Chapter 35

The consciousness kept flickering on and off, and amidst that, the color of the ceiling changed.

From a somewhat yellowish white to a pure, pristine white.

I had never been to the Health Room before, but somehow, I knew.

Ah, I’ve arrived, I thought.

The professor placed me on something soft and covered me with a blanket.

My vision, unfocused and blurry like looking through water, began to catch glimpses of people moving busily around.

Something was attached to my arm, something was placed over my face, and as several people fussed over me, my gaze drifted elsewhere.

The professor was saying something to a woman in a white coat who had walked out from inside.

Is that the Health Teacher?

The woman’s eyes turned toward me, barely managing to keep my eyes open.

When our eyes met, I could see a slight hint of surprise in her reaction.

Pushing the professor aside, she approached me, covered my eyes with her palm, and whispered.

“If you’re tired, you should sleep. Don’t force yourself to stay awake.”

But I’ve slept enough.

I tried to open my mouth to respond, but the sudden rush of air made it impossible to make any sound.

Was that a respirator covering my face?

Come to think of it, I did have trouble breathing before I collapsed.

Not being able to move my arms made it incredibly difficult to express myself.

To make matters worse, the coolness from her soft hand was soothing the heat around my eyes, making me feel incredibly comfortable.

I’m sleepy.

I might just fall asleep like this.

My memory cuts off around there.

I must have succumbed to the overwhelming drowsiness.

***

The sound of paper rustling periodically reached my ears.

The veil over my mind gradually began to clear.

How many times have I collapsed and woken up?

It feels like I’ve repeated this three or four times in a day, and I’m starting to get sick of it.

How did my body end up like this?

It might be hard to believe now, but as a child, I wasn’t particularly sickly.

I had no physical talents, but I grew up with just as many minor illnesses as any other kid.

My body must have started deteriorating after I was taken by the organization, but I can’t quite pinpoint when.

They abused healing magic so much that I wonder if there was ever a chance for my body to break down.

Of course, since the wounds didn’t leave scars, they probably didn’t hold back.

Is there a limit to healing magic?

If it only makes things look healed, isn’t that more cruel than not using it at all?

Using it once or twice is one thing, but I practically lived off it.

What’s the difference between that and slowly killing someone with prolonged pain?

Well.

They’re demons, after all. They wouldn’t care about such things.

I let out a small chuckle, and the sound of paper rustling from the right stopped.

I turned my eyes to look, and there sat the woman in the white coat.

She was sitting in a modern-looking chair, legs crossed, reading a book.

“You’re awake. Nod slightly if you can hear me. It’ll be hard for you to speak.”

Without thinking, I tried to open my mouth but ended up nodding instead.

The respirator was still on.

I don’t feel like my breathing is that bad—can’t they take it off?

As I fidgeted with the respirator using the hand without the IV, the woman sighed and pulled my hand away.

Ugh, this is uncomfortable.

“The kids who brought you here left a while ago. They made me promise to take care of everything, even the nursing and chores.”

That’s a relief.

If they were still here, it would’ve been unbearable.

One act of kindness without expecting anything in return is enough.

“Why do I have to do all this when there are nurses? Ugh.”

She made a tired face and tossed the book she was holding to the back.

I caught a glimpse of the title—it looked professional and headache-inducing.

No wonder she’s so tired if she’s reading that in her free time.

Then, she pulled out a stack of papers tucked beside the bed and quickly flipped through them, furrowing her brow.

“So, the test results… What on earth did you do? I’m curious how your body ended up like this.”

Yeah, me too.

I’m curious too.

I thought I’d been taking care of my health.

If trying not to die counts as taking care of myself, then sure.

“Your organs are on the verge of failure, and that’s the best-case scenario.

Some are almost beyond recovery, especially your lungs and heart.

Your blood volume is only two-thirds of a normal person’s. You’re malnourished.

Your bones are so brittle, they might break at the slightest touch.”

It’s worse than I thought.

I guess there’s a reason the respirator is on.

As she recited the results matter-of-factly, her gaze grew colder.

It was the kind of look you’d give a patient with a terminal illness.

If I just got up from this bed and went back to my daily life, I’d probably die naturally in a few months.

That wouldn’t be so bad.

“If we leave you like this, you’ll die. And I’m not joking.”

I got confirmation right after thinking that.

It’s not exactly good news, but I feel oddly pleased.

As I smiled at the not-so-bad feeling, the woman gave me a strange look.

It wasn’t pity or concern—it was more like she was observing a patient.

Has she already started seeing me as her patient?

“For now, you’ll be hospitalized.”

Ah.

The verdict I absolutely didn’t want to hear has been delivered.

My body, my expression froze.

The decent mood I had just moments ago plummeted off a cliff.

So, right now.

She’s telling me to leave my refuge and be confined in an unfamiliar space?

Bad memories started resurfacing.

I could picture the expression on my face without even seeing it.

I tried to remove the respirator and sit up to protest.

Before I could utter a word, I started coughing.

Even though it poured out and sank, I couldn’t breathe.

“Ah, hic. Hoo… Uh, huh…?”

“Everything the doctor does has meaning, patient? …Don’t tire yourself out, just lie down.”

It felt like my lungs had shrunk to the size of a handful. It wasn’t this bad even right before I collapsed, so why now?

The woman sighed, put on a respirator, and pressed my shoulders to lay me back down.

“Even if you say no, I’ll force you to stay, so just know that. Ah, Albe paid for everything.”

I gasped for breath, completely knocked out. Only then did I realize how long it took for my body to stabilize to the state it was in just before.

In the end, I could only silently watch her leave the room without being able to say a word.

“Ah, right.”

Just before disappearing beyond the door, she turned back towards me.

“I’m Arlezienne Kayan, the health officer at the academy. Nice to meet you, Princess Remia Adelian.”

Then, she neatly brushed her platinum hair that barely reached her shoulders and gave me a dignified noble-style bow. Her deep blue eyes, which seemed like they could suck you in, shone coldly.

Clutching my chest and barely managing to steady my breath, I could only stare at her in shock.

What is she doing all of a sudden? It’s so unlike her.

“…I heard you value etiquette, so I put in some effort. It’s troublesome if you look at me with those eyes.”

As if it bothered her too, Arlezienne added with a pout.

Valuing etiquette? I stopped forcing that on others a long time ago, back when I was in the organization. How does she know about that?

For some reason, I didn’t like this woman. And it wasn’t just because she forced me to be hospitalized.

Really.

“Anyway, I’ll be back soon, so rest up. If something hurts, ring the bell.”

That seemed to be all she had to say, as she left the room. Only then could I calm my tense mind.

Of course, it was only my mind that could calm down. My physical state was the worst, especially after the drowsiness from the respirator wore off.

My chest ached so much I couldn’t even sigh. The fever was less than before, but it hadn’t gone down. I stared at the ceiling, gripping the blanket tightly every time the pain came, then releasing it when it subsided. The hand with the IV was the only one I could leave still, and before I knew it, blood was flowing back.

Lying there, sweating coldly, I closed my eyes as sleepiness washed over me again.

Why have I become such a sleepyhead? I didn’t like it, but in my current state, it was a welcome escape.

As I drifted into sleep, worries about the future flooded in. What should I do now?

Given my condition, it seems I won’t be able to leave the hospital for at least a week. Can I stay sane that long?

…No way.

Even here, spending the night comes with many difficulties. A day or two might be manageable, but any longer and I’d either go crazy or wither away.

There’s no knife here. I don’t like self-harming with nails; it leaves a mess.

Maybe I can sneak a syringe or scalpel from somewhere. It’s a hospital, after all, so there might be a chance.

Ahaha.

Yeah, worrying about this stuff means I’m done for.

If the conditions aren’t right, I should just stop, but here I am thinking of ways to cheat. If it weren’t for the respirator, I might have laughed. What a sight.

I really want to quit, but just in case, I should look around for any sharp objects. Just in case.

If I find one, I’ll use it, yeah.

Just in case.

That’s all.

—

“Patient, sorry to bother you while you’re resting, but could you wake up for a moment?”

In the midst of a light sleep, I heard the health teacher’s voice and slightly opened my eyes. My condition wasn’t great, so I felt a bit annoyed at her for waking me.

“Your friend is here.”

I don’t have friends.

I couldn’t answer, but I frowned instead. There’s no one I can call a friend. I can say that much for sure.

“Not a friend? Who comes to visit if not a friend?”

“Something like that. More than a stranger, less than a friend…?”

“What kind of vague relationship is that… Anyway, if the patient doesn’t want to, I’ll send them away.”

“Ah, um. P-Princess… Are you going to send them away…?”

From the voice, I could tell who it was, even if I didn’t know how they found out.

It’s Sena again. Well, she seemed close with Maid Ai, so she must have heard the news.

I shook my head slightly.

She came all this way, so there’s no need to refuse to see her. Sena had become quite familiar to me by now.

That phrase, “more than a stranger, less than a friend,” might actually be accurate.