Theo stared at his finger—whole again—and his breath caught in his throat. Panic surged from his stomach to his chest like a suffocating wave of heat. Impossible… why now, of all times?
The memory returned—not a dark, distant one, but the doctor's examination while he had been in a coma. The doctor had spoken carefully, with clear bewilderment, saying that Theo's cells were abnormal, capable of regenerating far faster than those of a normal human. They had even suspected a "biological anomaly" in his body. Theo knew it wasn't just medicine… it was power. Something he had never acknowledged, not even to Alvano.
And now, that power had surfaced at the worst possible moment.
Alvano was still staring at Theo's finger, confusion written all over his face.
"Just now… it was bleeding, right? I'm not imagining things, am I?!"
Theo quickly pulled his hand back and stood up in a rush. "Ah—uh—my stomach… it hurts!" he blurted out nervously. "I—I think I got shaken up. Ouch… damn…"
"Your stomach? All of a sudden?" Alvano frowned, still unconvinced. "Theo, I saw the wound."
"Then it must've been a tiny cut!" Theo cut in quickly. He pressed a hand to his stomach, pretending to be in pain. "I thought it was bad because I panicked. But turns out it was just a small scratch."
Alvano stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to read the lie on his face. Theo looked away, his heart pounding wildly.
"I'm really fine," Theo continued, forcing his voice to sound calm. "We were rushing to clean up the broken glass, so I probably… saw it wrong. You panicked too, right?"
Alvano let out a long breath, his confusion still lingering. But in the end, he sat down on the edge of the bed and lowered his gaze. "I… yeah. I really panicked when the glass fell."
Theo slowly sat back down, steadying his breathing. Silently, he prayed that Alvano would accept the explanation without digging any deeper.
Because if Alvano learned the truth now—that Theo possessed a power no ordinary human should have—everything would become far more complicated.
And Theo wasn't ready. Not yet. Not for anyone.
Still half-panicked, Theo hurriedly changed the subject.
"Uh… anyway, Van. We're done cleaning, right? Let's talk about something else. Your room's changed a lot, huh?"
He stood and walked around the room, pretending to be interested in trivial things. In truth, his mind was still in chaos, filled with fear that Alvano would bring up the vanished wound again.
Alvano watched him with slightly raised brows, clearly suspicious, but chose not to push further. "Yeah… I just reorganized it yesterday."
Theo nodded quickly, his eyes searching for something—anything—to shift the topic. Then his gaze landed on a red book that stood out among the others on the shelf. Its cover was a little worn, but the color was striking.
"Oh? What's this?" Theo asked, reaching out and pulling the book free.
Before he could open it, Alvano rushed over and grabbed his hand.
"Don't! Don't open that!"
Theo flinched, staring at his friend, who now looked more panicked than he had when the glass shattered. "Huh? Why? What's wrong?"
Alvano took a deep breath, then looked down. "That's… my middle school diary."
Theo's eyes widened. "What?! Seriously? This is a diary?"
"Yeah." Alvano scratched the back of his neck, his face flushing slightly. "It's… embarrassing. A lot of stupid stuff."
Theo immediately closed the book with both hands and handed it back. "I'm really sorry, Van! I honestly didn't know. I thought it was just a notebook."
Alvano took it, clutching it to his chest as if it were a precious secret. "It's fine… just—don't open it, okay? It's… really bad."
Theo gave a small smile, relieved that the atmosphere had finally eased and the topic of his wound had nearly faded away. "Don't worry. I won't open it without your permission."
Alvano nodded faintly. His face was still red, but his eyes looked calmer.
Inwardly, Theo was grateful. If that diary could divert the conversation, then tonight he had narrowly escaped one major secret being exposed.
Theo watched Alvano's back as he carefully slid the red diary deep into the corner of the bookshelf, as if the world would collapse if anyone read it. Yet in the silence, Theo felt something else—a subtle pressure in his head, like an old door creaking open after being sealed for years.
The seal on his memories was gone. He knew it. And with those memories restored, Theo knew exactly what was written in that diary. A bitter feeling crept into his chest.
That red diary wasn't just an ordinary teenage journal.
Its pages were fragments of wounds Alvano had never shown on the surface.
Complaints about harsh days in middle school.
About mockery, shoves, and cruelty brushed off by others as trivial, yet slowly tearing his heart apart.
About the fear of crossing paths in school hallways.
About feeling useless, lonely, and wanting to disappear.
And then… there was one entry, softer than all the others.
A page about the day he met Theo for the first time.
Theo swallowed hard. Those wounds… were wounds that even his regenerative power could never heal. His presence only dulled the pain for a while, allowing Alvano to breathe a little easier each day. But the wounds never vanished. They merely slept.
And at certain times—like when Alvano was under mental pressure from Nathaniel, the Velmont student council president—those wounds tore open again. As if he were dragged back to a time when the entire world seemed to be against him.
Theo's thoughts tightened as the name resurfaced in his mind.
Nathaniel.
The man who intimidated others with a fake, pleasant smile. Who crushed classmates without leaving physical marks, yet damaged their minds deeply enough to break them.
Theo clenched his fist. Angry. Furiously angry.
And guilty as well.
Because in the end, their encounter with Nathaniel… had also been triggered by his own carelessness. There were so many things he hadn't considered, and because of that, Alvano had been dragged into a vortex he never should have had to face.
Theo looked at Alvano, now sitting on the edge of the bed with a faint smile, as if nothing were wrong. A smile that hid far too much.
And in his heart, Theo made a promise:
no matter what happened, he would never let someone like Nathaniel touch those wounds again.
Theo stiffened. For the first time since waking from his coma, he saw Alvano like this—his shoulders trembling, his breathing uneven, tears slipping down slowly as if holding back years of pain. Alvano's voice cracked, fragile, nothing like the firm, cold tone he usually showed to the world.
"I—I should've done something, Theo…" Alvano clutched the hem of his shirt, as if searching for something to hold on to. "If only I'd been stronger back then, if only I hadn't been scared, we… we wouldn't have ended up like this…"
Theo opened his mouth, but the words refused to come. He had never imagined Alvano carrying such a heavy burden alone. All this time, he had only seen the strong, independent side Alvano always showed. Behind it all lay a regret that had never healed.
Alvano continued, his voice hoarse, echoing like water caught in his throat. "I saw you fall… blood everywhere… and I—I just stood there. My body wouldn't move. I was scared, Theo. I was scared you'd die right in front of me…" He bowed his head, covering his face with both hands. "I'm a coward. I hate myself for that."
Theo finally moved. His heart felt as if it were being squeezed—warm, or maybe aching; he wasn't sure which. But instinct took over. He reached for Alvano's hand slowly, letting it feel the warmth that began to flow from within him on its own. A warmth that seemed intent on soothing, on sealing invisible cracks no human eye could see.
"Alvano," Theo said softly. "That wasn't your fault. It was fate. And I'm still here, aren't I?" He met Alvano's tear-filled eyes, forcing a gentle smile despite the pain in his own chest. "You don't have to blame yourself. You're not alone."
Alvano froze, his eyes widening at that warmth—warmth that only Theo possessed—wrapping around his heart, as if stopping an earthquake he had endured by himself for far too long.