Slipping... His friend was slipping. She was out of his reach. He could not run to her and comfort her as he could have if she was in the same country as her.

No, she was too far. SM would not be able to give him the leeway, even if they wanted to.

He was at a loss. He could well lose his friend soon. His heart clenched, a weight fell upon his shoulders.

A void, that was it. It was like a void had him in and began to gnaw at his heart, removing, destroying, the emotions that he had. out his life.

He cried that night, cried his heart out and refused to let anyone in his room. He cried until he was hoarse, and none of these emotions were for himself.

Everyone thought it was because he was sad. Everyone thought it was because he felt forgotten, tossed aside because he was not allowed to perform due to his visa, but they were wrong.

He cried because he was afraid. He feared losing his precious friend.

He gathered his frayed emotions and shakily drafted a letter. Word after word he wrote.

"Heaven, please," he muttered as he wrote.

Soon, the paper was filled with phrases, rarely full sentences, with blocks of ink in between. Full blocks of ink dominated the page, but finally, he was able to finish.

Quickly, he pulled out another sheet and wrote down the words he's put together and sealed it shut in an envelope.

Days later, a letter arrived for him, and the first words that greeted his eyes were Thank you, big brother.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he crumpled onto the ground, holding the letter to his heart. Again, he cried, but this time, they were tears of gratefulness, hope and joy.

"Thank Heavens," he muttered.

He read the letter, tears obscuring his view.

She'd let go of the desire to die, but she was still lonely. And she was afraid.

She feared the future and she feared people. She'd closed in on herself and lost her confidence. She trapped herself in a windowless, doorless room in her mind, going through life mindlessly, mechanically.

"But I have hope," he whispered. "You are alive. As long as you are alive, there is a tomorrow. When there's a tomorrow, you can be healed."

He wrote to her once more, his letter full of gratefulness and joy, but most of all, his letter contained his promise. A promise to be there for her, to be her friend. And most of all, a promise to be her big brother, one who would not judge her nor compare her.

He promised to Heaven that he would not.