Way too patient

I passed out again.

Atsunori opens his eyes to the familiar hospital ceiling. Weeks have gone by since his last stay, but the place still feels like his own private hotel room.

A quick glance at the bedside clock—11:50 PM—then at the date.

Twelve hours at most—could be worse.

Slowly, he pushes himself upright, but the pain he expects never comes. If anything, its absence feels suspicious.

This isn't his regeneration at work. He presses the call button by the bed. While waiting, he unwraps the meal left on the tray beside him and eats mechanically, barely tasting it, intent only on getting his strength back.

Shortly after he finishes, the door opens. A woman in a white coat rolls in on her electric wheelchair, moving with quiet ease while taking sips from a bottle of water.

"Good evening, Atsunori. How are you feeling?"

"Did you use your magic on me again?"

"I thought it important to have you back in service as soon as possible, considering what happened this morning."

"You know I'd get the same result with a proper meal and an hour to focus my power. Save your strength for those who really need it—like the victims from today."

"Would you rather have stayed unconscious for another day or two."

"I… not really, but… fine. You're right."

Two days would gnaw at him for weeks. Time better spent contributing, especially now.

Yet she's already given so much—the chair, the coat that no longer hangs quite the same, the faint scent of antiseptic—and still she offers more, piece by piece, for the family's sake.

Still, what's done is done. The least he can do is make good use of the time she's saved him.

"Besides, there weren't any victims needing the special treatment," she adds.

"What? How? A whole building collapsed."

"Apparently the fire alarm went off a few minutes before the explosion. Everyone was evacuated safely."

So at least the attacker wasn't purely homicidal. That wouldn't make his punishment any lighter though.

Next on the list of priorities is…

"Where's the hood? It belonged to the perpetrator, and it's an important clue."

"Suspected as much. We've kept it in a plastic bag, untouched. Should I have it sent to our Investigation Department?"

"Yes, and tell them to contact me as soon as they find anything."

"I'll give them your new number. It's in the bag on the floor with your clothes."

"Thanks."

With that taken care of, he suddenly remembers another, less urgent topic.

"I assume a foreign girl called the ambulance. Do you have her contact info?"

"No, but you can just go visit her."

"What do you mean? She wasn't hurt."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

After a quick change of clothes—including his amulet and a jacket that hides his tattoos—Atsunori heads over to Avery. Unlike his compact, exclusive room, she occupies one of many beds in a public ward, sharing the space with a few other patients, some doing better than others.

As soon as she notices him, she lifts one of her arms, wrapped in a supportive brace

"Hi, hi, Atsun, how are you feeling? Looking pretty good."

"Are you dumb?"

A few patients glance over, but Atsunori's look sends them back to their own business.

"No…? Where did that come from?"

"You carried a man twice your size on your back. Do tell me your brilliant plan, because I can't make sense of it."

"Well, for starters you fainted, needed a fair bit of help. Second, I couldn't leave you in the cave, the entrance could've collapsed again at any minute. And lastly… no, actually, that's it. Pretty solid argument, if you ask me."

"And it was worth spraining your back and every tendon in your body? How did you even stay conscious through all that?"

It was the same question that's been nagging him ever since he learned she'd followed him through the entire chase. He hadn't seen the culprit clearly, but he could tell they were in good shape. This girl, though—average build, if not a bit underdeveloped.

"Meh, pain is just pain. The good thing is you're all good and… say, how come you look perfectly fine already?"

"I've got a fast metabolism." He never bothers with a proper excuse, and most people know better than to pry. "Just give me a straight answer. Why go that far to help me?"

"Because I like helping people."

She stares at him, smiling as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Nothing else?"

"Nope. Don't you know helping people is its own reward?"

A pinch to the bridge of his nose.

"By any chance, you wouldn't happen to have rich parents, would you?" he asks.

"You recognize my family name?"

"Not at all. Just had a hunch. But if you keep acting this way, others are going to take advantage of you, and one day you'll run into the wrong kind of people."

Who am I to be giving lessons to a grown ass woman?

"Is that so? Tehee!"

"This isn't funny. Are you really that naive?"

"I wasn't laughing at what you said, but at what it means you said it. For someone who looks like the wrong kind of people, you, mister Atsunori, are actually quite the teddybear."

"Are you mocking me!?"

A patient's wince makes him aware of his volume. His next words come softer. "We'll continue this later."

"Okey-dokey, see you later, Atsun."

Atsunori leaves, holding himself back so he doesn't tear the doorknob off.

He's faced the toughest brutes the streets can offer—and made most of them cry like children. Yet this woman, likely some pampered girl, just stands in his face and smiles like she isn't facing the most dangerous man of her life.

"She's an interesting one, I'll give you that," the doctor says, appearing beside him.

"Tell me, are all foreign rich brats like her, or is she just an anomaly?"

"Hard to say. I don't know much more than you on that front."

Still, Atsunori owes her more than he'd like to admit—both for the amulet and for helping him against anyone's better judgement.

"How long until she's fully recovered?"

"Anywhere from three to five weeks."

Yeah, figured as much…

He clears his throat.

"I hate to ask this, but could you—"

"She really left an impression, didn't she? I can't remember the last time you asked me for that favor."

"I owe her that much, at the very least. And I'm really thankful to you as well. I can't begin to imagine how hard it must be."

"Oh please. Don't treat me like some tragic victim. I chose this power knowing what it meant. I still don't regret it, and as long as I can keep saving lives and supporting the family, I doubt I ever will, even when I can't hold my own chopsticks."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Atsunori walks back in the room where Avery rests, this time carrying a plate with a sandwich.

"Here. Sorry for how I acted earlier."

"Oh! Apology accepted, thanks." No hesitation—she dives right in. "What's this by the way? It tastes like salmon but's feels… fleshier."

"It's salmon, just prepared differently. I don't know the details."

"If you say so."

With none of the manners you'd expect from a rich girl, the sandwich vanishes in record time. She then turns toward him expectantly, as if she knows he has something to say.

"So, listen," he begins, "I've come to understand that despite your… rather impulsive tendencies, you do think things through. But you still went too far for me and shouldn't make a habit of that."

"Weird way to say thanks, but you're welcome."

Atsunori rolls his eyes. Unbothered, she lets out a giggle and keeps going.

"Also, you do realize that as much as I ran and pushed myself and carried you, you went overboard for me too."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were injured, or at least exhausted enough to pass out, but still insisted on clearing the exit alone."

"You'd have just gotten in my way."

"Sure, sure. Don't worry, I eat excuses for breakfast. They're amusingly tasty."

"What's that even supposed to mean?"

"That we can move on to what you actually came here to say. So go on."

This brat…

"Alright, look. I don't want you tangled up with me, but I still owe you. I know people. Can get you around, find a better place to stay, get into certain parties or whatever it is kids do these days. So think it over. One request, within reason, then we go our separate ways. No more favors for the sake of it. Clear?"

"Whatever floats your boat. But I'm still stuck here for a while, so you'll have to wait."

"Actually, you're not that injured. The doctor told me you didn't sprain anything, I just jumped to conclusions. You'll be discharged tomorrow."

"I see…" She grins, smug as ever. "Okay, cool. Goodnight and see ya tomorrow."

As Atsunori nods and turns to leave, she makes a playful motion of munching on another sandwich.

I'm being way too patient with her.