“Luna, will you be my partner for formal?” Jinki asked.

He knew that she detested such occasions. Sudden regret flushed his system when she averted her gaze and shook her head.

“Sorry… I’m sorry, s-s-sorry, sorry…” Luna murmured, nuzzling into the crook of Jinki’s neck. Clumsy fingers gripped tightly onto the back of his t-shirt, afraid of letting go, afraid of losing him. Her actions were desperate, acted out of guilt and remorse.

“Hush, hush, it’s okay.” He reassured, voice just above a whisper.

Warm liquid dampened his shoulder. Quickly, he lifted Luna’s head and kissed away the tears. The salty liquid pulled at his heartstrings. He had broken his promise. He had made her cry.

Releasing himself from Luna’s embrace, Jinki picked her up from her wheelchair and carried her onto the couch.

“If only,” she sobbed, “if only I could walk.”