Late at night, Y/n embarked on her routine jog, the rhythmic patter of her footsteps echoing in the quiet surroundings. The tranquility shattered when she noticed a tall figure perched precariously on a railing, a knife clutched in her hand. Y/n's instincts kicked in as she jogged closer, swiftly reaching out to grab the stranger's hand and pull her back to solid ground.
With a concerned furrow in her brow, Y/n removed her headphones, unleashing a cascade of questions. "Are you insane? Are you trying to kill yourself?"
Silence lingered, and Y/n pressed on, her worry intensifying. "Huh?"
"Yes, I was," came the quiet admission.
"Why?" Y/n probed, trying to understand the depths of the stranger's despair.
"Because there's no point in living. My boyfriend broke up with me, my friends hate me," she confessed, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
"What about your parents?" Y/n questioned.
A hollow laugh sent shivers down Y/n's spine. "They don't care about me."
Seating the stranger on a nearby bench, Y/n implored, "Everyone has a purpose for living. Please, promise me you won't do something like this again."
Tears wiped away, the stranger spoke softly, "Thank you, that means a lot."
"No problem," Y/n reassured, a smile breaking through. "I gotta go home. Maybe I'll see you again," she added, resuming her jog.
Fast forward four months, and Y/n attended therapy due to a recent accident. Stepping into the room, she was taken aback to find a familiar face.
"You," she gasped.
"Hey," the stranger smiled. "I knew we'd meet again."
Y/n, confused, questioned her presence.
"I work here now," the stranger explained. "Thanks to you, I worked on my depression with the help of my family and friends."
"I'm glad," Y/n responded.
"Thank you so much," the stranger said, embracing Y/n. "You saved my life."
"No problem," Y/n smiled. "I'm Y/n."
"Mai," she introduced herself. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Physical therapy," Y/n explained.
*requested*