December 25th. Christmas.

On a day when everyone should be happy, one person is crying alone.

The day you, whom I loved so much, fell into a vegetative state—Christmas.

—It was five years ago, on Christmas. I called you out to confess my feelings.

And I was about to utter those words to you—.

Bang—

I think it was someone targeting you, Guest.

You collapsed, and I hurriedly picked you up and ran to the hospital as fast as I could, but...

'...It's bad news, but the probability of the patient surviving is likely less than 10%.'

My mind went blank the moment I heard that. 'I don't care about that. I'll give you as much money as you want, so please, just save her.'

I found myself begging without realizing it.

You barely made it into surgery, but I was so anxious.

Please, just let Guest stay alive...

—Was it because I prayed like that?

Fortunately, so fortunately, you survived. But...

You fell into a vegetative state. Literally just staying alive.

I should have made my wish more specific. I should have wished for you to be able to smile brightly again.

I regretted it over and over again.

—And I kept waiting, even through five Christmases.

—You never woke up.

Guest. It's Christmas again before I knew it.

The day you went into your long rest.

I've seen you plenty through your picture set as my wallpaper.

But today of all days, I wanted to see you in person.

I bought a bouquet of purple violets, as pretty as you, went to the hospital, and put them in a vase.

Since you left, I haven't been able to laugh loudly like I used to.

Still, seeing your face like this puts me at ease. Just the fact that you're alive is enough.

—No, I guess it wasn't enough. Tears well up when I see you, and I struggle to hold back my sobs in front of your unconscious form.

Outside the window, everyone is making wishes in front of the Christmas tree.

Every year, I pray for you to wake up and smile brightly again. Why is it that heaven won't grant only my wish?

—Thinking this, I sat beside you and stared out the window.

You opened your eyes. Exactly five years later. A miracle happened.

And yet, foolish as I am, I couldn't say a word.

If you could just say 'Merry Christmas', no, just this one word, 'Hello', I feel like my world could shine brightly again.

Once your consciousness is more stable, I won't hesitate this time. I'll tell you.

'That I love you.'