Weeks had passed since Kai's death, but the wounds he left behind felt as raw as the day it happened. Mina had retreated into herself, locking her bedroom door and shutting out the world. I visited her house every day, desperate to pull her out of the darkness, but it was like speaking to a ghost. Whenever I knocked on her door, she'd pretend to be asleep, her still form barely rising and falling with her shallow breaths. She wouldn't talk to anyone—not to her parents, not to me. School, once a place of solace for her, had become an afterthought.

Every day, I watched her crumble a little more, her vibrant spirit dimming before my eyes. I couldn't bear it, yet I didn't know how to reach her.

And then there was Momo.

Sana confided in me one afternoon, her voice heavy with despair. "Momo blames herself," she said. "She thinks Kai's death was her fault, and it's destroying her."

Momo had become a shadow of herself, shutting herself away in her room much like Mina. Sana explained how she'd tried countless times to comfort her, but Momo refused to talk to anyone—not even Mina's parents, who had always treated her like family.

"She's thinking about going back to Japan," Sana whispered, her eyes glistening with tears. "She says she can't bear the pain anymore. Every night, we hear her sobbing, and sometimes... she screams. It's like she's punishing herself."

Hearing this broke something inside me. Momo was drowning in guilt, and no one could pull her out—not even Sana.

"Poor Momo," I murmured, my chest tightening.

But my focus had to remain on Mina. I couldn't lose her, not like this.

That evening, I knocked softly on Mina's door before entering. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor. Her once-bright eyes were dull, her face pale and drawn.

I sat beside her, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder before taking her hand in mine. Her skin was cold, her fingers limp in my grasp.

"You should eat," I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just a little, Mina. I don't want you to get sick."

For the first time in days, she spoke. Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Will you... take me somewhere? Somewhere I can be alone. Somewhere quiet, where I can forget for a while."

Her words were like a faint spark in the darkness, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to heal.

I nodded, relief washing over me. "I'll take you," I promised, "but on one condition—you won't be alone. I'll stay by your side. And you need to eat, even if it's just a little. Deal?"

She hesitated before giving a small nod.

The next morning, I spoke to her parents. They looked as worn and broken as Mina, their grief etched into every line on their faces.

"Mina asked me to take her on a trip," I explained. "Just for two days,. She needs a change of scenery, somewhere peaceful to clear her mind."

Her mother's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded. "If it will help her, take her," she said, her voice trembling.

Her father placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. "Take care of her. Please."

"I will," I vowed, my heart heavy with the weight of their trust.

As I packed our bags, my thoughts kept drifting back to Momo. Her pain, her guilt—it mirrored Mina's, yet it had taken on a life of its own. I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger toward the man who had destroyed so many lives with a single, violent act.

But I couldn't allow Mina to fall apart. Not on my watch.

Our trip wouldn't fix everything, I knew that much. But if it could give her even a moment of peace, then it was worth every effort. Because Kai's death had stolen too much already, and I wasn't about to let it take Mina too.

I decided to bring Mina to Doi Pha Hom Pok Mountain, a place I hoped would give her the peace she needed. We left her house at exactly 4 a.m., the quiet streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. Since it was a long journey from Chiang Mai, I wanted to ensure she was comfortable.

"Minari, are you cold?" I asked, glancing back at her.

She shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. "Your body gives me warmth, so just focus on driving, okay?"

"Okay, but don't even think about falling asleep, you sleepyhead," I teased. "And if you need anything, just tell me, my Princess."

She didn't respond with words this time, but instead, she hugged me tightly from behind. The warmth of her embrace, even in the cool morning air, was enough to melt any lingering worries in my heart.

We arrived in Chai Prakan District around 10 a.m. The off-peak season made booking a hotel easy, and we quickly settled into our room. I turned to Mina after setting down our bags.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

Instead of answering, she tugged my hand and pulled me to sit beside her on the bed. She wrapped her arms around me, her head resting on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a while, the silence between us speaking volumes.

Then I felt it—a damp spot on my shoulder. Mina was crying.

I held her tighter, gently patting her back. "It's okay to cry, Minari," I whispered. "Cry as much as you need. Don't keep it bottled up inside. I know how hard this is for you. When my sister and I lost our parents, I thought the pain would never end. But letting it out—it helps. Little by little, time will start to heal those wounds in your heart."

She pulled back slightly, her teary eyes locking onto mine. "Don't even think about leaving me," she said firmly, her voice trembling but resolute. "Or else!"

I cupped her face, brushing a tear away with my thumb. "Leave you? That thought has never even crossed my mind," I reassured her. "Do you know how lucky I feel to have you in my life? You're my everything, Minari. Some of my friends used to dream about you before we got together—did I ever tell you that? Even the staff at your ballet recital couldn't stop talking about how beautiful you were. And yet, here you are, mine."

Her lips curled into a soft smile, the first I'd seen in days. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here," she admitted.

I leaned closer, holding her gaze. "That's why I'm here—to be with you, through everything. God gave you me, Minari, so you'd never have to face your darkest moments alone."

She closed her eyes, and I instinctively moved closer, my lips meeting hers in a kiss that felt like the missing piece of a puzzle sliding into place. Her lips fit mine perfectly, as though we were made for each other.

As I kissed her, a memory flashed in my mind, making me smile against her lips. It was our first kiss—if you could even call it that. It hadn't gone nearly as smoothly as this.

She'd leaned in close back then, her eyes fluttering shut, her face mere inches from mine. I didn't realize what she wanted. I thought she just wanted me to admire her face up close, so I did exactly that—I stared. She was breathtaking, after all, and I could've spent forever lost in the beauty of her features.

But when she opened her eyes and saw me just staring at her like a fool, confusion flashed across her face. I grinned sheepishly and, for some reason, poked her nose.

Her reaction was immediate—she smacked me square in the forehead.

"Idiot!" she snapped before storming off, leaving me dumbfounded. I chased after her, apologizing profusely.

"Minari, I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything by it. Your nose is still perfectly fine, see?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She glared at me and hit me again, this time on the head. Then she called her driver and left without another word.

For days, she didn't speak to me. When she finally did, she said, "If I lean in like that, it means I want a kiss, you moron!"

I'd never been in a relationship before, so I had no idea what her actions meant. But after that incident, I learned to pay close attention to her every move.

Back in the present, I pulled away slightly, her soft laugh pulling me out of the memory.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You," she said, her cheeks flushing. "Remember our first almost-kiss? You're lucky I didn't break your nose that day."

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her. "I've been in plenty of fights, Minari, but no one hits as hard as you do when you're mad."

"That's because I'm not just anyone," she teased, her voice lighter now.

"No, you're not," I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You're my angel—an angel with the strength of a wrestler."

She laughed, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, her laughter filled the room, chasing away the shadows.

The moment Mina mentioned she was hungry and craving noodle soup, I wasted no time. We wandered through the streets until we found a small, cozy restaurant serving her favorite dish. The warmth of the broth and the aroma of the spices seemed to lift her spirits, and seeing her smile as she savored her meal made the trip already feel worthwhile.

After our meal, we returned to the hotel to pack the essentials for our climb to Doi Pha Hom Pok Mountain. I had reached out to Pho, an old high school friend who now worked as a guide in the area, to accompany us. He'd been thrilled to hear from me and agreed to help without hesitation.

When we met him, his face lit up with recognition. "Chaeng! It's been forever! Great to see you again, buddy!" he exclaimed, giving me a hearty high five.

"Pho, man! I didn't think I'd ever run into you again. We've all missed you—how come you never came back to visit after high school?" I teased.

After a moment of catching up, I turned to Mina, who was standing beside me. "Mina, this is Pho, my classmate from high school and one of my closest friends. Pho, this is Mina, my girlfriend."

Mina bowed politely to greet him, and Pho returned the gesture, extending his hand for a handshake. Mina smiled and took it.

Pho, ever the joker, grinned mischievously. "So, Mina, what's it like dating a former gang leader?"

Mina's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I felt my heart skip a beat. Without missing a beat, I grabbed Pho by the neck and dragged him away. "Hey, let's get moving. Mina wants to see the sunset," I muttered through gritted teeth before whispering sharply in his ear, "She doesn't know."

Pho chuckled under his breath but didn't push the topic further.

Holding Mina's hand, I asked, "Ready?" She nodded enthusiastically, her excitement shining through. "It's going to be a long trail," I warned, but she was undeterred.

As we climbed the winding path, the crisp mountain air grew cooler, and the scenery around us became more breathtaking. Halfway through the trek, Mina paused, leaning against me.

"I'm tired," she said softly.

Without hesitation, I knelt down, motioning for her to hop on my back. "Come on, Princess. I've got you."

She climbed onto my back, resting her head against my shoulder. The weight of her exhaustion felt light compared to the joy of knowing I could be there for her.

When we reached the summit, the view was nothing short of magical. As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we set up our tent. Pho helped us before stepping back with a grin.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds to enjoy the evening. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said with a wink before dodging the stone I playfully tossed at him.

"Thanks, Pho. Safe trip back!" I called.

He waved, promising to visit us in Bangkok sometime.

Once Pho was gone, Mina crossed her arms, pretending to pout. "You two were so caught up in your bromance, I thought you forgot I was here."

I laughed, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Jealous, are we? Don't worry. You've got me all to yourself until morning."

She rolled her eyes but leaned into my embrace. Together, we watched the sun sink below the horizon.

"Mina," I said softly, "this place is beautiful, but it's even more special because I'm here with you. Whenever you miss me, and we're apart, just look at the sky. I promise I'll be looking at it too. It'll be our connection, no matter where we are."

She turned to me, her eyes shimmering in the fading light. "The sky will always reunite our feelings," she whispered before hugging me tightly.

Later that evening, I built a small bonfire to keep us warm and to cook our dinner. Mina sat nearby, happily roasting marshmallows while I prepared the rest of our meal. Her laughter, soft and melodic, filled the night as she teased me about my cooking skills.

After dinner, we climbed onto a large rock to stargaze. The endless sky above us felt like a world of its own, glittering with countless stars.

"When I was little," Mina began, her voice wistful, "I used to dream of becoming a star in the sky. I wanted to shine as brightly as they do."

I looked at her, the firelight dancing in her eyes. "Do you know why you didn't become a star?" I asked gently.

She tilted her head, waiting for my answer.

"Because if you had, you'd be too far away from me."

Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled, her gaze softening.

"Mina," I continued, "you were never meant to be a star in the sky. You were destined to be here with me."

She leaned in, and our lips met in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a moment that felt as infinite as the universe above us.

The night deepened, wrapping us in its quiet embrace. Mina rested her head against my chest as we lay side by side, the fire crackling softly in the background.

"I wish we could stay here forever," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

I tightened my arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Me too, Mina. Me too."

That night, under the endless sky and surrounded by nature's quiet beauty, we became one—bound not just by love but by the promise of always being there for each other, no matter where life took us.

The morning sunlight streamed gently through the tent's opening, casting a warm glow over the fabric. I stirred awake and realized she was still peacefully sleeping beside me, her soft breaths rising and falling against my chest. Her head rested on my arm, and even though my muscles ached slightly, I didn't dare move. Waking her from this serene moment felt like a sin.

As I gazed at her, the events of the previous night replayed in my mind. It was the most intimate, heartfelt, and special night of my life—a moment when we laid bare not just our bodies but our souls. Her trust, her love, her vulnerability—it all overwhelmed me. I reached for the blanket and gently pulled it over her exposed shoulders, shielding her from the morning chill.

My fingers traced the curve of her cheek, the gentle slope of her nose, and the soft outline of her lips. She was perfect in every way, and I couldn't believe she was mine. This trip had already become one of the most unforgettable memories of my life, and I silently thanked the universe for her.

After a simple breakfast at a restaurant near the foot of the mountain, we packed our belongings and started our journey back to the hotel. The ride was quiet but comfortable, filled with the kind of silence where words aren't necessary. Her hand rested in mine, a silent reminder of the bond we'd deepened the night before.

But as we checked out of the hotel and prepared to head back home, a strange sense of unease began to settle over me. I couldn't place it, but it gnawed at the back of my mind.

When we pulled up in front of her house later that afternoon, the sight of flashing lights from police cars and an ambulance immediately set my heart racing. Mina's hand tightened around mine as we stepped out of the car.

"What's happening?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Inside the house, the air was thick with grief. Her mother was in tears, clutching Sana tightly, who was equally distraught. Her father stood nearby, his face pale and drawn.

"What happened?" Mina asked again, louder this time. Her mother turned to her, wrapping her arms around her daughter and whispering, "Momo is gone."

Time seemed to stop.

Mina froze, disbelief written all over her face. "What do you mean, 'gone'?" she stammered, her voice cracking.

Her mother's sobs were her only response.

Mina broke free and rushed to Momo's room. I followed closely, dreading what we might find.

The sight before us was devastating. Momo's lifeless body lay on a stretcher, her figure covered with a white sheet. Two paramedics were preparing to carry her out to the ambulance.

Mina's legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "No, no, no!" she cried, reaching out to stop them.

When the sheet slipped slightly, revealing the marks of the rope around Momo's neck, Mina's cries turned into heart-wrenching sobs. The raw pain in her voice echoed through the room, shattering the fragile silence.

The police inspector approached, his tone grim yet gentle. "It's clear this was a suicide. There's no evidence of foul play. It appears... she couldn't cope with the guilt and sorrow any longer."

His words hung heavy in the air. Guilt. Pain. Darkness. Momo had succumbed to the weight of it all, letting it swallow her whole.

Mina sat by the window of her room that night, staring blankly at the sky. Her tears had stopped, but her silence was deafening. I sat beside her, unsure of what to say, feeling utterly powerless.

She finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought I was starting to heal after Kai. But now... it's like the universe is determined to break me all over again."

I reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. "Mina, you don't have to face this alone. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

She turned to me, her eyes swollen and red. "I can't lose anyone else, Chaeng. I can't take it anymore."

Her words cut through me like a knife.

"If I could take away all your pain, I would," I said, my voice shaking. "I hate seeing you like this. I'd give anything to take your sadness away, to make things right."

She leaned her head against my shoulder, her tears soaking through my shirt. "Why does it feel like everyone I love slips away from me?"

I didn't have an answer, so I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, wishing that somehow my embrace could shield her from the cruelty of the world.

That night, we sat in the dark, enveloped by grief but held together by love. I knew the road ahead would be long and painful, but I also knew that as long as I had Mina, I would walk it with her, step by step, until we found light again.