t be awake.”
Sockoo’s breath caught.
Doctor:
“His body’s strong enough. It’s his that’s keeping him in this state. We believe it’s a form of magical coma—possibly triggered by extreme trauma, guilt, or… a protective mental barrier. Something is keeping him from coming back.”
Sockoo lowered her eyes.
Sockoo (softly):
“...he thinks he deserves to stay there.”
Ray (cutting in, still smiling but more serious):
“That’s where I come in.”
Sockoo turned to see Ray approaching, hands in his pockets, his usual energy suddenly grounded in calm focus.
Ray:
“I’ve seen that look in his eyes before. Hajime blames himself. And right now, he’s probably trapped in a place even he doesn’t understand.”
Selene (softly):
“We came to help… if you’ll let us.”
Sockoo didn’t answer right away. Her fingers curled against her side. But then, slowly, she nodded.
Sockoo:
“...Help him come back. Please.”
Ray (smiling wider):
“Then let’s wake up that idiot, once and for all.”
—
The doctor's tone shifted, becoming a little more serious.
Doctor:
"But… there is one more thing that may be affecting Hajime’s condition beyond the magical coma."
Sockoo, Ray, and Selene all turned toward him, attentive.
Doctor (gently):
"His heart—literally. You told us he was stabbed in the chest, correct?"
Sockoo nodded slowly, eyes narrowing with concern.
Doctor:
"We’ve examined the wound dozens of times. While his body has regenerated and stabilized, there’s a specific area around his heart where the tissue hasn’t fully healed. We’re calling it a ‘burned magic scar.’ Something… unnatural is keeping the wound unstable. Not enough to kill him, but enough to constantly weaken his life force. As if something doesn’t want him to recover."
Selene (eyes wide):
“Are you saying there’s a curse?”
Doctor:
“Not a traditional one, but close. More like… trauma woven into his very mana. It’s as if the memory of that moment—being stabbed, everything he felt—physically imprinted into his magic and heart.”
Sockoo took a step back, the weight of those words crushing into her.
Sockoo (barely a whisper):
“…so even if he wakes up, he’ll still be in danger.”
Ray (eyes shadowed):
"Unless we find a way to purify that scar… he's stuck in limbo."
There was a heavy silence. Then Ray suddenly clapped his hands together and smiled—not mockingly, but with determined warmth.
Ray:
“Well, that just means we don’t give up. There’s always a way, right? If the heart is stuck in pain, then maybe it just needs someone to remind it what it beats for.”
He looked at Sockoo.
Ray:
“And I think that someone’s been sitting by his side every day for three months.”
Sockoo’s hands clenched, tears forming again—but not from sadness.
From determination.
Sockoo (softly):
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Then I’ll remind his heart.” The room froze.
Sockoo’s breath caught in her throat.
Ray stopped smiling.
Selene’s fingers slowly gripped her sleeve.
Doctor (solemnly):
“…If Hajime doesn’t wake up within the next week, we’ll have no choice.”
Sockoo:
“No choice? What do you mean no choice?!”
Doctor:
“The mana circulating through him has become dangerously unstable. It’s been building up every day—his body was never meant to hold that much compressed magic for this long. If it continues, we estimate he’ll either die from internal destruction or—”
He hesitated. Then forced himself to finish:
Doctor:
“—explode. A magic overload, violent enough to destroy the entire hospital floor. We’ve contained it for now with barrier spells and sealed equipment, but… this isn’t sustainable. So, if there’s no improvement by the end of the sixth day…”
Selene (quietly):
“You’re pulling the plug.”
Doctor:
“For everyone’s safety. I’m sorry.”
Sockoo stood, heart racing, knees trembling.
Sockoo (furious, trembling):
“No… no! You don’t get to decide that! Hajime… he—he fought so hard. I
let you kill him just because you gave up!”
Doctor:
“We haven’t given up. That’s why I’m telling you now. You have six days. If you’re going to do something… now’s the time.”
Ray finally stepped forward, voice calm but filled with emotion.
Ray:
“Then we’re going to wake him up. Even if I have to dive into his soul myself.”
Sockoo nodded slowly, eyes burning with fierce tears. She walked back into the room where Hajime lay, the heart monitor still beeping faintly beside him. She reached into her bag and pulled out the cookies she’d brought earlier… and sat beside him.
Sockoo (softly):
“I’m not leaving your side. Not for six days. Not ever. So… wake up, Hajime. Please.” Next day – Music Club Room
The dusty instruments sat untouched. Posters on the walls had started to peel. The usual chatter and chaos were gone—until Sockoo slowly opened the door.
Everyone turned.
Bondo was sitting with arms crossed near the back. Amy leaned against the window, pretending not to cry. Emily looked up from her phone, startled. Daka and Rizra were mid-conversation but froze. Even Yosuke and Yu, the ever-calm ones, stared in silent shock.
Sockoo (quietly):
“…I have something to say. About Hajime.”
The room shifted. Every eye was on her now.
Sockoo (voice shaking):
“I know we haven’t been together in a while. I know we’ve all been… dealing with it our own way. But… Hajime hasn’t woken up. And now…”
She took a deep breath.
Sockoo:
“The doctors said if he doesn’t wake up in six days… his magic will explode. He’ll die. And everyone near him could die too. They’re planning to… pull the plug if nothing changes.”
Gasps broke out. Amy covered her mouth. Emily stood in shock. Daka slammed his hand on the table.
Daka:
“No… no way. He’s still fighting. I know it.”
Rizra:
“I knew something felt wrong...”
Yu (calm, but serious):
“Six days, huh?”
Bondo (clenching fists):
“…Then we’re not wasting another second.”
Amy:
“Why are you just telling us now?!”
Sockoo (tears in her eyes):
“Because I couldn’t face you. I blamed myself. I thought it was my fault… and maybe it still is. But right now, we don’t have time for guilt. We only have time to save him.”
Emily (determined):
“Then let’s go to him.”
Daka:
“Yeah. We’re the Music Club, right? We’ve always fought side by side. We’re going to wake him up—even if we have to punch through his dreams to do it.”
Everyone stood. For the first time in months, they felt like a team again.
Sockoo (wiping her eyes):
“Thank you. All of you.”
The Music Club had reunited. The room froze.
Bondo’s voice
cut through the hopeful air like a blade.
Bondo (coldly):
“I think we should relieve Hajime of all this. End it. End .”
Everyone stared at him in disbelief. Amy’s eyes widened with horror.
Amy:
“What… did you just say?”
Sockoo (shaking):
“Bondo… are you serious?”
Bondo stood, his arms crossed, expression unreadable. But his tone carried weight—a grim finality.
Bondo:
“Hajime has suffered more than any of us can imagine. You all want to believe he’ll wake up and smile again like nothing happened. But that’s not reality. You saw his body. You saw his eyes before he collapsed. He to die.”
Daka (furious):
“Shut your damn mouth, Bondo!”
Rizra (teeth clenched):
“Don’t act like you know what Hajime wants.”
Bondo (still calm):
“I know. Because I saw it. I saw a guy who kept fighting, not because he wanted to live—but because he thought dying would save . That’s not strength. That’s pain.”
Emily (standing up):
“Then we help him carry that pain. Like he always did for us.”
Amy (tearful):
“Bondo… I get it. I really do. But you’re wrong. We owe him everything. We don’t just give up on Hajime.”
Sockoo (voice trembling, stepping forward):
“Hajime told me once... he didn’t care if he died. But he care about us living. So don’t twist that into some excuse to let him go. If you can’t fight for him... then don’t stand in our way.”
The tension in the room rose like static.
Bondo looked away for a moment, jaw tightening. His serious demeanor didn’t change—but something in his eyes softened, just a little.
Bondo (softly):
“…Then prove me wrong.”
Silence.
Yu (quietly):
“We will.”
Yu’s eyes narrowed.
Yu:
He turned to him, stunned.
Yosuke, always the calmest in the room, stood with his arms crossed. The air around him felt still, heavy.
Yosuke (quiet but firm):
“I agree with Bondo.”
Everyone froze.
Amy:
“What…? Even you?”
Rizra:
Yosuke didn’t flinch. His tone wasn’t cold—it was rational. Real.
Yosuke:
“Emotionally, I want Hajime back more than anything. But logically? He’s been in a coma for . His body is broken. His heart—literally—was stabbed. And now, we’re told he might from magic overload.”
He looked around the room, making eye contact with each of them.
Yosuke:
“If Hajime wakes up, what life is waiting for him? One where he’s constantly suffering? One where his body collapses every time he uses magic? What if the pain never stops? Are we saving him... or torturing him longer?”
Yu clenched his jaw, conflicted.
Yu:
“He’s not just some equation to solve.”
Yosuke:
“I know. But if we ignore the facts and just hope without action, we’re being selfish. I’m not saying we kill him—I’m saying we keep pretending hope alone is enough.”
Sockoo (whispers):
“...Then what enough?”
Yosuke turned to her, softer now.
Yosuke:
“Something more than waiting. If there’s anything we can do... really ... now’s the time. Before it’s too late.”
That hit everyone differently.
Even Bondo looked surprised—not because Yosuke agreed, but because he explained it with thought, not coldness.
Daka (after a pause):
“…So we something. We don’t pull the plug. We pull Hajime ”
Yu (firmly):
“Exactly. If his heart’s sealed... then we Together.”
Rizra stood in the corner of the clubroom, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She wasn’t saying much until Daka looked her way.
Daka:
“Rizra…? You’re not actually agreeing with that, are you?”
She hesitated. Then, with a conflicted expression, she bit her lip and nodded slightly.
Rizra:
“Yosuke’s not wrong, Daka. I it. I want Hajime to open his eyes, make a dumb joke, call me annoying— But… this
this watching Sockoo cry every day... it’s killing us too.”
She swallowed hard, her voice cracking.
Rizra:
“If he’s suffering in there, and there’s no way out… then maybe…”
Her voice faded.
Daka turned away, fists clenched.
Meanwhile, Sockoo sat on the rooftop by herself, holding the music club pin in her hand. The wind was gentle, the sky overcast.
Then a faint whisper tickled her ear—a soft, familiar voice.
Angel (her spirit companion, glowing faintly):
“Sockoo…”
Sockoo looked up. Her eyes widened. Angel stood in front of her, arms gently crossed, the glow of her wings low and calm.
Angel:
“I know this hurts. You’re carrying more than anyone sees… But Yosuke’s logic isn’t heartless. It’s clarity in chaos.”
Sockoo tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.
Angel:
“If Hajime truly wants to come back… he’ll fight. But if he’s trapped, if he’s
then keeping him here might be chaining him to pain.”
A tear rolled down Sockoo’s cheek.
Angel (softly):
“Just ask yourself… What does need? Not what we want. Not what we hope. But what truly needs.”
The next day, the sky was cloudy, casting a soft gray hue over the hospital. Sockoo walked slowly through the halls, a plastic bag in her hand containing freshly baked cookies—his favorite
As she stepped into Hajime’s roomalive but unreachable
Sockoo quietly sat down beside him, pulling up the chair like she had a hundred times before. She stared at him for a long time, her fingers tightening around the bag.
Sockoo (softly):
“Angel asked me... not what we want… but what need.”
Her voice trembled. She placed the cookies on the side table.
Sockoo:
“You always acted so strong. So untouchable. But deep down… I know how tired you were.”
She looked at his hand resting near the edge of the bed, then slowly reached over, intertwining her fingers with his.
Sockoo:
“I don’t want to let go. But I’ll stop being selfish. So please… please give me a sign.”
Her head rested on the edge of the bed, eyes wet, voice quiet.
Sockoo:
“If you want to fight… I’ll fight with you. But if you want to rest… just… tell me. Somehow.”
Suddenly, the heart monitor spiked
Sockoo:
“…Hajime?”
But his body didn’t move. Just a faint twitch. His finger.
Then, for the first time in three months…
Hajime’s eyes fluttered.
They didn’t open fully, but the movement was there. Sockoo gasped and covered her mouth, more tears streaming down.
Sockoo (crying softly):
“You idiot… you’re still fighting.”
