"Yo, Elric! How have you been?"
A male nurse greeted him as they entered through the hospital's main entrance. He was young, probably mid-twenties, with an easy smile and the slightly exhausted look of someone working the early shift.
"Why so early today? Did your girlfriend kick you out in the morning or something?"
"Dude, how many times do I have to tell you I don't have a girlfriend?" Elric replied with practiced exasperation. "I just woke up early and decided to visit."
"Yeah, that's exactly my point!" The nurse—Jake—gestured emphatically. "Why don't you have a girlfriend by now? You know my sister is crazy about you. Just say the word and Elizabeth will marry you today. I'm not even joking—she's already picked out wedding colors."
"Jake, I told you, I'm thinking about that kind of thing after Mom gets better."
Jake's expression sobered immediately. "Elric, I know. But you can't put your life on hold forever. Aunt Rebecca wouldn't want that for you."
Elric looks away awkwardly
"Hey, why are you standing here chatting?" Ivy's loud voice came from behind them. "Even this early, all the parking spots are somehow full," she grumbled, still irritated from having to park two blocks away.
"Okay, buddy, we need to go," Elric said quickly. "We have to open the restaurant too. Talk to you later."
"Alright, take care," Jake replied, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading off to check on his other patients.
"Who was that?" Ivy asked from beside him, curiosity evident in her tone.
"He's one of my classmates from high school. He recently finished his nursing degree and got an internship here. He's also Elizabeth's brother, you know."
"Are you still talking to that crazy girl?" Ivy's eyebrows rose.
"What do you mean, 'crazy'? She's still my friend, you know."
"Yeah, brat, be careful. I heard girls like that will shoot you if you get another girlfriend or something."
"No, I don't think she's that crazy," Elric said, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely certain. "I think."
While talking, they navigated through the familiar corridors of the long-term care wing, passing nurses' stations and the occasional doctor making rounds. They came to a stop in front of one of the wards—Room 347, where his mother had resided for the past three years.
But before they could enter, a man suddenly stepped in front of them, blocking their path.
"What the—" Elric started.
The man was wearing a black suit that looked expensive but utilitarian, the kind government agents wore in movies. There was a large bulge at his waist, clearly concealing a gun beneath his jacket. Two more similarly dressed individuals stood near the doorway, their postures alert and professional.
It almost reminded Elric of federal agents he'd seen in films, but what would agents like this be doing in a hospital?
If this had happened before, with his naturally anxious personality, it might have been hard for him to even speak without stuttering. But suddenly he noticed something strange.
Where was his anxiety?
The familiar tightness in his chest, the racing thoughts, the urge to avoid confrontation—all of it was simply... gone. In its place was an odd calm, an ability to assess the situation with clear eyes.
He decided to think about that change later. Right now, he had to figure out what was happening.
"Hello," Elric said, his voice steady. "My name is Elric Will. Do you have business with me?"
The agent's expression remained neutral. "Inside is Rebecca Will. Is she your relative?"
"Yes, she's my mother."
"We're just doing some work. You'll have to wait a moment."
"What do you mean we can't visit?" Ivy's angry voice erupted from behind Elric. "Who the hell are you people?"
"Ma'am, I understand your confusion," the agent began in a carefully measured tone, "but this will be very quick. If you could just—"
Before he could finish speaking, the door to the ward opened. Two similarly dressed agents emerged, pushing a stretcher between them. A patient lay on it, covered with a white sheet up to their shoulders, an oxygen mask over their face.
Elric recognized him immediately—Josh, one of his mother's wardmates. The man had been in the bed by the window, surrounded by photos his family had brought to make the sterile space feel more personal.
Before Elric could ask anything, the agents moved past them with efficiency, wheeling the stretcher down the hallway toward the service elevators. The lead agent who'd been blocking their path gave them a brief nod and followed his colleagues, leaving Elric and Ivy standing in confusion.
"Government bastards," Ivy muttered darkly as she watched them disappear around the corner. "Always so arrogant, acting like they own everything. Come on, Elric."
Elric stared at the agents' retreating backs for another moment before following Ivy into the ward.
The room felt emptier now with Josh's bed stripped bare. The photos that had covered his bedside table were gone, leaving only the standard hospital furniture. It was as if he'd never been there at all.
One of the nurses—Ms. Maria, a kind woman in her late forties who'd been working this ward since before his mother arrived—was cleaning the medical equipment around the now-vacant bed.
"Ms. Maria, what happened to Mr. Smith?" Elric asked.
She looked up from her work, and seeing Elric's face, a warm smile appeared despite the melancholy of the task.
"Here early today," she noted, not making it a question.
Without waiting for his answer, she continued, "Mr. Smith's family gave up. You know, even though the government has exempted all taxes for people paying these medical bills, it's still too much for a normal family to manage. Five thousand dollars every month for three years, with no end in sight and no guarantee of recovery..." She shook her head sadly. "They just couldn't afford it anymore."
"I see," Elric said quietly. "See you later, Ms. Maria."
He'd heard some rumors circulating among the families of other patients. Stories that after waking up from the Sleeping Sickness, patients were taken somewhere by government agents before being released back to their families. Something about monitoring, observation periods, making sure they were truly recovered.
But he'd never heard anything about what happened to people whose families had given up on treatment.
Where were they taking Josh? What would happen to him now?
Anyway, it had nothing to do with him directly. His mother's care was paid for—he made enough at the restaurant to cover it, and the government tax exemption helped considerably. As long as he could keep working, his mother would receive the care she needed.
He pushed the troubling thoughts aside and moved toward his mother's bed.
Rebecca Will lay exactly as she had for three years—peaceful, almost as if she were simply sleeping deeply rather than trapped in an inexplicable coma. Her face was still beautiful despite the pallor of her skin, her dark hair—now showing threads of gray—spread across the pillow.
Elric sat in the chair beside her bed—his chair, as he thought of it, worn smooth by three years of visits. He reached out and picked up her pale hand, cool to the touch. It was a very normal routine for him, this gesture of connection with someone who couldn't respond.
But the moment his hand touched hers, something extraordinary happened.
A sensation like electricity shot through his hand, jolting up his arm and into his chest. It was sharp, intense, and utterly unexpected—nothing like the gentle warmth of human contact.
Elric jerked his hand back instinctively, staring at his mother's motionless form with wide eyes.
What the hell was that?
His heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at his own hand, then back at his mother's. She hadn't moved. Her expression remained peaceful, unchanged. The medical monitors showed the same steady, slow heartbeat they'd displayed for years.
But something had definitely happened. He'd felt it—a connection, a spark, something.
Slowly, cautiously, he reached out again.
The moment his fingers brushed her skin, the sensation returned—stronger this time.
"Elric?" Ivy's voice came from the other side of the room, where she'd been arranging fresh flowers she'd brought. "Is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Nothing—"