The car came to a gentle stop in front of a small two-story building nestled on a quiet street.
A neat little sign hung above the entrance, swaying slightly in the morning breeze: Kana Medical Clinic.
Kana unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she stepped out.
Venzel followed, shutting the driver's door behind him with a soft thunk. He rounded the car and caught up to her with easy strides.
Kana glanced at him with a quiet smile. "You didn't have to walk me in."
Venzel simply shrugged. "I wanted to."
They walked side by side to the clinic door. Kana pulled out a small keyring from her coat pocket and paused at the lock.
Her fingers hesitated a moment.
Venzel watched her, then leaned in gently. "You okay?"
Kana nodded, turning the key. "Yeah… just feels like I've been gone a week, not a day."
The lock clicked. She pushed the door open slowly.
The little bell above the entrance gave a soft jingle.
Inside, sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting warm squares across the polished floor.
The clinic was spotless—quiet, calm, with the faint scent of disinfectant and a vase of cheerful daisies she always kept near the reception bell, still fresh as if waiting for her.
Kana stepped in and let out a breath. "Still here."
Venzel stood at the doorframe, his hands in his pockets, looking around. "It's cozy."
She turned to face him. "Thanks for bringing me."
He took a step in, brushing a bit of dust off the top of a chair near the entrance.
"You sure you're okay?" he asked again, voice softer this time.
Kana looked into his eyes, then reached out and gently straightened the collar of his jacket. "I'm better now."
They stood in silence for a moment, him in the doorway, her in the soft light of her clinic.
Then Kana smiled. "Go on, or your dad's going to think you crashed his car."
Venzel chuckled and slowly backed out, hand rising in a lazy wave. "Call me when you're free. I'll come pick you up again."
Kana stood at the door, watching him go. The bell chimed once more as it shut.
Venzel slid into the driver's seat and pulled the door shut.
The familiar creak of the old car door was oddly comforting.
He adjusted the seat slightly, but instead of turning the ignition, he just sat there, hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, staring blankly through the windshield.
Then, like a slow ripple across water, the world in front of him shifted.
The windshield turned hazy, the view of the street dissolving into soft pixelation.
It cleared seconds later… but what he saw wasn't the city road.
It was rows of farmland. His game.
"…Can it be turned off?" he muttered, blinking and sitting up straighter.
Poof! The image vanished instantly.
He blinked again, confused. "Wait, really?"
"…Appear?" he said hesitantly.
Poof!The farm screen shimmered back into view like a hologram floating before him.
Venzel leaned forward slowly, poking at the air in front of him. His finger passed right through it, but the screen stayed.
He rubbed his eyes.
"I need to sleep more.".
"Oh yeah, I was supposed to sell… a hundred kilograms of potatoes?" he scratched his head. "Buy potato see–"
Before he could finish the sentence, a golden shimmer swirled in the screen.
[1x Potato Seed Pack Acquired]
His game coin balance dropped in the game screen.
"Wait, it bought it, just like that!?" he gasped. "This thing is voice activated?!"
He stared at the seeds now showing on the screen like items in a shop window.
"Plant them," he commanded sarcastically, expecting nothing.
The soil on the screen burst into neat little plots, tilled in perfect lines.
The potato seeds dropped down one by one, like popcorn kernels falling into a pan.
"…Okay. That's kinda cool."
He leaned back, watching.
"Water them," he said casually.
Suddenly, a floating watering can appeared, zipping around like a drone, tipping itself dramatically over each plot.
"Bro," Venzel muttered, eyes wide. "Is this… an automatic farming game?"
He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, arms crossed.
"…Wonder if it can cook too."
Nothing happened.
"Yeah, didn't think so."
Venzel was completely immersed in the shimmering game screen, watching tiny cartoon sprouts pop out of pixel soil like eager toddlers at roll call.
He smiled to himself, muttering, "Farm level 1, huh? Feels like I'm back in the trenches."
KNOCK KNOCK.
"GAH—!"
Startled, Venzel jerked up and smacked his head hard against the car's ceiling.
Thump.
He winced, hand instantly flying to the crown of his head. "Ow—owowow… who the—?"
He turned and peered through the window.
Outside, standing in the morning light, was Kana, her white doctor's coat gently fluttering in the breeze.
Her stethoscope dangled like an accessory, but her worried smile was all real.
Venzel's breath caught for a second. It wasn't just the pain from his skull anymore, it was her.
He fumbled with the door, swung it open, and stepped out. "You scared the pixels outta me."
Before he could say more, Kana stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
"I totally forgot about your hand," she said, her voice soft against his chest. "If you're not rushing back now… can I take a look? My patients won't be coming in for a bit as well."
Her concern wrapped around him tighter than her arms did.
Venzel softened. He slowly raised one hand and gently rubbed her hair, fingers combing through the soft strands with affection.
"Alright," he said with a lopsided smile. "Let's go, Doctor Kana."
Kana leaned back, squinting up at him. "Doctor Kana sounds so strict. I'm gonna prescribe you hugs and rice cakes."
Venzel smirked. "Better than injections."
She grinned, took his hand, the same one with the golden grain mark faintly glowing on the skin and began walking back toward the clinic door, her fingers gently wrapped around his wrist, treating it as though it might crack like glass.