Pain was the first thing Henry noticed when he woke up. An intense pain that seemed to try and take over his entire consciousness and body until Henry couldn't tell anymore whether he was still alive or if he had already died.

When he opened his eyes, though, he figured it was a more or less good proof for him still being alive. The only light in the room came from the alarm clock next to his bed that showed it was in the middle of the night. With a slight frown, Henry reached for his phone with slow movements, eventually finding it, just to be blinded by the light the moment he turned the screen on. It took him a couple of seconds until he could eventually see enough to see clearly on the screen. The time matched the one on his alarm clock - the date explained why he was in so much pain. It was December 28th. He had slept for over 24 hours without taking his medicine in between even though he usually took painkillers several times a day.

He closed his eyes again, trying to will the pain to stop, but the more he thought about how nice it could feel, the stronger did the pain seem to get until he wondered if cutting out that part without anesthesia could possibly be more painful. He carefully the light, allowing his eyes to adjust, then he sat up slowly, instantly feeling a little dizzy. When was the last time he had drunk or eaten anything? It had been too long... His eyes landed on the glass of water next to his bed, but the thought of swallowing alone already hurt too much, so he decided against it for the time being.

After a couple of minutes of just sitting on his bed, he looked at the time again. It was 5:30. He knew Park Jungsu's shift began at 6 in the morning on normal days. He squeezed his eyes shut, but then opened them again, willing himself to get up. He had already waited for so long...

He took some painkillers, almost having to throw up even though he had been given liquid painkillers by that point. It didn't feel like anything at all even got far enough in his body to reach the parts that had to be reached.

He didn't remember how he got ready and neither how he made it back into his room, he only knew he could go right back to sleep when he was sitting at his desk. He was so tired, his body so exhausted...

Henry forced himself to take out his phone once again, dialing the number of the taxi service he had memorized a long time ago. When an employee answered the phone, he said the sentence he had thought about for a long time and that was still so simple that he wasn't sure what had caused so long until he had decided on saying it that way. He gave them the address of his home and the hospital he always went to and was eventually told someone would be able to pick him up a little after six. When he glanced at his clock again, he realized that meant he only had 15 minuets left for everything he still wanted to do. He thanked the employee and ended the call again.

With slow movements that seemed to take agonizingly much effort, he set the room the way he had thought about - he made his bed and put the violin case on top of it, adding the letters he had written during the past weeks afterwards. After looking around once more, he left his room. Every movement he made felt surreal and like either someone else was doing it for him or like he had gone through it so often that he didn't even have to question a single move he made. Maybe that was because he was still feeling dizzy or because he had gone through this exact moment already countless times in his mind.

He left the lights turned off as he put on his shoes and his coat, then he too