"How can your knife skills be this bad even though you're a surgeon?"

Levi looked at the apple that Ryan had cut for him. Ryan had attempted to shape it like a rabbit, but it ended up resembling something worse, not something edible.

"Who says a surgeon needs to have good knife skills?"

Ryan took another apple from the basket of fruits he had bought and started to carve another rabbit with sheer determination.

'For the honor of being the best healer, I will create the best rabbit in the world'

Ryan vowed as he continued his artistic endeavor.

Levi found himself alone in the infirmary. By the time he woke up, Blake had already departed. None of them had sustained serious injuries, only minor bruises and cuts.

Ryan did need to cure Blake, but it was as his bloodline itself was enough to neutralize the small quantity of virus that had entered his body. Ryan took a blood sample and was already working on a cure and even a vaccine.

"What did Blake see?"

Levi had also glimpsed something about Blake's past and his regrets. Not that he would ever share it with anyone; however, a problem lingered.

If Blake saw Levi's past back on Earth, there would be many things he would have to explain. Even a glimpse of modern technology could raise numerous questions in Blake's mind, and there were some things he preferred Blake not to witness.

Levi wore his spatial ring placed on a drawer and left the room. Ryan, engrossed in his questionable apple "art," didn't even notice.

He strolled to a park behind the building and settled on a bench, observing other students milling about. As he basked in the sun, he noticed Blake approaching and taking a seat beside him.

Levi didn't say anything; he simply closed his eyes, listening to the melody of chirping birds and the wind rustling the tree branches. In this moment, he felt at peace after a hectic week.

"Did you see anything about my past?"

Blake was the first to break the silence, realizing that Levi might have seen something similar to what he had seen, though not as disturbing.

Levi didn't answer for a few minutes, allowing himself to float in nature and savor the rare sense of relief. Alone, surrounded by nature, bathed in sunlight, and the scent of leaves wafting through the air, he felt a connection to tranquility.

He recalled what he had seen and pulled out a mana cigarette, placing it between his lips.

"Do you still regret what you did?"

Levi asked, putting the cigarette back in its case. Smoking wasn't allowed in the academy's public spaces.

Blake sighed as he immediately knew what Levi had seen. There were many things, regrettable things Blake had done—stupid and naughty actions that every kid engages in despite their status. His parents had always taught him to live a life without regrets, and that's what he did, except for one thing.

He vividly remembered that incident— like a day with a blue sky without clouds, a sea without any tide, and a mirror without stains.

Being from a Duke family, Blake's parents were always busy with business and other matters. They loved him more than anything, took care of him, and played with him when they had time. Despite his mature understanding of his parents' situation, Blake, like any child, needed a friend, a companion who understood his intentions more than he did.

Until he met someone he would never forget.

He remembered how they collided, her apologizing when she bumped into him, dropping all the freshly washed clothes on the soil. The clean clothes now tainted with mud, and his heart tainted with her warmth.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

At first, he didn't like the new maid assigned to him at the age of five. She was twenty six years old, but her actions were those of a ten-year-old. Clumsy, indecisive, and often silly, she annoyed him. However, her attitude and her smile slowly warmed his heart. To him, she was just a personal maid initially, but the more he got to know her, the more he saw something everyone wished for—a motherly figure.

It didn't mean he hated his own mother; he began appreciating her even more. He felt lucky to have two mother figures—one strong and immovable like a mountain, and the other fragile as a vase. Both loved him to death.

Every day, he woke up to see her smiling face, ready to serve his breakfast. Her tender and warm hands bathed him, a ritual he disliked, not because of her touch but because he didn't like being naked. The lullaby she sang during his sleepless nights, the massages she gave when he got sore from training—everything, he remembered everything and wished it could have stayed the same.

However, like every happy story, a sad part arrived. She was a commoner, and one day she had to leave because someone of higher status applied for the job. Before he knew it, she was replaced.

The day he woke and, for the first time in six years, didn't see her. That was the worst start to the morning he ever had. He rushed, tumbling to the maid's house near their mansion and saw her getting ready to leave in a carriage.

"Why are you leaving?" he asked, desperation in his voice.

She never answered; she never looked back. Anger, betrayal, and loss—that's all he felt.

"I hate you. You should have never become my maid. I hated seeing your face every day when I woke up. I hated your cooking too. The cookies tasted burnt, nothing memorable. I would always throw them in the toilet. I never liked your lullaby. Your voice was hoarse like a... a mill fringing rice. Yeah, that's how bad it was. And I also..."

Blake said, crying, lying, and saying every bad thing he could, hoping she would drop her luggage and come running, slapping him right across his face. He was ready to endure physical pain rather than live with the pain in his heart for the rest of his life.

He picked up a stone and hurled it at her left eye. It hit her eyebrow. She touched the trickling blood but didn't turn back, stepping inside the carriage. He cursed at her again and again.

But she never turned; those smiling eyes never looked back at him as she left, never to return, never to smile.

Blake's feet and hands shook when he remembered that day.

'I should have asked her the reason she left.'

He regretted everything he said and did that day. It felt like a needle piercing him every time he thought about it. Words hurt more than a spear. Maybe he could have spoken kindly to her, exchanged a heartfelt goodbye, sent letters to each other. But his immature self had other plans and a different mindset at that time.

Searching for her was an option, but he was scared.

'What if she looks at me like a freak? What if she doesn't recognize me? What if... she hates me?'

That would be the worst feeling for a son—being hated and scorned by their mother.

"I don't think she hates you,"

Levi made eye contact with Blake and assured him.

"What makes you think that?"

"That's what mothers are. Forgiving, caring, sacrificing, and loving. She could have been angry when you did that, but a mother never hates her child,"

Levi said, remembering the warmth his mother gave him.

"Why can't a mother hate her child?"

Blake still blamed himself for everything. He was hoping Levi could at least had words that could free him from his guilt filled words.

"It's just impossible, Blake. A love deeper than the ocean. An ocean that is ready to sink any sorrow for her child just to keep them afloat. That's the love of a mother—never-ending, vast, and the luckiest in the world are those who get to swim in it."

Blake nodded his head as a small amount of burden fell off his chest.

"You should meet her once, apologize, and if she allows it, hug her tightly for the years you both have missed,"

Levi gave final advice, and Blake didn't know if he had the courage to face her again.

Both went silent again for a few minutes. Blake was drowning in different emotions, trying to swim away from them.

"So, what did you see about me, Blake?"

The heaviness in Blake's heart returned as he recalled it. His fingers trembled again, but it was different. Levi noticed it and could guess what he saw.

"Did that person die?" Blake asked, his voice sore and trembling.

"Yes," Levi's response was quick and cold, much like his past actions.

Blake could see Levi's eyes when he said that. Those words weren't filled with regret nor absolute hatred. No emotions were tied to the words, no humanity bound his past actions. Blake didn't ask anything further, nor did Levi. However, Levi had to clear up a misunderstanding.

"What did Eliza tell you?"

Levi asked, knowing that Eliza had caused the misunderstanding between the two of them.

"She didn't tell me. I overheard her talking to Flynn about how you talked about my family's art."

Levi sighed, not knowing how to confront Eliza.

'Just how much does she hate me?'

A question he wanted an answer to. Blake was asking the same thing.

'Why would Eliza lie?'

Initially, he acted on his emotions, but as he battled with Levi, he started to doubt her words. Now, having escaped death with Levi, he had a general idea that Levi wasn't the type of guy to say such things.

They didn't chat any further. Both knew that they had to keep some secrets. Blake left first, still holding onto Levi's dark past and his own.

Levi soon left, heading back to the infirmary, ready to witness the destruction of innocent apples.