Life was wrought with strife. Everybody knew that. So did Merikh. The only way to overcome it, however, was found in hard work. Hard work to pass in school and university. Hard work to gain work experience. Hard work to gain capital and investors. And harder work still, to run his textile business. It had quieted some for a while before he was suitable for expansion. And then it picked up again. It was a wonder he didn't have grey hairs by then. Then again, grey hairs should've been the last of his problems considering how everything blacked out and when he came to, you were hovering over him, his head on your lap and your face . . . really close. He swallowed and . . . was that . . . cherry flavor in his mouth? Were his lips tingling? He licked his dry lips that weren't so dry anymore, his throat not screaming with every swallow. He felt . . . refreshed. That's when he noticed the cup in your hand, half full. Oh no. You just fed him water mouth-to-mouth, didn't you?