Tick-tock.

The university cafeteria was a busy place, full of sounds and smells.

Sunlight came through the windows, showing tiny dust bits floating in the air. He sat at their usual table, a big wooden one, surrounded by his friends. Jisung was next to him, smiling softly. Across from them, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Felix were joking and teasing each other.

Laughter filled the air, a sound Minho loved more each day. For Minho, it felt calm, a normal moment.

"Honestly, Changbin, please stop," Hyunjin said, leaning his head back. His long hair moved. "It was bad enough the first time!"

Changbin just smiled, leaning back in his chair, a playful look in his eyes. "What? Is it my fault your classmates liked it?"

Felix added, grinning wide, when he saw the confused glances exchanged by Jisung and Minho. "He means when Changbin went to Hyunjin's class. He was asking for him, and he just said, 'Did anyone see my Jagiya?" Felix acted out looking around, saying 'Jagiya' in a funny way. " Then Hyunjin's classmates got confused and asked who this Jagiya was and the rest is history."

Everyone chuckled, even Minho, who gently nudged Hyunjin. Hyunjin's face turned red, and he hid it in his hands.

"It's not funny! Since then, if he even comes near my building, my classmates yell, 'Oh, Hyunjin, your husband is here!' It's so embarrassing!"

Changbin puffed out his chest, pretending to be proud. "Just telling the truth, Hyunjinnie."

As Hyunjin and Changbin kept up their funny argument, Jisung, who had been quietly drinking water, looked at Minho. His hands went up, clear and quick.

"Want Pink milk!" he signed, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Minho's heart felt full. He tried hard to be in the moment, to push away the sad thoughts about his short time left. But these small moments, Jisung's simple wishes, kept him grounded. He pushed his chair back.

"Okay, my dear," he said, smiling gently. "I'll get your pink milk. Don't let these two bother each other too much while I'm gone."

He stood up. His head felt light, a feeling he thought was just from not eating enough, or maybe stress. He took one step, then another.

The cafeteria, with its happy sounds and bright lights, suddenly spun around him. The floor seemed to tip, and the bright colors blurred into a swirling darkness. A cold sweat broke out, and a wave of sickness washed over him. The world faded from his sight, replaced by a deep blackness.

Before he could even understand what was happening, his legs gave out. He felt himself falling to the ground. The sound of his own name being called seemed far away, then disappeared completely.

★

Minho slowly opened his eyes. The world was stark white, smelling faintly of disinfectant. A soft, rhythmic beeping filled the quiet space. He looked down and saw an IV drip connected to his hand, a clear tube running from a bag hanging above him.

He was in a hospital room. He remembered the cafeteria, the spinning floor, and the sudden darkness.

Jisung was sitting by his bedside, his face pale with worry. When he saw Minho's eyes open, relief washed over him. Jisung's hands quickly moved, signing to Minho.

"The doctor said you passed out because of stress. And skipping meals." His gaze held a soft scolding.

Minho felt a familiar pang of guilt. He had been trying to hide his changing habits, his fading appetite, but Jisung always saw too much. Jisung signed again,

"The doctor said we can leave once the IV drip is done."

Minho nodded, a small, weak acknowledgement. He watched Jisung's hands move.

Jisung offered a hesitant smile. "I'll be right back. Going to get some water." He gently squeezed Minho's hand before standing up. Minho watched the boy leave the room, the door closing softly behind him.

Minho sighed, feeling the quiet of the room. He was just about to close his eyes, trying to push away the heavy thoughts, when he heard a voice. It was soft, like a whisper carried on the wind, yet it filled the room.

He opened his eyes. Standing by the window, shimmering slightly, was the angel. But this time, it took on the familiar, kind face of Felix, its soft features holding a troubled look.

Minho looked at the angel, confused, his brow furrowing. "Felix?" he mumbled, his throat dry.

The angel's lips curved into a sad smile. "This—" it resonated, its voice gentle, "is the first reaction. The first sign of your time reaching its end. This is your body telling you. In the future, this is how it begins."

Minho felt a fresh wave of heartbreak. This was it, then. The start of the inevitable. His vision of death, the blurry collapse, it had been real.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the truth settle. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken things. When he opened his eyes again, he looked directly at the angel. A calm settled over him, cold and clear.

"I understand," Minho said, his voice stronger now, though still quiet. "I accept it. I'm... okay to accept my death." His own life felt insignificant compared to Jisung's smile, Jisung's future.

He looked at the angel, pleading. "But please," Minho whispered, "look after Jisung. Make sure he's happy. Promise me that. And if it's possible... remove his memory of me. Let him forget me, so he doesn't hurt."

The angel shook its head, its eyes soft with sorrow. "I can protect Jisung. I can guide him, watch over his happiness. But I cannot remove memories, Minho. It is against the universe's law. Love, even painful love, shapes a soul. I cannot erase that."

Minho's heart clenched. Jisung would remember. He would grieve. But he would live. Minho nodded slowly, accepting this, too. One last request, then.

"Then please," he added, his voice filled with desperate hope, "make sure Jisung's voice comes back. In the future operation. Make it work. For him."

The angel smiled, a true, warm smile that reached its eyes. It stretched out a shimmering hand, a soft light glowing around its palm. "That, I can seal for you." As its light flared, the angel's form began to dissipate, dissolving into thin air.

At the exact same moment, the door to the hospital room opened. Jisung walked in, a bottle of water in his hand, his eyes immediately going to Minho, who was now sitting up, watching the empty space where the angel had been.

Jisung frowned, walking closer, and stood in front of Minho, directing the latter's attention towards Jisung.

"What's it? You okay?" he signed, his gaze searching Minho's face.

Minho just shook his head, a small, tired smile on his lips. "Nothing, baby," he said, his voice raspy. "Just feeling a bit tired. Come, sit. Let's just talk until this IV drip ends."

He extended a hand towards Jisung, wanting nothing more than to feel his warmth, to cherish these precious, borrowed moments.