My Romance Life System
Chapter 81: Kindness

Chapter 81: Kindness

Our little tragedy awakens.

Not with a gasp, or some dramatic flourish you see in the movies, but with a slow, pathetic fade-in to the land of the living.

Her world was a blurry mess of white. An assault of brightness that made her head ache.

’...white.’

’so bright...’

A sound. A steady, rhythmic beeping that was starting to get on her nerves.

’...beep...’

’...beep...’

Her eyes, gummy with sleep or something worse, finally managed to focus just enough to make out shapes. A ceiling, made of sterile white tiles. A bag of clear liquid hanging from a metal pole, a thin tube snaking down from it to a dull prickle in the crook of her arm.

A hospital.

The realization didn’t bring relief. It brought a surge of pure, ice-cold panic that was more potent than any drug.

’no... no no no...’

’hospital... i can’t pay for this...’

The fear hit her before anything else. Not the fear of being sick, or of what she had done, but the deep, adult terror of a bill she could never, ever pay. Each beep of the machine next to her bed sounded like a cash register ringing up another charge against her name.

’i have to get out of here. now.’

She tried to sit up, but her body just laughed at the idea. It was a leaden, useless weight, and a dull, throbbing ache echoed through her bones. Her head spun, the white room tilting like a ship in a storm.

’...what happened...?’

The memory was a black hole. The last thing she could pull from the void was the image of the little plastic pill sheet in her hand. Empty.

The door to her room opened with a soft whoosh, and a woman in blue scrubs walked in. It was the good nurse.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. Welcome back."

Thea tried to speak, but her throat was sandpaper. A dry, pathetic croak was all that came out.

"Easy now," the nurse said, checking the IV bag with a practiced efficiency. "You’ve been through a lot. Just rest."

"I... I have to go," she managed, her voice a reedy whisper.

"Now, none of that. You’re safe here."

’"safe" costs money... i don’t have money...’

The panic was making her breath hitch. She had to make her understand.

"Please," she rasped, trying to push herself up again, her weak arms trembling with the effort. "I can’t afford this. You have to let me leave."

The nurse put a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder, easing her back down against the pillows. Her expression was full of a sympathy that Thea didn’t know what to do with.

"Don’t you worry about that right now," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "That’s not important. What’s important is that you’re okay. You gave us all quite a scare."

The nurse continued, "You were very sick. It’s a good thing that boy found you when he did."

’...a boy?’

Thea just stared at her, the single phrase cutting through the fog of her panic.

’what boy?’

"He was so worried," the nurse said, fluffing Thea’s pillow. "Stayed for hours until he knew you were stable."

Thea couldn’t form a response. Her mind, already a chaotic mess of fear and confusion, now had a new, unsolvable problem to deal with. A boy. Some nameless, faceless boy had found her.

She was too exhausted to fight anymore. Her body, finally getting its way, began to drag her back under. The nurse’s kind face blurred, the beeping of the machine softened, and the crushing weight of the hospital bill faded into the background.

So there she lay, a prisoner of kindness. Saved from one problem only to be thrown headfirst into another.

---

The next morning, the world returned in slightly better focus. The edges were still fuzzy, the light was still an enemy, but it was a manageable kind of misery.

Thea lay there, a statue made of aches and pains. The panic from yesterday had cooled to a low, simmering dread. A constant background hum of ’I’m screwed.’

The door whooshed open again. It was the good nurse, carrying a tray that held a steaming bowl of something pale and unthreatening.

"Rise and shine. Doctor’s orders are in: you need to eat."

Thea’s eyes fixed on the bowl.

’Food. That costs money, too.’

She shook her head, a small, weak motion.

The nurse just smiled, a gentle, unyielding expression. She pulled a chair up to the bed, completely ignoring the refusal.

"Just a little bit. It’s just some rice porridge, congee. It’ll be good for you. Easy on the stomach."

She stirred the contents of the bowl. Steam, carrying a faint, savory scent of chicken broth and ginger, drifted up. It smelled... good. It smelled like real food.

Too tired to fight, too weak to protest, Thea just watched as the nurse scooped up a small amount onto a spoon. She brought it to Thea’s lips.

"Come on. Just one bite."

Thea parted her lips. The spoon, warm and smooth, touched her tongue. The congee was simple, almost bland. Just warm, soft rice in a light, savory broth.

It was nothing. A simple, basic food.

And it was the most overwhelming thing she had ever tasted.

Her eyes snapped wide open. The simple act of being fed, of tasting something warm and nourishing that wasn’t stale bread or cold from a can... it was a shock to her system. A kindness so foreign it felt like an attack.

And then the tears came.

There was no sound. No dramatic sob. Just a silent, unstoppable flood. They welled up and spilled over, streaming down her temples and into her hair. Her thin shoulders began to shake with the force of a grief she didn’t even know she was holding.

It wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t relief.

It was the shattering impact of a single, simple truth: someone was taking care of her.

The flavor of the food was the flavor of concern. The warmth of the bowl was the warmth of another person’s effort. These were sensations she had lived without for so long that her body, her very soul, had forgotten they existed. To experience them again wasn’t comforting. It was devastating.

The nurse said nothing. She put the spoon down on the tray. She didn’t try to comfort her. She didn’t ask what was wrong.

She just sat there and let the girl cry.