Rina watched the silence settle over Leo, his face etched with a sorrow that made her own heart ache. A helpless wish bloomed within her—the power to rewind time, to undo the tragedy. But such magic was beyond her. What was done, was done. Her role now was not to change the past, but to be his anchor in the present, supporting him as he navigated the storm.
The memory of her grandfather's voice surfaced then, a piece of wisdom she had carried for years, and she knew it was time to share it.
"When the sadness comes," she said softly, "you must love yourself as a good friend would. Treat yourself with the same kindness you'd offer someone you cherish. That is how you make it through. And one day, you'll see that even the toughest road was worth travelling with bare soles."
Leo nodded, his voice a carefully constructed facade of strength. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine, just… a little down. Thank you for staying with me, Riri."
Her words, and her very presence, filled him with a profound gratitude. He recalled lines from something he had read long ago, their meaning now crystallizing in his heart: Real love is a protector, a defender. It is a ride-or-die connection that stays with you for always and in all ways. It is raw, and it will roar for you if required. It will sit with you in quietness and be your comfort. Real love will celebrate with you and raise you up. It will be okay with your sadness and kiss the scars you hide from others. It is rare. Treasure it. Keep it as long as you live. For real love is the greatest blessing heaven can give.
In Rina, he had found that blessing. And for tonight, that was enough.
"I can't sleep,"Leo said, his voice tight. "Let's play chess." He needed a distraction—anything to keep his mind from wandering back to the crushing loss of his father and brother, a path that always led to a fresh, aching grief.
Rina understood completely. Without a word of protest, she went to the table where a chessboard was always kept; as an avid player, she made sure one was never far away.
The chessboard became an island in the quiet of the night, its checkered squares a battlefield for Leo's restless mind. As he set up the pieces, his movements were sharp, frantic. Rina watched him for a moment before rising.
"Before we begin, let's have a drink," she suggested, her voice gentle. She went to the small refrigerator in his room and returned with two glasses of orange juice.
Leo accepted his without a second thought, his attention already consumed by the opening move he was planning. The game commenced, a series of quiet clicks and thoughtful silences. He played with aggressive, almost reckless strategy, as if trying to outmaneuver his own grief. Rina played defensively, her moves calculated not to win, but to engage, to tire him out.
Sip by sip, the doctored orange juice vanished. As the game reached its climax, Leo's blinks grew longer. He executed a clever fork, capturing her queen and sealing his victory.
"Checkmate," he murmured, but the word was slurred with exhaustion. A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips before his eyes fluttered shut, his body slumping back into the armchair, overwhelmed by the combined weight of emotional drain and the pill.
Rina set her glass down. She knelt beside him, gently caressing his white hair.
"Forgive me," she whispered into the quiet, her voice thick with love and guilt. "It was the only solution I could think of." With careful strength, she maneuvered him onto the bed, pulling the covers over him. She watched the lines of sorrow ease from his face in sleep, praying the rest would bring him more comfort than her words ever could.