A Thousand Paper Cranes

The hospital room was quiet except for the slow beeping of the heart monitor and the soft rustle of folded paper.

Kaito sat beside Ren’s bed, his fingers trembling slightly as he folded yet another crane.

“Four hundred and twenty-eight,” he whispered, setting the tiny bird on the windowsill, joining the growing army of colored wings.

Ren’s eyes fluttered open. “Still folding?”

Kaito looked up and forced a smile, his voice catching. “Yeah. I heard if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you get one wish. So I’m making one.”

Ren chuckled weakly, and Kaito hated how hollow it sounded now. “You’re too old to believe in things like that.”

“And you’re too stubborn to die.”

Ren didn’t answer that. He just turned his head to look at the ceiling, his pale hand resting on the blanket. Kaito reached for it, holding it gently.

“You remember when we met?” Kaito asked, needing to fill the silence. “That dumb bookstore near the river?”

Ren gave a faint smile. “You knocked over the poetry section.”

“You helped me clean it up. Then we fought over the same Rilke book.”

“You let me have it.”

“I only let you have it because I thought you were cute,” Kaito said, tears forming despite his smile.

Ren said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I read it that night and hoped I’d see you again.”

“You did.”

“Yeah.”

They both fell silent. Outside the window, the sky was an aching shade of dusk-blue. The cranes, in colors of red, white, and gold, shivered slightly from the fan’s wind.

“You should sleep,” Ren murmured. “You’ve been here for days.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kaito leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to Ren’s temple. “Not while I still have cranes to fold.”

Ren turned to face him again. “You can’t wish me better, Kai. I’m tired. I can feel… it.”

“No,” Kaito said quietly. “Not yet. You promised me one more summer.”

“I didn’t know my body would break its promise.”

Kaito held Ren’s hand tighter, but not tight enough to hurt. He had learned over the weeks how fragile Ren had become.

“I wish I could take your pain,” Kaito said.

Ren’s eyes glistened. “You already have. Every time you smiled at me. Every time you held me. I didn’t hurt as much.”

Kaito broke. His shoulders shook as he leaned his forehead against Ren’s hand. The tears came freely now, hot and endless.

“I’m scared,” Kaito whispered.

Ren closed his eyes. “Me too.”

The silence that followed was sacred and heavy. After a while, Kaito sat up again and reached for another piece of paper.

Ren watched him fold it with steady hands this time.

“Four hundred and twenty-nine.”

“I love you,” Ren said.

“I love you more,” Kaito replied, not looking up.

“No, I love you most.”

Kaito looked at him and saw the smile. Weak. Honest. Final

He reached for Ren’s face, cupping his cheek gently. “Then come back. In another life. Find me. Knock over the poetry shelf again.”

Ren nodded faintly, eyes beginning to close. “Okay. I’ll find you. I promise.”

A few minutes later, the monitor stopped beeping

Kaito sat still, paper crane in his hand, unfinished. His world folded in on itself — like paper, like silence

Outside, the sky turned the color of mourning. Inside, the window was filled with cranes — and the one person Kaito had loved most had finally let go...

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***