Ethan woke to a morning that felt heavier than most. The quiet of his small room was broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock, each beat pressing into his chest. He pulled himself up slowly, his body aching from restless hours, and dressed with little care. By the time he stepped outside, the air was still damp with dew, a reminder of how early it was, though it did nothing to ease the weight sitting on his shoulders.
At work, Ethan moved with a focused, automatic rhythm, lifting, checking, organizing, giving quiet instructions to those who needed direction. His position wasn't quite that of a supervisor, but he held enough responsibility to carry more than the average worker. Yet today, even that balance felt fragile. As the hours passed, small incidents added to his exhaustion. A coworker one of the newer hires fumbled a box of tools, letting them clatter noisily to the ground. The sound startled the entire row, and Ethan stooped silently to help pick them up, offering only a small nod of reassurance.
Still, whispers had already started weaving through the workplace, stretching from corner to corner. Some workers leaned against the rails, shaking their heads.
"He's just tired. Who wouldn't be, with the kind of hours he pulls?" one said quietly.
"Exhausted or not, you can't excuse everything. I'm not sure he's as level-headed as he pretends," another countered.
Others who knew Ethan better, who had seen his patience tested before, defended him. "No, that's not him. He doesn't lose it like that. Whatever's being said is blown out of proportion."
But rumors outweighed defense. A few voices lingered in the air, sharp, suspicious. "You can't trust guys like that. He's new, and already the talk of the place."
Marian, nearby, stood listening quietly. She didn't add much, only a soft, measured comment to someone at her side: "It's best not to assume too much. None of us really know the whole story." Then she drifted back to her work, her eyes flicking briefly toward Ethan before settling elsewhere.
The tension only grew when Joel approached Ethan. "The manager wants you."
Ethan wiped his palms against his trousers, nodded, and made his way to the office. The air inside was thick, cooler, more suffocating than the heat outside. The manager sat behind the desk, expression stern, no hint of welcome in his eyes.
"Ethan," he began, his voice plain, teetering on hostility. "I've had enough reports come across my desk to warrant this conversation. Arguments. Improper behavior. It's affecting the floor."
Ethan straightened. "With respect, that's not the full picture. I haven't done anything wrong, that's just noise that others choose to believe."
"I don't care." the manager cut in, his tone sharpened. "All I care about is the fact that your presence is disrupting workflow. This job doesn't give space for personal storms. If it continues, I'll have to reconsider if you're suited to be here at all."
The weight of that threat hung heavy. Ethan swallowed it down, his jaw tight, but he didn't argue further. He left the office without another word, Joel lingering by the door to give him a sympathetic glance, though it was brief and hesitant.
By the end of the day, Ethan stepped through the front entrance instead of slipping out the back like he often did. The sky outside had shifted toward dusk, streaks of gold and violet brushing against the horizon. The cool air hit his face, but it didn't soothe him. His thoughts churned, each step echoing with the fragments of accusations and whispers.
"Ethan." The voice came sharp from the side. Jonas stood there, leaning against a post, his frame tense. Cal and Marko lingered behind him, their presence looming but silent.
Ethan kept walking, his stride steady. "I don't have time for this."
But Jonas pushed off the post, closing the distance. "You think you can just keep hiding, hiding the truth? You're nothing, Ethan. Nothing but a shadow dragging hana down."
Ethan stopped. His chest rose and fell, heavy. He turned his head just enough to meet Jonas's glare. "You're only doing this for Hana's favor. Don't pretend it's anything else. And I promise you
she doesn't want you."
The words landed like a blade. Jonas's jaw clenched, fury flooding his face. Without warning, he lunged, swinging hard. Ethan caught the strike, shoved him back, but Cal and Marko moved in, emboldened.
The fight erupted messy and raw. Jonas swung wildly, fists driven by rage, while Cal and Marko tried to grab at Ethan's arms. Ethan defended himself, blocking, shoving, his movements restrained but strong. He wasn't trying to truly hurt them, but every strike he landed carried weight. Cal stumbled back with a split lip, Marko wiped at blood trickling from his nose, and Jonas staggered after a sharp jab to his side.
By the time it broke apart, all four of them bore marks of the clash. Jonas's lip was split, his cheek bruised. Ethan's knuckles were raw, his shirt torn at the shoulder. He turned away first, chest heaving, and began walking toward the road that would take him to Hana's. Behind him, Jonas spat to the side, blood mixing with dust, fury still burning in his eyes.
Jonas walked faster than usual, talking the other route that leads to hana, he straightened his jacket as if to hide the damage, but the pain in his lip betrayed him. He rehearsed his words in his head, telling himself Hana needed to know what Ethan was a violent, reckless man who didn't deserve her trust.
Ethan walked slower, each step heavy, as though weighed down by the truth he carried. His heart pounded not from the fight, but from the thought of seeing Hana, of explaining, of proving himself once more. His silence pressed against him, but so did the need to finally break it.
At Hana's shop, Jonas arrived first. He pushed the door open and stepped in, wiping at the corner of his mouth. Hana turned her head slightly toward him at the sound of the door.
"You have anything for a busted lip?" Jonas asked, his tone carefully softened.
"Yes I do...". She paused "What happened?" Hana's voice was calm but touched with concern.
"Ethan happend," Jonas said simply, letting the name hang in the air.
Mira was already there, quietly helping Hana sort through a basket near the counter. She looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly but she stayed silent, waiting.
Moments later, the door opened again. Ethan entered, his presence filling the small space. His knuckles were red, his breath still uneven, despite seeing Jonas and Mira his eyes locked instantly on Hana. He began speaking quickly, words tumbling out, voice loud not aggressive, but desperate, passionate.
"Hana, none of what they're saying is true. I swear it. The rumors, the lies, none of it. I've been holding it in, trying to keep the peace, but it's breaking me. I would never..." His words stumbled as Jonas straightened beside Hana, his presence like a wall between them.
Mira stepped closer, watching both men, her expression unreadable.
"Ethan, stop," Hana said, her voice trembling. "I can't do this. I can't handle the stress, the whispers, the heartache. I can't live like this anymore."
Ethan's chest tightened. "Hana, please"
Jonas cut in, a smirk tugging at his bruised lip. "See? Even now, he can't give you peace."
"Ethan," Hana said firmly, her voice breaking, "leave. Don't come back."
Silence swallowed the room. Ethan froze, the words striking harder than any blow Jonas had landed. His hands dropped to his sides, trembling slightly.
Mira finally spoke, her voice softer, attempting to bridge the impossible gap. "Hana… maybe don't shut him out so quickly. And Ethan… you have to understand how much this hurts her. She needs time. She needs space."
But Hana shook her head, tears slipping freely now. This was the first time she had cried so much, her frame shaking with the weight of it. "No. I can't. Not anymore."
Ethan's throat tightened. His voice dropped low, quiet, nearly breaking. "If that's how you feel… I will respect your wishes, I want to fight for you and your trust, but I'm afraid that I only made it worst by taking so long to tell you everything. I'm sorry, Hana. For everything. For breaking you."
He turned, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards, and left the shop without another word.
The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by Hana's quiet sobs and the faint creak of the door settling back into place.