The Turning Point (Part 2)

The café door suddenly swung open.

A young man in casual clothes entered, looking around. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on Hina.

"Are you there?" he asked, but she didn't respond. She was too deeply engrossed in her book.

He stepped forward and stood in front of her. "Hina… are you okay? Why aren't you replying?"

Hina flinched, snapping out of her deep focus. She blinked, realizing she was back in the café. Across from her, the young man had already taken a seat.

"Why didn't you answer my calls? I tried so many times, but you didn't pick up. So, I came here… I knew you'd be here."

She glanced at her phone—several missed calls.

"I was reading notes, so I didn't notice…"

The young man leaned forward, noticing the notebook in her hands. "Whose notebook is that?"

She hesitated before answering. "Arya's."

His eyes widened. "What?! Arya?!" His voice was loud enough to catch attention.

A waiter approached. "Is there a problem, sir?"

The young man shook his head. "No, nothing."

"Would you like to order something?" the waiter asked.

"One cold coffee."

"Anything else?"

"No, thanks."

As the waiter walked away, the young man turned back to Hina. "What are you doing?"

Hina closed the notebook slightly. "I want to know… what's written in here."

"Any secret messages?" he teased.

She shook her head. "It's his story."

"His story?" His tone became more serious. "Whose?"

She exhaled. "Arya's."

The young man leaned back, crossing his arms confidently. "I know him. I bet he wrote about me on the first page!"

Hina smirked. "No."

His expression fell. "Then… who?"

She rolled her eyes. "You idiot. He wrote about himself."

The young man blinked in realization. "Oh…"

"Can you tell me the story? I want to listen!" the boy said, his voice a little louder in excitement.

Hina sighed. "No choice, then. Okay. But remember, don't interrupt in the middle of the story."

"Okay!" he nodded eagerly.

Hina took a deep breath and began reading from where she had left off.

---

Arya stood outside his hospital room when he noticed a crowd gathering near Room 6. Curious, he stopped a passing nurse.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"They're preparing the room and making it better," the nurse replied.

"Why?"

"Because the owner of this hospital's son has just been admitted. They're upgrading the room for him. Look, he's over there."

The nurse walked away, and Arya turned to see his old hospital room now looking like a five-star hotel suite.

A boy approached him, radiating arrogance. "Hey, you need something?"

"Nothing," Arya replied.

"Then why are you standing in front of my room?" the boy scoffed. "I don't talk to people like you."

Before Arya could respond, the boy's attendant shoved him aside, and the door slammed shut.

A nurse rushed over. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine," Arya muttered.

She sighed. "Sorry, I forgot to warn you. He's a rich kid… full of ego. Just don't go near him. He doesn't like other people."

"I don't need to know his name," Arya cut her off. "I was just wondering who was next to my room."

Without another word, he walked to the hospital canteen.

He grabbed his breakfast and sat down at a table. Just as he picked up his spoon, a wheelchair rolled up in front of him.

It was Hina.

His hand trembled, and the spoon slipped from his fingers.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

"I-I'm fine," Arya replied, but his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

Hina sighed. "I saw what happened back there. He's always like that. Did he hurt you?"

Arya shook his head, trying to regain his composure. "I'm okay."

Suddenly, Hina's mother appeared. "There you are, honey."

Her eyes landed on Arya, and for some reason, he felt nervous.

"Who is he?" she asked.

Arya hesitated, unsure of what Hina would say.

Then, to his surprise, she smiled. "Mom, he helped me yesterday. He's a nice person. I made him my friend since I don't have any friends here."

Arya's eyes widened. Friend.

For the first time in his life, someone called him that.

A warmth spread through his chest, a feeling even stronger than before.

Hina's mother turned to him. "What's your name?"

"Arya," he answered.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

He stiffened. The doctor had told him not to reveal his real condition.

"Just some fever and minor health issues," he lied.

Then, she asked a question that sent a chill down his spine.

"Where are your parents?"

His body froze. A moment ago, he had felt happy, but now, an unbearable weight pressed down on him.

Hina noticed his change in expression. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Arya lowered his gaze.

Hina gently smiled. "Don't worry about my mom. When she meets my new friends, she always asks questions. But when she asked about your parents… I saw your face change."

She paused before adding softly, "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. I know there's a reason."

Arya clenched his fists. "It's not that…"

Hina tilted her head. "If you don't want to say, it's fine. Sometimes, thinking about certain things just makes us feel worse. We don't have to talk about them."

Her voice was kind, without any pressure. Arya looked at her and, for the first time, felt like someone understood.

"Let's eat breakfast, or it'll get cold," Hina said.

They ate together. After finishing, Hina looked at Arya. "Can you take me to my room?"

"Okay, no problem," Arya replied.

I have a friend now… someone who actually calls me a friend, Arya thought as he pushed her wheelchair. I don't know what it truly means, but it feels good when I hear it.

When they reached her room, Hina smiled. "Thank you, Arya."

"It's okay. You said we're friends, right?" Arya said.

"Oh, I forgot—between friends, no thank you and no sorry!" Hina pouted.

Arya chuckled but said nothing as he left. We just met yesterday… and now we're friends.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the person in front of him until they collided. Both fell to the floor.

"What the hell?!" the rich kid snapped, glaring at his broken watch. "Do you even know how much this watch costs?"

A nurse rushed over. "What happened?"

"I'm talking to him, not you!" the rich kid scoffed. He turned back to Arya. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"No… It was a mistake. I'm really sorry," Arya said.

"Take your sorry and shove it!" the rich kid spat. "You're just jealous because you're poor. Even if you worked your whole life, you wouldn't be able to afford this watch."

Arya clenched his fists but stayed silent.

"I bet your parents are just like you—beggars, right? Probably left you to rot somewhere," the rich kid sneered.

A heavy silence filled the air.

The nurse gasped and quickly called for a doctor.

The doctor arrived and spoke calmly to the rich kid. "I apologize on his behalf. I'll make sure he understands his mistake. Please, give him another chance."

"What an idiot," the rich kid muttered. "Fine. Last chance. But if you come near me again, I'll have you kicked out of this hospital." With that, he stormed off.

The doctor turned to Arya. "Are you okay? Don't take his words to heart." He sighed, checking his watch. "I have other patients to attend to. Take care."

The nurse placed a hand on Arya's shoulder. "I warned you not to go near him. You know what kind of person he is. Just relax, okay? Go to your room and rest. We'll continue your treatment later."

Arya nodded and walked back to his room.

As soon as he shut the door, the rich kid's words echoed in his mind.

"I bet your parents are just like you—beggars, right? Probably left you to rot somewhere."

Arya clenched his teeth, his hands shaking.

For the first time in a long while… I cried.

If my parents were alive… would I be happy too?

But they weren't.

Arya stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection.His eyes were red. He reached up, touching his face, his fingers trembling.

"I can't control myself..." he whispered.

A deep breath. A shaky exhale. But no matter how hard he tried, the emotions wouldn't stop overflowing.

Before, I would never have acted like this, he thought. But after seeing her… my feelings started coming out.

He remembered the last time he cried, when he was younger, after his parents died.

"I cried back then… but now, what is this feeling?"

He paused, staring at his eyes in the mirror, feeling something shift inside him.

"I don't know what this is… but I can't lose hope." He clenched his fists. "I know my future."

He shook his head. I should forget about this. I shouldn't feel like this. I shouldn't cry…

But his eyes betrayed him.

"My eyes are reacting on their own." His voice trembled as his whole body felt different—like a weight was lifting off him.

He felt lighter, freer, and for the first time in a long while, he felt alive.

"She changed me—my feelings, my body, my emotions, my mind—everything."

Then, he froze, realization hitting him like a wave.

"I want to live."

Without thinking, he slapped both of his hands across his face.

"What am I saying? This can't be possible."