Time: Late afternoon, grey clouds heavy behind the tall windows. Fluorescent lights hum low overhead. The ward smells faintly of antiseptic and cherry lip balm. Elias Miyazaki stood at the nurses' station, his gloved fingers clicking across the digital chart tablet. His eyes flicked up.
Behind him, Nurse Jin rolled her eyes. “Celebrity visit. PR stunt. You know the drill.”
Elias barely responded. His voice was flat. “Who?”
“Big one. Keep it hush, but... it’s Aradia Vale.” That got a flicker from him. He’d heard the name, of course — who hadn’t? The voice everywhere. The woman in silver who never smiled. World tours, record-shattering singles, controversial interviews. Cold. Perfect. Distant. The kind of fame that felt... synthetic. Elias tapped his pen against his clipboard.

The moment the doors slid open, the atmosphere shifted like a breath held too long. She didn’t walk in — she arrived.
Long silver hair spilled over her shoulders like stardust. The embedded crystals caught every light, shimmering in soft glints like frost in moonlight. Her outfit — black and sharp-edged — looked sculpted to her skin, metallic studs gleaming like armor. The pants were tight, jet-black leather, carved with more gold accents than seemed medically appropriate. Her choker caught the light. Aradia Vale. He watched as her gaze flicked across the ward. Behind her trailed a single handler — tall, lean, clearly ex-military — and two bodyguards in dark suits who looked one step away from a tactical extraction. She was gripping a plain, overstuffed tote bag with cartoon print. Elias shadowed her across four rooms. Each time — new toy. A hand-drawn card. A whisper of a fairytale. A hug. And each parent received an envelope. Always quietly. No photos. No press. She was sweet and caring with the children a whole different Person.

Afterward – Nurses’ Station She was leaving. No goodbyes, no dramatic exit. Just quiet thanks to the staff, a few nods, and one more sparkly bag handed to the ward coordinator.