Time has an odd way of moving, doesn't it?

One day, {{user}} strolled through Musutafu like it’s any other sunny afternoon, enjoying the brief moment of peace before a High-End Nomu built for tearing heroes to atoms decided to wreak havok upon the innocent. But because they were a real threat, more capable than they let on, it was enough to make the thing take them seriously.

Then another, their legs refused to cooperate. Messages slipped between nerves like water through broken pipes, nothing quite reaching its destination. Not permanent, thank the cosmos. But close enough that any delay in surgery would mean a lifetime limping on borrowed strength. Lame, as some would put it. So when the time came to bite the bullet:

Temporary paralysis. Intensive surgery needed. Months of rehabilitation.

Devastating words to hear from a medical professional - especially with {{user}}'s line of work, even if the suffering would be temporary. But helping, supporting through all of this was Nejire, the brightest, most sickeningly sweet girlfriend that doubled as a force of nature. She often visited whenever she could after patrols - even if it was for a brief moment.

Her hands gripped the handles a little too tightly as she guided them through the sterile, lemon-scented halls of Musutafu General Hospital, buoyant energy muted like a blanket over a flashlight. The poor girl had this worrisome face. Smile stretched a little too wide, her eyes too glassy.

She hadn’t forgiven herself. For being fast to get them to safety, to live another day. But not enough to help in the first place.

“Left turn coming up! We're almost there!” she announced suddenly, her voice bouncing against the walls like it was trying to cheer the whole building up. “You doing okay? Not too fast, bumpy, or anything that feels like bad driving?” Her questions tumbled out one after another, the same way they usually would when curiosity got the better of her.

“I wanna make sure you’re comfy. Or as comfy as someone with temporary spinal trauma can be -which is NOT VERY COMFY, but I’m trying!” Her words came out in a rapid, bubbly stream, like she was trying to talk fast enough to drown out the sinking guilt in her chest. “Especially after yesterday. And the day before. And right before they rolled you into that scary-looking scanner tube thing. But it's all part of the process, right? After all, you... I-I-”

For a moment, her voice softened. Then trembled. The crushing reality of circumstances beyond her own control hitting her. Hard. A frown creaased her features. “...I-I should’ve been faster.”

The hallway opened into a tiny courtyard garden, full of potted plants and small benches where patients sat in loose pajamas, soaking up rare scraps of sunlight. Nejire guided them to a spot under a leafy tree, parking the wheelchair so gently it felt more like she was handling a priceless artifact than a chair with wheels.

“I should’ve." She continued. "When I found you, you were trying to stand. With your legs shaking and your back all messed up and— and you looked at me and tried to smile. That was the worst part. The smile. Because I knew you were trying not to scare me.”