Beep… Beep… Beep…
Ugh….
My hand flailed out from the sheets like a dying fish—or like when I fumbled for the right clamp while nurse Yun already was holding it out and judging me silently. Now, though, instead of saving a life, I was trying to save my sanity from the unholy screech of my phone alarm.
My palm smacked the nightstand.
Once. (Ow...)
Okay, twice. (OWWWW...)
I knocked over what I'm 90% sure was an empty mug. Eventually, my fingers found the cool rectangle of my phone. I thumbed and swiped away the alarm, and…
Silence. Sweet, beautiful silence.
"Mmmn~" I exhaled and melted back into the bed, tugging my sheets tighter around me until I was cocooned in a marshmallow fortress. Through the slats of the shutters, sunlight sliced into my room in narrow, golden ribbons. Dust motes drifted lazily through those beams like red blood cells through plasma.
The light shifted and flickered every so often with the shadows of maple branches waving across the pane in the morning breeze. I absentmindedly watched them as I tried to blink the sleep from my eyes. They were like ghostly hands, waving hello.
I could almost imagine them teasing me—okay, not like that, shush. Like— 'wake up, lazybones', you know?
I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow, the faint smell of linen and detergent filling my nose. The scent wrapped around me like anesthesia—warm, numbing, impossible to fight.
"…Why am I awake?" My voice was muffled as I mumbled into my pillow.
Think, think… oh. Right. Last night. Night market. Home at three. No wonder my brain felt fogged over, like an ER doctor after a 36-hour shift running on caffeine and spite (yeah, uh… that actually did happen once. It wasn't fun, I can tell you that…)
I pawed at my phone again. My eyes squinted against the screen. Numbers swam in and out of focus like I was trying to read an X-ray without contrast dye.
…10:45.
It wasn't even noon, aka still officially eepy o'clock.
I rolled onto my side with a sigh, gaze wandering across the room. My eyes landed on the glossy curve of my VR headset, sitting smugly on the desk like it owned the place.
Lucidia Online.
…Wait.
Lucidia Online.
Oh. Oh no.
A jolt of panic lit up my chest, sharp as a defibrillator. My pulse spiked so fast I swear my body thought it was mid-code blue. Yesterday—I'd promised that healer girl. Lilith. I told her I'd be back around now. And wasn't I smack in the middle of a quest?
Crapcrapcrap.
My hand shot out, grabbing the headset and tugging it on.
- - -
The world dissolved. A snowstorm of white particles washed over my vision, pixels coalescing into the familiar scene of Dame Airi's forward outpost.
"Mmmn…" I rubbed at my eyes, still hazy. The sun burned bright overhead, sharp enough to sting like a too-strong surgical lamp. Around me, the outpost churned with motion. Soldiers marched, their armour clanking while the tramp of their boots drummed out a constant rhythm.
The whole place bustled like an ER on a bad night, everyone moving in a frenetic dance of controlled chaos.
"Good morning, doctor."
I blinked blearily. A soldier stood ramrod straight in front of me, saluting as if my half-asleep mess of a self deserved that level of respect.
"Hwuh? M'mornin'…" I covered my yawn with my hand as I tried to stand straight. I should give him that sort of courtesy, at least…
"Dame Airi and Ms. Lilith are preparing for the offensive," the soldier said crisply. "The commander's orders are for you to take what you need and meet us again after noon."
"Oh. Right." I rubbed at my eyes again. Sunlight stabbed into them mercilessly, and I squinted against the brightness. Slowly, I raised my hand to cover them while they adjusted. "'Mkay. How's the med tent?"
"They're holding strong, doctor."
Good. At least someone was. Hopefully the team there had settled. "Thanks," I muttered. "I have something to do… I'll be going now."
I pivoted toward the gates, then hesitated, turning back. "Uh… you don't happen to have a horse I can borrow, do you?"
- - -
Half an hour of thigh abuse later, I finally clopped up to Agëmon's gates on a black mare. I waved my alchemist school ID, and the guards barely glanced before waving me through.
Walking under the shadow of the portcullis, the city swallowed me whole, its bloodstream a constant surge of sound and motion. Voices overlapped like arrhythmic heartbeats, vendors hollering like gulls fighting over bread while wagon wheels rattled over against the cobblestones.
NPCs bustled alongside players, shopping, bartering, arguing, laughing. Children—gremlin-tier mini-goblins—darted between legs, shrieking with glee. (Note: I hate kids. Absolutely not a pediatrics doctor, thank you... Keep them away from me, please.)
Boots drummed against stone in a steady rhythm, a thousand-foot percussion heartbeat of noise that turned the streets into a living artery as the all-too-bright sunlight scattered its rays from high above.
I glanced sideways at my HUD. The quest objective still hovered, unchanged: investigate, stop the source of monsters.
Sure.
Easy for a genius, right?
Uh... no. (Crazy, I knowwww~)
Tiny issue: I had never actually fought a single monsters yet, since I'd been inside doing this quest for pretty much ever since I'd started.
Not once. Not even a slime. I was about as prepared for combat as an intern walking into their first surgery with butter knives.
"Ehe~" I smiled in a I'm-so-fucked kind of way to myself.
Clop, clop, clop...
I nudged the mare forward, steering toward the Alchemist school—or where I thought it was, relying on PC-version memory that was about as reliable as a med student's handwriting.
Speaking of the Alchemist school… the cloak Midori lent me was burnt to tatters, and the supply of potions she'd given me for the Doctor had been destroyed, courtesy of Mr. Qirune and his party of assholes (except for Lilith. Lilith is bestest girl.)
I actually shivered remembering Midori's dark eyes the last time she'd pushed me against the wall (It was pretty hot though not going to lie…) That woman had all the bedside manner of a scalpel pressed to your throat.
Cwyge.
She was going to murder me. Not quickly, either—slowly, clinically, with something brewed in a bubbling cauldron. I'd probably end up as Exhibit A in "creative uses of acids."
And if that wasn't enough—let's talk about my clothes.
Or what was left of them.
The devs (may they burn in hell) apparently decided clothing durability was just a fun little mechanic. Which meant right now I was… um… kind of exposed.
Like—seriously exposed.
The charred edges of my uniform left rather… noticeable gaps in some unfortunate places. For example, my shorts. One side had its fabric burnt away a solid inch or two.
Or five.
The fluttering garment tugged almost all the way up to my hip.
My leggings were torn, too… And here I was, riding on the main road of Agëmon on horse. AKA, in plain view for everyone to see. And surprise, surprise, several people turned to look. So yeah. People noticed. Heads turned.
One guy actually double-took. I wanted to melt straight into the saddle, my cheeks burning hotter than the fireballs that had done this to me in the first place.
Devs, if you're listening, your inbox will receive an email so violent it will qualify as a workplace hazard.
I yanked my bangs forward to cover my face, cheeks burning hotter than the fire that had wrecked me, and urged the mare faster.
Air rustled by as I tugged the horse off the main road, down an alley, past greasy smoke and the smell of frying dumplings and damp stone.
My shortcut spat me straight into the central square.
At least here I could dismount—thank god. I slid off the saddle like a dewdrop falling off a leaf, hoping my 'shorts' didn't ride up another inch. I tethered the mare to a post and glanced around the square.
Weird. It wasn't bustling like before.
The newbie crowds that had once clogged every corner had thinned out—probably moved on to shinier higher-level cities. I, on the other hand, was still stuck here. Stuck with this quest.
But thaaaat meant that I was stuck with Midori.
Not that I'd complain. How could I?
I clacked up the stone steps, pulled the heavy door open with a groan, and slipped inside. Ah…. it was so cozy and warm, the air scented with herbs, while filled with the kind of light that made everything feel softer.
It felt like walking into a doctor's lounge at 4 AM, equal parts sanctuary and exhaustion.
But Midori was nowhere in sight.
I crept forward, scanning. Was she upstairs? In her room?
Just thinking of that, I slapped my cheeks and shook my head, trying to fight off the indecent thoughts that surfaced. I didn't want a repeat of last time. My cheeks heated at the memory.
And then I saw her.
Behind the receptionist's counter, slumped over, asleep.
I froze, my pulse spiking like a bad EKG.
Her hair, loose and soft, spilled over her shoulders in a dark waterfall. Each breath lifted it slightly before letting it drift back down, her whole face serene.
She looked… unfair. Too perfect. Like she'd been painted by someone who specialized in making me flustered. (Andpossiblyexcitedbutwhatwhosaidthatit'scrazywow)
I padded closer before my brain could stop me, leaning just enough to hover over her.
I swallowed and my hand lifted on instinct, fingers trembling. I wanted—desperately—to brush the strands of hair from her face, to feel her warmth, to see her face—
…Should I?
…No, I shouldn't.
…But I wanted to.
Just then, Midori shifted in her sleep. "Mmmnnn…"
EEEEEP—
I jumped back, my chest hammering like a defibrillator on max charge. My face went nuclear. But she didn't move more than that, just murmuring, still asleep.
Very, very slowly, like an idiot defusing a bomb, I crept back. My hand shook as I reached forward again, gently brushing her hair aside. The silky strands slid over my skin, revealing her features.
Oh god. Oh god.
She was so pretty up close I thought I might actually go into cardiac arrest. My hand felt like it was on fire from the warmth of her skin.
I crouched down, resting my head on the counter so I could meet her at eye level. My heart was doing somersaults in my ribcage.
"You're so pretty it's unfair…" I whispered before I could stop myself. My voice was barely audible. "Haaa~ what am I even saying?"
Her lashes fluttered.
And then her eyes opened.
She rose lazily from the counter like a cat and stretched her arms overhead with a soft groan. Midori smiled. "Thanks~ You too, Ms. Hiyomi."
…
…
EH?????????
SHE HEARD ME???
- - -
"So… Ms. Hiyomi, are you an exhibitionist who can't resist whispering sweet nothings into people's ears while they're sleeping?"
My whole body went rigid, like someone had just jammed a thermometer full of ice down my spine.
I threw my hands up, flailing, desperate to wave the accusation away. My voice cracked halfway through the denial, and my face was heating so fast I thought steam might come out of my ears. "Wh-wh-wh—EXHIBITIONIST?! I-I wasn't whispering—I wasn't—"
Midori leaned in and—poke.
"Eeep!"
Her cool fingertip pressed against the bare skin of my thigh, right through one of the burnt holes in my tights.
"Y-yaahh—!" I yelped, jerking back so hard I nearly toppled over the counter stool. My thighs clamped shut instinctively, but it was too late. I could feel the chill of her touch, sharp and teasing. "Wh-what the hell was that for?!"
Midori only tilted her head, ignoring my outrage. She rested her chin in her palm, eyes gleaming. "So you're not? Hm. I only assumed. After all, what you wore in yesterday was rather…"
Her eyes traced me again, and I swore I could her gaze like a pair of fingers tugging at every ripped seam, every scorched edge of my uniform. I hugged myself tight, fumbling to tug at the hem of my shorts, which of course just rode higher when I tried.
"D-don't look at me like that! It's not like I wanted my uniform destroyed! It just happened! I was attacked! That's why you gave me those potions in the first place, wasn't it???"
Midori smiled, a sharp, feline curve riding up her face, completely ignoring what I'd said. "Really now, Ms. Hiyomi. Destroying your own uniform? And I assume my cloak met the same fate? We still have to uphold academic integrity, you know. If you'd wanted something more revealing, I could have arranged—"
"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! I-I'm not some perverted—!" My words tumbled over themselves. I was practically shaking with embarrassment. "It's not like I wanted anyone to see me like this!"
God, why did I even say that?!
Midori raised an eyebrow, her voice dropping. "Am I just anyone?"
…
*Boof*
SORRY????
Nah, nah, nah. It was too early for this.
My heart went nuclear before Midori's laugh broke the tension like a bell—bright, airy, utterly unbothered.
I froze, blinking at her, cheeks blazing. She was… laughing at me?
"I-I—!" I buried my face in my hands, muffling the squeak that threatened to escape.
Midori, composed as ever, slipped onto a couch with elegant ease and patted the cushion beside her like nothing had happened.
My genius' pride screamed at me to stay standing—but my legs betrayed me, carrying me over until I plopped down beside her, crossing my arms so tightly they might as well have been sutured together.
I turned my head away, still fuming, still red to the tips of my ears.
When I finally dared to glance at her from the corner of my eye, Midori was watching me with that infuriating calm, her chin propped on one hand, hair and a smile framing her face.
"So," she said lightly, "I take it you have a story to tell me?"