Chapter 61

The dawn, filled with self-talk and knife practice, lasted almost until sunrise.

I kept carving lines into my arm until I felt like my body was at its limit, then passed out and fell asleep.

Even though I fell asleep like that, I didn’t get a good night’s rest.

Whether it was my stomach hurting, my wrist hurting, or my head hurting—something was definitely off.

Anyway, little aches here and there were annoying me, and it was clear I was in a grumpy state.

After tossing and turning, I woke up to find it was early morning.

The ambiguous light filtering through the cloudy sky hit my eyelids.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I lifted my arm to check the wounds.

The scabs in straight lines on my left wrist caught my eye.

A sigh naturally escaped my mouth.

“…Why did I do so much?”

Even if I covered it with a bandage, it would definitely be noticeable.

I could already picture it: Sena noticing the bandage, asking questions, me failing to dodge the topic, and Sena freaking out.

I’ve been trying to hold back lately, so how did I end up doing this much?

Thinking about it, memories from the previous day came flooding back, and my head started throbbing.

So, I laughed to myself, wondering how Sena would react if she saw this.

Half of it was probably because I was at my lowest, but the other half was genuinely thinking of showing it to her.

…Show this to Sena?

Am I sane?

I must’ve been crazy.

Yeah, I must’ve been crazy for a moment to think like that.

Making Sena worry is something to deal with later, so why am I trying to burden her already?

After calming down a bit, I realized how unstable I was in the early morning.

Even if it’s that time of the month, this seems a bit extreme.

Maybe everything I’ve been bottling up just exploded along with my period.

I don’t know why I’m like this when things have been peaceful lately.

This is troublesome.

If this gets found out, I might get to see their immediate reaction, but dealing with the aftermath will be a pain.

What if Sena turns out like Ariana and tries to lock me up?

Even if it’s just a worry, I can’t help it.

I should’ve held back when I needed to.

Anyway, before heading to school, I needed to take care of the wounds, so I quickly got dressed and headed to the Health Room.

It’s so early, they might not even be open yet.

I don’t know, maybe they’re there.

If not, I’ll just knock on the door until someone pops out.

That’s the kind of person they are.

***

Luckily, I made it to the Health Room without running into anyone.

The Health Teacher, sitting at the table sipping tea as usual, exchanged a quick greeting with me before her eyes immediately went to my wrist.

The teacher frowned deeply.

“What brings you here so early in the morning…? Did you start again?”

“It’s just from yesterday. I was feeling a bit down.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Oh, my period started again.”

At my words, the teacher’s expression turned strange.

It must’ve sounded like I was blaming it on my period.

It’s not like my period is the only reason, though.

I’m not usually this extreme.

Well, it does play a part, but still.

“…I don’t know whether to be glad you’re feeling better or worried that the symptoms are getting worse.”

“It’s not really because of my period. My cramps aren’t that bad.”

“You know it’s not just about the cramps, right? If something feels off, tell me. We can manage it with medication.”

I tilted my head as I watched her shake the pill bottle.

I’m already taking dozens of pills a day—wouldn’t adding more be a problem?

“I think relying on medication for every little discomfort is a bit much, though.”

“Any medication is better than cutting into your body. Stop arguing and just take it.”

“Okay, I will.”

I wasn’t planning to refuse anyway.

It’s not like she’s doing this for money, and she’s clearly looking out for me. The doctor’s word is law.

I nodded obediently like a good kid.

Seeing this, the Health Teacher rested her chin on her hand and sighed.

“You’re good at answering. If only your actions matched.”

Huh, that feels a bit unfair.

I admit I didn’t listen to Ariana, but I’m trying to listen to the teacher.

I come when I’m told, and I’m trying my best to take my meds.

Even if it feels like I’m only trying, the effort counts, right?

With a slightly pouty expression, I said, “I do listen, don’t I?”

The teacher snorted at my words.

“You? Remia Adelian, who makes all sorts of excuses to skip her meds? Who only shows up when it’s convenient for her? You’ve got no conscience.”

Was I like that?

Well, I did skip a few times lately because I’ve been busy hanging out with Sena.

But, for me, happiness in the moment is more important than health.

Even if I work hard to extend my lifespan, I’ll just die soon anyway.

Of course, I wouldn’t say that out loud, but I do prioritize treatment less.

Honestly, I wish the teacher would take things a bit less seriously too.

Like, just treat it as a joke?

If it doesn’t get worse, then it’s fine, right?

Getting help when things get really bad is enough.

Sometimes, it feels like she’s too serious about me, even if she acts indifferent, and it’s a bit overwhelming.

I don’t even know why she’s helping me this much.

With Sena, it might be because of our first meeting, but the teacher has no real motive.

Is it just a sense of duty as a doctor?

But even then, the teacher is from the Kayan family, the same as the professor.

I doubt someone would just stand by and watch their own flesh and blood die out of a sense of duty.

I…

After tilting my head in confusion, I answered nonchalantly.

“It’s only efficient to come when you’re really sick—”

“No! It’s important to come for prevention in the first place! You’re already at the stage of life-sustaining treatment, aren’t you? You know that the reason your body seems fine now is because they’re pouring medication into you to keep it looking that way.”

I had nothing to say about that, so I shut my mouth tightly. Even though the teacher agreed, it was ultimately my request.

Originally, due to neglect, I would have been stuck in long-term hospitalization for the remaining years of my life. But after I pleaded with tears, it was decided that I would endure until the day of graduation with narcotic painkillers and other medications. It was pure stubbornness, with no room for excuses.

Yet, in the end, it was the teacher who gave in. Her reluctant nod, with a twisted expression, looked so painful compared to her usual self.

Honestly, the result was a bit unexpected. I had prepared to be abandoned. She could have just dumped a patient like me who doesn’t listen and doesn’t pay. I don’t know why she indulged my stubbornness.

And then, I felt sorry. It felt like I was exploiting the goodwill of someone who genuinely cared about me, just for my own comfort. If a stranger saw this, they’d probably think I was an ungrateful brat.

I think they’re right. Still, I rationalized it, saying there was no other way. I didn’t want to show Sena my body weakened by illness. I lied, saying I was getting better, and if she found out, it would all be over.

The foundation of the daily life I’m enjoying now is built on so many lies and stubbornness. Objectively, I’m living off the sympathy and goodwill of those around me.

Even this wouldn’t have been possible without the opportunities I’ve had. Maybe I’m just meant to suffer and die.

“What’s so important about graduation that you’re going this far? You probably shortened your lifespan by a year because of this.”

The teacher’s expression turned self-deprecating. A sigh-laden, subdued tone came from her mouth.

“Honestly, I must be crazy to indulge this stubbornness.”

The teacher looked completely drained. It reminded me of the day she gave in to me.

Sneaking glances at her, I quietly opened my mouth.

“…Thank you for helping me.”

I thought it would be better to at least say thanks. Even if it felt futile as a doctor, maybe the patient’s gratitude could somehow make up for it. It was a very impulsive thought.

And it was a selfish thought. I was sure that the teacher, who had been swayed by my tears, would accept this and move on. I clearly knew her goodwill toward me and used it.

I hid my self-disgust with a smile.

“Thanks to you, I’m happy now. I can live the daily life I wanted.”

“…Don’t be happy about this. If you just left the Academy, you could have a more peaceful and relaxed life.”

Her resentful gaze turned toward me, who had rejected her perfectly prepared solution.

Having nothing to say, I just laughed.

“Hehe.”

“Don’t brush it off with a laugh.”

The teacher’s expression darkened.

I feel like I’m seeing a lot of rare expressions today. Maybe it’s because it’s morning and I’m not fully awake.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to provoke her further. I bowed my head deeply.

“You’re so pretty, it’s really troubling…”

“…I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing now? Are you sorry for being pretty? Wow, you’re really self-conscious.”

“I went out of my way to apologize, and this is what I get?”

Hearing my whiny tone, a relaxed smile returned to the teacher’s face.

“I’m telling you to be shameless. It suits you, patient.”

“Where do you see that…?”

“Your face.”

“What’s that supposed to mean…?”

This is ridiculous.

Anyway, I felt somewhat relieved. Even if I’m pretending to be fine, wearing a mask of calm means the depression is at a controllable level. I know this well from experience. Even right now, it’s like that.

…It looks so familiar.

It feels weird, like I’ve become some kind of depression expert.

“Pfft…”

“…Why are you laughing all of a sudden?”

“Just because. I suddenly felt like laughing.”

“Mood swings aren’t a good sign.”

“It’s not that.”

I guess it’s okay to say it now.

She’ll probably listen.

Finally, I made what might be the most important request.

“Please don’t tell Sena about my wrist.”

The health teacher clicked her tongue in exasperation.

“I won’t tell her even if you ask. I can already picture how she’d freak out.”

“That’s a relief.”

A bit disappointing, though.