The next morning, the first thing Hanamaru Hanabi saw when she opened her eyes was a stranger's ceiling.
The room was filled with the scent of morning, and the gauzy curtains danced in the sunlight, light and airy like the wind.
This was a single-patient room.
Hanamaru Hanabi half-lowered her eyelids, letting out a gentle hum a girl might make upon waking.
She had almost slept her head off that night, and her head was still pounding painfully.
Her gaze followed the IV drip up to the half-bottle of clear liquid hanging from the stand, and the tiny drops fell evenly in the ampoule bottle in the middle of the tube.
The girl's violet eyes blankly stared upwards, and only after a while did she realize that what happened last night was not a dream.
She turned her head to look around the room and finally understood that she was in a hospital.
Although the air in this private room was nice, if she sniffed carefully, she could still faintly smell the disinfectant.
