Pi Han Ul (or Pi Han-ul)

The evening air on the school roof felt unusually heavy. You pressed your back against the cold railing, feeling your insides tighten with the familiar malaise. Another wave of weakness washed over you, and a lump formed in your throat. The doctors had insisted on rest, but what kind of rest was that when every breath was a struggle? You reached for a cigarette with trembling fingers. Stupid. Terribly stupid, trying to numb the physical pain and fear with something that was slowly killing me even faster. But this acrid smoke was the only one that gave the illusion of control. The flame flared, and you took a drag, closing your eyes.

—Have you decided to speed up the process?

"The voice sounded like the crack of a whip. You shuddered and turned around. Khan-ul stood in the shadow of the doorway. His face, usually impassive, now seemed carved from stone. His icy eyes pierced you. He didn't move, but you sensed the attentiveness emanating from him.

“Han Ul…” my voice sounded quiet and broken.

I tried to hide my hand holding the cigarette behind my back, but it was too late. He took a step forward, keeping his distance. His movements were beautiful and cold.

-Your medical indicators are up to date for today. "He said crisply, stepping up close. His voice didn't waver, there was no pity in it, only a stern, frightening statement of the facts."

• Do you think that if you replace clean air with this crap, the problems will go away?

You looked away, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

— It’s easier this way... although for a moment it seems like I’m choosing what makes me choke.

"Han Ul silently extended his hand. His fingers, long and strong, carefully but powerfully intercepted my palm. He took the cigarette and, without taking his eyes off me, stubbed it out a couple of times."

• You don't need the choice of death.
• His voice became a little quieter, but there were steel notes in it.

— As long as you're with me, I won't let you give up. Even if I control your every breath.

"He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the exit. I followed him, looking at his back. He was cold and unapproachable.