A warmth of change.

Chapter 61: A warmth of change.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle light across the room. Ren sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, with his body feeling slightly wet from a night of restless sleep and a fever that had yet to completely subside. The beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, a stark reminder of his current vulnerability.

His mind drifted to the peculiar habit of sleepwalking he had developed. 'I can't keep depending on her,' he thought, a grim determination settling in his chest. 'I can't become a burden on anyone. It's a good thing Ryo-san and Ryuga-san left for Kyoto for some work... I have to stand on my own.'

At the current moment, adult Ren took over the young Ren's body. The transformation was subtle yet significant; his eyes, once filled with curiosity and excitement, were now shadowed and emotionless. The exhaustion was etched deep into his features, the downcast expression and lifeless gaze telling a story of sleepless nights and relentless inner turmoil. He was always tired. In his previous life, he had forgotten how to sleep properly. His life had always been in danger. No matter how much he tried, if he attempted to sleep peacefully, the fear of being killed in his sleep haunted him.

But before he fell ill, he would keep those thoughts in the deepest part of his mind. Those thoughts, combined with many others, stole his ability to sleep, to feel, to enjoy life. They acted as a cage, trapping him in a prison of his own making. Now, those same thoughts had resurfaced, haunting him once more. He desperately wanted to throw them away, to hide from them, to avoid them, to escape from them. But he was unable to do so. They were like a stain on clear water, polluting his mind and soul.

After being sent back in time, his mornings were initially filled with thoughts of how to spend the day, how to help his parents, and how to enjoy the simplicity of life. But now, his mind was consumed with a single objective: saving Sun Chemical from its impending demise. His interference might cause unforeseen consequences, and he knew he was playing a dangerous game. He was placing his hands inside a sleeping lion's mouth, and it was unpredictable when the lion would bite back. He needed to be cautious, to avoid any blunders, for a single mistake could lead to his ruin.

He lacked influence, a crucial element in his plan. Without it, his strategy would remain nothing but a useless, unfulfilled idea. 'Maybe... I can use it...' he thought, his eyes drifting towards the hanger where his pants from the previous day hung. He walked up to it, his body aching with each step. The more he moved, the more the pain intensified. 'I should have stayed in bed...' he thought, but since he was already up, he might as well continue with his plan.

He dived his hands into the pocket, feeling like he was searching for a needle in a polluted pond. After what felt like an eternity, he finally found the card. He looked at the name but it didn't ring any bells. 'Perhaps this person's company was thrown out of competition while I was still a student,' he mused. He walked towards the bed and sat down at the edge, his head throbbing. 'I need to get the medicine...' he thought and made his way downstairs, using the wall for support.

This dependency on physical support was maddening. He wasn't used to it. He found the medicine box, took out a pill for his headache, and sat on the floor with a glass of water in his hand. As he swallowed the medicine, he pondered the cause of his sudden illness. Nothing he had done recently seemed to warrant such a condition. 'I don't need to think about this...' he decided. 'What is important is for me to kill the cow that would cause more trouble than profit...'

He got up, barely managing to stand, and walked back towards his room. Upon reaching his door, he touched the doorknob and felt an electrifying sensation, jolting him back. Shaking his head, he wrapped his shirt around his hand and successfully opened the door. He entered the room and sat on the bed's edge, feeling utterly exhausted. As he lay down, he allowed his body to surrender to sleep.

Before drifting off, his eyes fell on the wall clock. The time was 4:09 AM.

He stirred again when the door creaked open. Much to his surprise, it was Shimo. She entered quietly, carrying a tray with a variety of traditional Japanese dishes. The aroma of miso soup and freshly steamed rice filled the air, mingling with the delicate scent of grilled fish.

"Good morning," she greeted him, her voice gentle yet firm.

Ren's eyes flickered towards her briefly before he looked away, a knot of tension tightening in his chest. She came back, he thought, both relieved and frustrated. 'Why can't she just leave me alone?' he wondered.

He didn't respond, his jaw clenching. Shimo's presence, her unwavering kindness, was like a mirror reflecting his own vulnerabilities. It was something he couldn't afford to face.

Shimo set the tray down on the low table beside him, her expression a mix of concern and determination. "I brought you some breakfast," she said softly. "You need to eat to regain your strength."

Ren glanced at the food, then back at Shimo. His stomach tightened with both hunger and hesitation. 'She went through all this trouble... for me?' he thought.

"You don't have to do this, Shimo," he said, his voice low. "I can manage. You do remember the time when I used those wet onigiri to make food that we can eat."

She shook her head, her expression resolute. "Yes, you did. And I won't forget that day. But you shouldn't have to manage alone. Please, let me help you. I am here to help you."

Ren pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as the room spun. He steadied himself against the wall, refusing to meet her gaze. "I told you yesterday," he said, his voice rough and strained. "I don't need your help."

Shimo stepped closer, her eyes filled with concern. "Ren, you're not well. You still need to recover."

"I'm fine," he snapped, harsher than he intended. "I can take care of myself."

She flinched at his tone but didn't back down. "Ren, please. Let me help you. You don't have to do this alone."

He turned away from her, his fists clenching at his sides. "I've always done things alone," he muttered. "I don't need anyone."

"That's not true," Shimo said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Everyone needs someone. Someone they can rely on, someone whose shoulder they can lean on. Everyone needs that someone, even you, Ren."

"I don't deserve your kindness," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't deserve kindness in general."

"You do, Ren," she said firmly, her voice soothing. "You really do deserve kindness. You are a kind person."

Ren's eyes widened beneath his bangs. "I...am not," he whispered, the words barely reaching Shimo's ears.

Shimo's expression softened as she reached out, her hand hovering inches from Ren's arm. "I am not giving up..." she said, pulling her hand back. "I'll leave the food here. Eat so that you can be healthy."

She left after saying that, closing the door softly behind her. Ren sighed and let his body slide down to the floor, his back supported by the cold, hard wall that felt oddly comforting.

His eyes fell on the food, and a drop of drool escaped his mouth. Uncharacteristic as it was, his body moved on its own, drawn to the freshly cooked meal.

"It's... good," he admitted, the simple truth slipping out before he could stop it. He took another sip of miso soup, feeling a small measure of strength returning. "Thank you."

As Ren ate, the room was filled with a comfortable silence. Each bite of food seemed to warm his soul, making him crave more.

'Maybe...' he thought, a flicker of hope igniting within him. 'Maybe I can let her in, just a little.'

He continued to eat, savoring the flavors and the warmth that spread through him.

After finishing his meal, he thanked Shimo, much to her insistence and dismay. She took it upon herself to do the dishes.

"Do you feel better now?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

For a moment, there was no answer. The sound of water hitting the utensils was the only thing heard in the room.

"Yeah... Thanks to you," he finally answered, his gaze wandering around the room.

"Glad to hear that," she said, walking over to check his temperature by placing her hand on his forehead. Smiling to herself, she nodded. "I'll get going, but please make sure to call me if you feel bad... Just a missed call would do."

Ren nodded, his shoulders stiff. "I will."

"Please ask for help when needed," she said, cupping his face gently. "I will be there for you if you call out, got it?"

He gently pushed her hands away from his face. "Yeah. Thanks."

Shimo nodded and walked away, stealing one last glance at him before closing the door softly behind her.

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After she left , Ren went to his room , letting the cold , hard wall act as a medium which would make sure he doesn't fall down.

He begins to speak his mind , his thoughts that most of the time were organized, were scattered like a broken rock on a sea.

"I have always done things alone. That's how I survived. Being a mercenary, I constantly had my life at stake with every task handed to me. I was forced to lock away this concept called emotions.

But now, being exposed to these emotions, I feel something unfamiliar and profound.

It's as if for my whole life I was submerged under a sea, a sea so red, like blood, blinding my view. I couldn't see the light. The sea around me was that red because of all the things I had done, all the lives I had taken. I was rejected by light itself.

Yet now, exposed to this 'light,' I crave its warmth. More and more.

Maybe someone like me can change after all."