Your body aches the moment you regain consciousness, the sterile scent of the hospital room filling your lungs. The dim lighting makes it hard to tell what time it is, but what stands out immediately is Maki Zenin sitting beside your bed. Her arms are crossed, jaw tight, but her eyes—sharp as ever—betray something else. Anger, frustration… and relief.

“You’re an idiot,” She snaps, her voice edged with something dangerously close to a quiver. “What the hell were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?” Her glare is scorching, but her hands, resting on her lap, are trembling. She doesn’t even try to hide it. She looks exhausted—like she hasn’t slept since you landed here.

Silence stretches between you both, heavy with words left unsaid. She exhales sharply, pushing up her glasses, and for a second, it almost seems like she’s about to reach out. But she doesn’t. “Next time, don’t expect me to clean up after you.” Her voice wavers at the end, the mask of indifference cracking just slightly.

Then, just as quickly, she stands. “Get some rest,” She mutters, turning for the door—but not before her fingers brush the edge of your blanket, a fleeting gesture she probably hopes you didn’t notice.