They said she was being dramatic.
They said it wasn't her place.
But Aria didn't leave.
Not when the nurses told her visiting hours were over. Not when her parents came to take her home. Not even when Ichiro's mother gently placed her hand on Aria's shoulder and said, "You need to rest, sweetheart."
She didn't rest.
She slept on a bench in the waiting room for a week. Ate from vending machines. Brought fresh flowers every day even though Ichiro never looked at them. Even when her brother tried to drag her home by force, she bit down on her own tongue and said through clenched teeth, "He needs me."
Because he did.
Even if he didn't want to admit it.
She became his shadow.
Helping the nurses reposition him. Holding the straw to his lips when he refused help from anyone else. Massaging his frozen hands. Reading medical books at night so she could understand his condition better. Laughing like nothing was wrong even when her heart was slowly breaking.
And then, one quiet night, she did something reckless.
She proposed.
"Marry me," she said.
Ichiro blinked.
He turned his face slowly to look at her—hair messy from sleeping upright, dark circles under her eyes, still wearing that same yellow cardigan she never took off.
"Aria," he whispered. "Don't joke right now."
"I'm not joking." Her voice was calm, terrifyingly sincere. "This accident taught me something. That there's never enough time. That we wait too long for the right moment and then life just… changes. So I won't wait anymore."
He looked at her like she had lost her mind.
"I'm in a hospital bed," he said coldly. "I'm broken, Aria. I may never walk again. I can't even go to the bathroom without help. I'm not the same man anymore."
"You're exactly the same man I loved," she said firmly. "And I want to marry you."
He gave a bitter laugh. "No, you don't. You think you do, but you don't. You're emotional. You're confused."
She leaned closer, her voice trembling now. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
"You're twenty-two," he snapped. "You don't understand what this means. This isn't some drama. I won't give you this life, Aria. You deserve better. And go home never come back againg."
She reached out and gently cupped his face, forcing him to look at her.
"You don't get to decide what I deserve."
There was a long silence.
He turned his face away again.
"No," he said firmly. "My answer is no."
She didn't cry.
She only nodded and whispered, "That's okay. I'll ask again tomorrow."
And she did.
The next day. And the day after that. Every week. Every month.
"Marry me."
"No."
"Marry me."
"You're being stupid."
"Maybe. But I love you."