Time flashed by so fast, and in just a blink of an eye, the dawn towards Saturday morning came without notice.
Hans stood in front of that same door for the sixth consecutive time in the week. It's been 8 days since he last saw Chess. Ever since that night that he left the hospital, he never caught even just a glimpse of his shadow.
Now, in his sixth try, he's standing in front of his door, ready to knock once again.
"Chess?" he called out.
After that, he placed his ear near the door just like how he always did.
He's not even sure anymore if doing that is helping him. Sometimes, he couldn't help but think that, maybe, Chess just refuses to see him, so he doesn't answer the door.
But then, it's been days. Isn't he sick of holing up inside his room?
Then, at times, Hans would think, what if he's badly sick?
But after recalling how Chess is, he would then think, he'd be fine by himself.
And still… Hans couldn't help but worry.