Huan's side of the head hurt — not throbbing pain, but like a sharp razor slowly grazing deeper and deeper into his brain, unfurling his mind. His chest was also in pain.

But according to medics, he was in the least critical condition out of the three, and as such, his healing was postponed until tonight. They left the assessment zone yesterday evening, so it was more than a twenty-four-hour delay. Of course, he could take help from other healers, but there was a painful problem — he would have to part ways with a huge chunk of his measly points. And he was not all for that. So, he agreed to wait.

Light Blackfrost needed to rest to recover from her last healing cycle. She visited him this morning, looked less than pleased, and offered to pay for his treatment. But he denied it. Being healed by someone and being paid for were completely different things in his mind. One was accepting kindness, and the other was leeching off someone’s kindness.

Apparently, she had exhausted herself out of mana while treating Gisella's Blackfrost-afflicted arm. He didn't know if Gisella lost it. He certainly hoped not, but it was Blackfrost — who was he kidding? The chance of saving it was astronomically low.

There was a stack of files by his bedside that he needed to peruse, and he had. He hated reading, to one's surprise. But this was important. He had received offers from three soul hunters. He had options, perhaps for the first time in his life.

And one offer was just a blessing by an angel called Miss Mira. He didn't even need to consider other options compared to this. She was literally willing to bear all the expenses of his medical treatment, money enough to make a house back in his town every month, and freedom for the duration of his apprenticeship. He didn't need to accept anything he was unwilling.

It was almost suspicious, but not completely. He looked her up on the database — something he never thought he'd do — and learned Miss Mira was as well regarded as Light. What more could he ask for? Perhaps his suffering had paid off, for he had caught the attention of an angel.

"SH—" He hissed. His lungs seared in pain as he pushed himself to a sitting position.

Even if he didn't get weight on his soul, the chances of becoming a leader were great. He had achieved something called elemental awakening during his fight with the puppeteer or after. And his elemental capacity was higher than his peers, so he couldn't complain about the hell even if he wanted to. But Mire's death weighed on him.

His jaw clenched as he reached for the door. His face was wrapped in a bandage, and a dog's collar on his neck, chaining him down to the point he couldn’t even turn it to the side. He didn’t know how the hell they provided this for free while the healers were taking nothing less than a hundred to even look at you. Heavy dressing on his chest — iron rods or something cold was in his spine and chest to hold him straight. The left arm is almost nonfunctional. He couldn't tell how he was the least hurt of the three. But he trusted Light's words. She was well known for her kindness. She would never leave him hanging if she could help it. And made him a little worried about Amaryllis and Gisella. What were they going through if his condition was least critical?

It was Three forty. He needed to reach the interview hall by five. Enough time, but he was not taking any risks.

He dragged himself, burning in pain to the door, and peeked out of his ward and saw no one. He had been asked not to leave — stupid idiots. Not in hell was he missing this opportunity. If not all, he needed to make at least an impression on Miss Mira for his well-being and future. Others could fuck themselves for their stupid and measly and extremely demanding offers. One of them even wanted to make him their errand boy.

Still, his muscles groaned with each step he took. It took him three minutes to reach the end of the hallway. He looked at the room sign just before the Elevator. It read. Gisella. Was this his Gisella? he wondered. He hadn’t known they were this close!

Deciding he should check on her, he knocked. He looked like a mess, not that he had any hope of having a chance with Gisella. She was out of his league, and by a mile. Huan knew when he had no hope from experience, and never tried those things.

"Who?" Yes, this was his teammate. The distant and careless voice couldn’t belong to anyone else.

"Huan," He said. His voice was sluggish, and the left side of his face barely felt anything, like paralyzed, but Light had assured him it was nothing to worry about. A part of him still was. This will heal. He couldn't live the rest of his life talking like a ninety-year-old man on his deathbed, and even that old man would sound better than him.

"Come in," came the reply after a minute. It was tired.

Huan again used his right hand to turn the knob. He was greeted by the black-haired girl, staring at him with her blood-red eyes. Her cheeks sunken in, and so was the rest of her body. She looked half of her original. As if a straw sucked everything out of her. Even her collarbone was clearly visible under the sunken and tired skin, which enunciated her bones and nerves like a vacuumed bag.

"H-hello," He fumbled, caught off guard by her appearance. Her right side was missing. A part of her shoulder, so the patience gown was slanted like a badly erected tent. Her hair was untamed and messy.

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"How are you doing, Huan?" Gisella asked. Huan let himself in, showing his complete appearance.

It was hard to say something interesting in this condition. He was barely holding on to his thoughts in this agonizing pain.

"Alive, I guess," he said. "saw your room and thought I should check on you. So..." He didn't know what to say. Chuckled awkwardly, looking around the empty. Being alone with a girl was too much of a social hurdle for him. Especially when he lacked contact with the opposite gender for most of his life. His mother and sister didn't count, of course.

"Alive, I guess. I thought, Light healed you." She still sounded strong and ‘I cannot care less if you die.’

"Ahaha... no she said she would do it tonight. Exhausted after your treatment. Not that my life's in danger." Huan didn't say with certain. How could he? All the doctors had told him was that he was not critical, whatever they meant by it.

"Not in danger... that's far too broad a judgment to make. Even here, your life's in danger." Gisella said. Eerily staring at him, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Not like you'll kill me. Or will you?" He chuckled. Or tried to. And this stupid attempt made him cough. So he did. Violently. Rattling all his inside. That made his chest throb even harder. So he groaned and coughed at the same time. Blood rushed to his face — like hundreds of critters crawling and biting at his brain. He screamed, then coughed a mouthful of blood. It was not the color it should. It took him a minute to get himself right.

A nurse had rushed in to inject him with some kind of thing to calm him down, but that was all the help she could provide.

"Thanks." He said. He looked at Gisella, who was still on the bed. "You can at least pretend to care for your dying friend." He said, hoping to lift up the dead atmosphere.

"Friend? We're strangers, Huan," She uttered, "And I literally cannot bring myself to care about what happens to you. You coughed and almost looked like you were about to die. And all I feel is a barely hidden sigh. Tiredness from this situation. And that blood of yours reeks.”

Huan couldn’t say anything, not when she sounded serious about her words. He chalked it up to her losing her hand.

“I have this bell here," She pointed at the drawer, "I could've called the doctor to help you, but I didn't. Do you know why?" She waited as if expecting an answer. But Huan was not prepared for that. "Because, somehow watching you miserable felt great. Relieving even. I am not alone in suffering from that shit hole — it's a great feeling. Knowing you’re suffering just like me.” She smiled, her eyes laden with unknown emotions.

“Hehe, what are you saying?”

“And If you were to die here, I would've called the doctor to tug away your worthless corpse. You didn't suffer at all, Huan. Did this affect you in any that a healer cannot heal? No. Do you know where I stand after this? No. I'm Gisella now. No longer Yriel. In a few hours, they would strip me of this name too. To be called Mire, as that's what all the fallen heirs are named. Ironic, isn't it? Laugh, Huan. You outdid me, the prodigy of Yriel, the seven noble house of The Hunt. The brightest star.”

Huan still tried to process her words. He understood she was hurt, but still, she was going too far. He reigned in his emotions.

“Do you know who suffered the least? Amaryllis. She is ranked seventh in terms of points. I deserved that position. But look at me," Her jaw clenched, and blood seeped from her nose. “Where I am now. Laugh at me.”

She breathed heavily. "Never again shall I see your face, or I'll carve your face out. Leave, bastard!"

"Why'd have to be such a bitch? It's not like you're the only one suffering. I am not any bet—" His throat tightened, and the windpipe almost flattened. A cough rose in his chest, but couldn't reach his mouth. He shook violently. His chest was going to burst. The nurse tried to help him. He stared at Gisella's wide eye. His vision darknening.

"Any better? You think your worthless life from some second-grade town's whore can ever be equal to me, Heir of Yriel. Even now, It's only my magnanimity that's keeping you alive, peasant." She huffed, her hand clenching tightly on the soft bed. “Heh, it’s not all bad. I can control my ability better. I guess I should thank you for that.”

"This is the only time I'm allowing you to live. Never shall I see your face. Again." Even as she said that her face showed pain. He saw tears slide down her face through his blurry vision.

Huan was thrown backward into the wall. He gulped for the air. His mind finally caught air. His chest heaved. Pain seared his mind. He screamed until he couldn't. Gisella watched him without an ounce of self-loathing.

The nurse helped him stand. His white patient gown was dyed in blood. His wounds reopened. She helped him back to his room. He barely noticed the blood in the face of betrayal. How dare that bitch call her that? He felt numb and hot. His mind was inflating against his skull. Unable to process how he should react. He knew she was hurt. And from her words, it was clear, she had lost everything, yet he was angry and in pain. It was all too much. He didn’t know what he should feel. Sorry. Or angry.

Only one thing was absolute in his mind, he shouldn’t have tried to talk to her. They were strangers. He couldn’t have expected her to react this way.

What about Amaryllis? She even wanted to save his life, she wouldn’t behave like this, right? But he was afraid at the thought of meeting her. Gisella is right. We should never see each other again. He had thought facing life and death made them friends. He had been so wrong. Oh so delusional.

Once the nurse left, he stood again, using mana despite the doctor's advice, and pushed himself to the bathroom. He needed cold water to clear his mind. Or it might just burst or melt. He was stupid he didn't know for sure. Lightning snaked around him. He shocked himself once. It felt great. But his bleeding didn't stop. He stood on the bathtub, turning on the cold rain. His wounds hissed. Broken muscle protested, but his mind was glad. He chuckled, slowly losing the sense of all his wounds.

When he walked back in, Light was in his room, sitting on the stool by his bedside.

“I heard what happened.” She said, her voice even sadder than the morning.