As the days passed with no sign of Kanna waking up, my anxiety grew stronger.
I searched on my device to find out how her head might have been injured and what happens when cerebrospinal fluid leaks out.
Though it was necessary to keep Kanna alive, the slow pace of her treatment wasn't entirely a good thing.
Since the doctors didn't know how she was injured, they were reluctant to make hasty diagnoses or treatments, which left me feeling frustrated.
Apparently, a lack of cerebrospinal fluid can cause dizziness and ringing in the ears. There must be other symptoms too, but since they weren't visible, perhaps I needed to search through medical journals to learn more.
The topic of cerebrospinal fluid deficiency wasn't covered in much depth. Even the doctor didn't emphasize it much, and seemed relieved when mentioning there was no leak.
If that was the case, what mattered more was how directly Kanna's brain had been impacted.
Without knowing how her head had been broken, it was impossible to determine what kind of damage her brain had sustained. Everything looked so normal on the outside that it was difficult to identify the injured areas.
Perhaps that's why Kanna's treatment was progressing so slowly.
Crouched by the hospital bed, I stared blankly at Kanna.
Where had her head been broken? It had already healed so completely that I couldn't tell where or how the impact had occurred.
Why did this happen? But if it hadn't, she might have died. Though I kept her breathing, was I forcibly holding onto someone who should have already departed? Was Kanna suffering because of me?
Still, isn't being alive much better? But if she never wakes up, can we really call that living?
Why wasn't she waking up? Linear fracture? Depressed fracture? Basilar skull fracture? I tried to research what the doctor had mentioned, but although I could read and understand the words on my device, there was nothing I could actually do.
I had already done what I could and left the aftermath in the hands of the hospital.
Despite her heart beating and her pulse being present, Kanna showed no signs of waking. I clenched my fists in frustration, but my trembling hands couldn't reach far.
I was afraid to hold Kanna's hand, thinking it might fall away, or to stroke her face, fearing her neck might break again. Though I didn't want her to remain still like this, I worried that if she had brain damage, my actions might make things harder for her when she regained consciousness.
If that happened, could I bear the responsibility for what I'd done?
The voice of that hero called Ruder echoed in my mind.
'Living is best if you can live. But if the person's life becomes distorted because of it, how will you take responsibility?'
His voice, making me realize what I had done instead of telling me the person was already dead, kept circling in my head.
There's no such thing as someone who should die, but was it right to forcibly hold onto someone whose time had passed?
The moment I thought that, I shook my head.
It wasn't too late at all. Kanna's heart was still beating, however faintly.
I wasn't sure if she was breathing, but I felt a gentle breeze on my hand, so she must have been breathing... I believed. I had to believe. There was no choice but to believe.
They say a person can live for several minutes even with a broken neck from a fall, so I firmly believed I hadn't missed that golden time.
Now I prayed that Kanna would recover without aftereffects—or if that was too much to ask, that she would recover quickly. I prayed to the stars, barely visible, asking them to help Kanna wake up healthy.
*
There's no such thing as someone who deserves to die, nor someone who should die.
But perhaps it's human nature to stare blankly when someone who should reasonably be dead continues to live. I remained calm in that moment because I couldn't immediately process and understand what I was seeing.
Now, three days after everything ended, I could calmly recall the memories of that day.
"...This is strange."
Kanna Aurora, the student who seemed to follow Yoon Ha-min around, was in a terrible state.
To be honest, she looked so bad that one might think she was beyond saving—she looked almost like a corpse.
Such a sight was the kind of horrific scene you'd expect to see when someone had jumped to their death.
It was strange. It couldn't be anything but strange.
Why had I remained silent then?
Ah, right. My mentee, Yoon Ha-min, was so desperate that I didn't want to pour cold water on his efforts.
I hesitated to stop him as he ran, holding what anyone would consider a corpse, claiming there was still a pulse and searching for something. In such situations, letting someone do everything they think they can do helps them let go of lingering regrets.
But contrary to my intentions, Ha-min found something and gave it to Kanna.
He inserted something called a "Totem," which seemed related to the Mysterious Persons, into what could reasonably be called a corpse. Afterward, I saw Kanna's neck return to its normal position.
I saw the bleeding stop.
In such a bizarre situation, unable to accept the strangeness, I kept quiet—not wanting to trample on Ha-min's feelings, not wanting to be hasty, unable to say something like "how can you hold onto someone who should be dead?"
And now, I voiced that hesitation.
In the form of a question, to someone who seemed to know better.
"Excuse me, President. Does the Totem created by Mysterious Persons have healing abilities?"
President Lignum tilted his head at my question.
"No, I've never heard such a thing."
"Really...?"
"I wonder why you're asking. Did you witness something suspicious?"
Since I'd already brought it up, I decided to share what I'd seen.
Anyway, with so much attention already focused on Kanna, these facts would come to light eventually, whether I spoke of them or not.
The problem was the horrific scene that came to mind as I prepared to speak, but I had to force down my nausea with a swallow.
How Kanna's prosthetic arms and legs fell off and were replaced by regenerated human limbs.
How, despite her cracked skull and severely broken neck, she stabilized her breathing after absorbing the Totem.
After sharing these two facts, the President adopted a serious expression and began to think deeply.
As I waited quietly for an answer, he seemed unsure and offered a different approach.
"Then we'll have to ask Kanna directly about this. Fighting with a Mysterious Person when told not to is already problematic, so I'm not sure the Association will look kindly on this."
Finding his words somewhat chilling, I asked nervously:
"Well, Ha-min wouldn't like that... isn't there another way? Besides, from what I saw, Kanna was using her ability when the explosion happened, so it seems fair to say she was protecting people."
"That's a matter of perspective, and since it hasn't been proven, it's not worth discussing."
Despite my efforts, the President continued, as if sharing his personal thoughts:
"What needs to be discussed is that she disobeyed orders. Why she disobeyed, and what she did after disobeying."
"...Is that really necessary?"
"That's how order is maintained, and peace sprouts from order."
"But she's still just a student. Is it necessary to apply such strict standards?"
"That's a good question. If you feel so uneasy about it, I'll put in a word, but I'm not the one who makes the decision."
I supposed the President's cold manner reflected the Association's attitude.
Despite his influence, he was ultimately just one individual's opinion—at most, the president of one agency, just one of many heroes with a slightly stronger voice than others.
"Even for acting alone, if there are positive evaluations about how well she fought, wouldn't that reflect well on her? What else would you call someone who fights so desperately against a Mysterious Person if not a hero?"
Nevertheless, President Lignum held a small expectation.
For the person called Kanna Aurora.
"...President?"
"Once she gets past any controversy, I'd like to recruit her along with Yoon Ha-min."
"..."
Kanna wasn't a student with particularly powerful mana. The issue was that she used power that felt most similar to that of a Mysterious Person.
If we're talking about remarkable abilities, wouldn't Yoon Ha-min, who still uses his abilities in surprising ways, be more impressive?
Looking around at other top students in the Academy, there are many impressive abilities. Orca, the eldest daughter of the Ramiris family and future head of the household, is said to have earth abilities that, while common, are unrivaled compared to other students her age.
Of course, these were all rumors, and having never met Orca, I couldn't make any judgments myself.
Anyway, someone like Yoon Ha-min would be considered truly talented and impressive, but Kanna... well...
But the President seemed drawn to another aspect of Kanna. Despite her physical condition, despite not being particularly strong, despite having the option to avoid entanglement with Mysterious Persons, she fought anyway—and that seemed to score major points with him.
Even with the President's words, I questioned whether Kanna could function properly as a hero. After what had happened to her...
"...I'm not feeling well, so I'll be going."
"Why not take a half day off?"
"Pardon?"
"From what you've said, you seem upset from witnessing something horrific."
"Ah, yes... then... I'll take the afternoon off."
Grateful for the time to go home and clear my head, I left my seat.