The ceiling was a white expanse.
"Beep, beep, beep..."
A beeping sound echoed in my ears.
This was a modern, concurrently operated ward. Judging from the equipment inside, it was clearly a single room. The numerous devices indicated that the patient inside was in a more serious condition.
A monitoring device sat nearby. Patches monitoring vitals, connected by different colored cables, were attached to Arka's body.
The monitor displayed a variety of data, with wavy lines on them.
It updated with the wavy sound.
From time to time, a steady, low beeping sound echoed.
The sound wasn't harsh, nor was it rapid or slow, indicating that his body was relatively safe.
"Excuse me, Mr.Arka, in bed 1?" the nurse's gentle voice reached my ears.
Arka straightened his dazed head and nodded. He seemed still a little sleepy.
She replied in a weak, low voice, "Yes."
"I'm your charge nurse, my name is..."
The nurse's voice was in her ear, but his mind had already drifted elsewhere.
He didn't notice until the nurse left.
It was slightly dark around the bed.
Suddenly, the door to the ward opened. Arka turned to look, but the blue curtains around the bed were drawn, obscuring the view outside.
Then the curtains opened, letting in a stream of light.
This was a single ward room.
A middle-aged woman busied herself in the ward, the curtains and windows drawn.
She then brought her lunch box over, sat down beside the bed, and carefully examined the machine.
Then she looked at the situation nearby.
She picked up a long slip of paper from the foot of the bed.
She carefully examined the items on it.
The price was clearly marked behind each item.
Range from a few cents to over a thousand.
This was the total cost for the past few days.
The total amount reached nearly ten thousand.
"Thank goodness it's claimable," the woman muttered, her expression unchanged as she casually tucked the data sheet into her pocket.
Now he could independently calculate which items were claimable, and the actual amount he'd have to pay wasn't so outrageous.
He opened the lunch box.
"Son, how did you sleep last night?"
Arka turned his head and looked at his mother.
His mother was still opening the lunch box as she spoke.
"It's okay, Mom. It just feels like a dream."
"A dream? Then why don't you still use oxygen tonight?"
"Forget it, it's just a dream, Mom. It's not that serious."
"What are you afraid of? Oxygen isn't expensive."
"It's not about the price. I still have the energy to breathe.
I feel like I'm getting tired after taking too much oxygen. That's weird."
"Okay, okay, let's eat something."
The middle-aged woman said, already opening her lunch box. There wasn't anything particularly delicious inside.
Even if she wanted to eat something delicious, she couldn't. There was only a bowl of porridge, but it exuded a faint fishy aroma.
You could see some fish and shrimp in the porridge.
Below that was a bowl of sweet fish soup.
The smell of carp.
"I'll do it myself."
"Okay, you do it yourself. Be careful of the burns."
She handed him the spoon and bowl.
Arka took the bowl and spoon and saw purple bruises on the back of his hand. His hand had become somewhat dry.
He had indwelling catheters on the backs of both hands, and one on his arm.
This was to avoid having to reinsert the vein every time he received an IV.
Looking at her son's dry, wrinkled hands, the old woman silently turned her head away, stood up, walked a few steps, and then walked back.
"Is it delicious?"
"It's delicious. I feel much better after eating."
After finishing their meal, the woman was cleaning up when the door opened.
A doctor in a white coat, followed by a young intern, came in and smiled at Arka.
Then he asked a few questions, wrote them down in a notebook, and left. He called out to the woman at the door.
"Family member, come here. I need your help."
Mother nodded, placed the packed lunch box on the bedside table, wiped her hands, and walked out.
Arka lay weakly on the bed.
This was a private ward, and the corridor outside wasn't particularly noisy.
But he could hear the sounds outside the door. Though not loud, they were crystal clear.
Is the hospital's soundproofing so poor? "Family, would you consider taking him home? Staying here all day is too expensive. He's almost ready to go home now.
At times like these, patients want to stay home; it's good for their mental well-being."
"Doctor, I know everything, but my son..."
"Well, let's just let him go home for a while. It's so uncomfortable being in this hospital. What do you think?"
"Okay, then... let's go back."
"No problem. Go get the discharge paperwork later. Don't worry about anything for now. Just take the medicine.
Let him rest. If he wants to play, take him out for a bit, but don't go too far.
There's nothing to be strict about when it comes to food. A good nutritional supplement is good.
Of course, avoid anything greasy, spicy, or stimulating."
The doctor before him was trying his best to convey his meaning in a tactful way.
His mother simply nodded, her expression unremarkable.
This was already a foregone conclusion, and she'd already been grieved enough.
She sighed, then, with a calm expression, pushed the door open and walked in.
"Mom, are you going home?"
"Ah? Yes, I'm going home."
Arka smiled. "Leaving today?"
Seeing that smile, his mother couldn't hold it back any longer. She forced a trembling voice and said, "Yes... yes, Mom, I'll go get you admitted. You rest for a while."
With that, she quickly opened the door and ran out.
She could hear faint sobs along the way.
"When did my hearing become so sharp?" Facing his impending death, Arka felt a sense of relief.
He felt less tired, as if the pain in his body had eased. He didn't know why.
Soon, a nurse came in and began to remove the monitor from his body. By the way, I removed the indwelling catheters from his hands.
‐‐After the nurse left, Arka, feeling as if a heavy burden had been lifted from him, left his bed and went to the window, gazing at the tall buildings and the bustling traffic outside.
‐‐"Let's go see the ocean in a few days," he muttered to himself.
‐‐Then he felt his body weaken again.
‐‐"These are my last few days, just a moment of vigour, a moment of perseverance."
‐‐He didn't know who he was talking to, but he patted himself and began to pack up.
‐‐After a while, the door opened.
‐‐"Why are you packing up yourself? Go upstairs and rest, Mom's here."
‐‐"Oh, it's okay. If you don't move, they'll rust."
‐‐"Alright, then go pack up the chargers and other things in the closet, and I'll take care of them."
‐‐Arka nodded, not forcing him.
She quickly changed out of her hospital gown and into her long-unseen normal clothes. She headed to the parking lot and sat in the passenger seat.
"Anywhere you'd like to travel? Since we're already out here, let's find someplace to go."
"I want to go to the beach, Mom."
"The beach?"
"Yes, I dreamed last night that I was on a ship at sea, one of those ancient sailing ships."
"Oh, let's go book the tickets tonight. It's a shame your dad's busy, and Arka's gone to school again."
"No problem. I'll see if there's any beachfront projects like this one."
They chatted and laughed until they returned home.
Looking at her room, Arka stood there, stunned.
"What's wrong?"
"I want to teleport in."
"Huh?" her mother asked, puzzled.
"What are you talking about, silly kid? Mom's going to cook. You go see which beach to go to."
Arka nodded, then sat down on the sofa and picked up her phone.
"It's been a while."
Looking at her phone, she felt a little confused. What was she doing?
She shook her head, stood up, and walked towards her room.
She saw the ultra-wide screen on her desk, the gaming chair, the speakers, and the console.
The three main characters next to her.
She picked up her CyanogenMouse and pressed a button, watching the little house appear on the screen.
"I really miss it."
Missing something she'd just played a few days ago?
Putting the console back in its place, Arka lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
It felt strange.
Alas, he was about to die, how much weirder could it get?
…
After eating, sleeping, and buying plane tickets, he boarded a flight with his mother the next morning, bound for a coastal city. After a connecting flight, he took a bus and booked a hotel.
As the sun was about to set, he finally saw the beach and the vast ocean.
"The sun is setting? How interesting."
A passing child glanced at the frail-looking older brother in surprise.
He must be crazy.
The mother next to him also glanced at him and patted him: "What are you talking about, silly kid?"
Even the setting sun was surprising.
"Nothing, it's rare for me to come out."
Besides the tourists, a retro, man-made ancient harbor could be seen far away on the beach.
Three different ancient sailing ships were docked at the harbor, seemingly 1:1 replicas, but it was closed.
"Look, that's the sailboat you were talking about yesterday."
The mother was pointing to a modern sailboat, a small, single-handed vessel. A male figure was steering it, gliding along the waves in the distant sea.
"That's the kind I was talking about yesterday, Mom. Look over there." Arka pointed to the ancient sailboat amusement park in the distance.
"Oh, you mean the ancient kind?"
Arka swam in the sea for a while, and when it was almost dark, he and his mother went to the hotel.
After dinner at the hotel, he returned to his room alone and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window at the night view of the seaside.
"Slowly getting dark, so this is what it feels like."
He touched his bald head as he spoke, and when he returned to his room, he took off the hat he had been wearing.
The next day.
Arka and his mother bought tickets and boarded the three ancient sailboats.
A tour guide was explaining.
"This is an ancient medieval sailboat. ".
Arka was also very curious and kept examining it.
Then they moved on to another sailboat.
"This is the kind of sailboat used in ancient ."
Arka walked around the boat and looked at it.
"Mom, look, he's tied the knot wrong. That's not the way it should be. He should tie it this way, so it's easier to remove at sea and more secure."
Listening to her son's story, the mother looked at him with a strange look.
Then she sighed. Didn't she even know about her son's hobby? "When did you start liking this kind of thing?"
But she was also surprised that her son didn't seem to have bought anything like a sailboat model or a book.
I'd never seen him express such a hobby.
"No, I've only recently gotten into it," Arka said perfunctorily.
He walked to the bow and looked toward the sea. Suddenly, he raised his hand, then went to the deck and patted the mast.
He looked at the poop, then the forecastle.
The ship had no bow, but instead a single mast extending straight out.
"It would be nice if it were a bird's head," he said, bafflingly.
They had been traveling extensively for the past month, and Arka's complexion seemed to be getting better and better.
But only he knew it was a bit like a last gasp of life. Since he was accompanied only by his mother, his father had also put down his work and followed him. Later, even his sister took a leave of absence from school and returned home.
After a trip, Arka returned home and sat on the sofa.
The family was busy in the kitchen, leaving only his sister sitting on the sofa, occasionally turning to look at him.
"Why are you staring at me? Are you crazy?"
"What crazy? What do you care? I can look if I want. If you have the guts, poke my eyes out," his sister said bluntly.
Looking at his sister, Arka suddenly sat down on the sofa and stuck out his butt.
"I'll fart for you to smell."
"Crazy, crazy!" After cursing, his sister sat back on the sofa.
Finally, she would occasionally keep an eye on him.
Arka stood up, his eyes seemingly clear again, and walked around the living room.
Looking at the balcony, he occasionally fiddled with the small flowers on either side.
After picking up the watering can and sprinkling some water, he went back into the kitchen, watching his parents busy themselves, chatting with a smile.
He opened the refrigerator, but didn't take anything out; he simply looked inside.
He glanced at the shoe cabinet by the door and sat down at the dining table.
Then he stood up and went to the bathroom next to his room. For some reason, he turned the sprinkler on, then turned it off again.
He pressed the flush button.
He couldn't help but smile.
He walked into his room, looked at the game consoles he'd bought after work, turned on his computer, and cleared the password.
He looked at the model and fiddled with it for a while.
He went back into his parents' room, walked around, turned on the light, and ran out.
Then he looked at his sister's room next to him, opened the door, and went in.
"What are you doing?" his sister, who had been observing him, asked. "Your room is such a mess. You don't act like a girl at all. It's so embarrassing!"
"Who cares? Who cares! Your room is a mess too, how dare you criticize mine?"
"How dare you, a girl, compare yourself to me?" He said, closing the door.
He walked around the living room again and sat on the sofa.
He covered himself with the blanket, feeling a little cold.
The younger sister alternated between watching TV and checking her phone, tossing and turning.
She watched him from the corner of her eye.
She watched her brother sitting on the sofa, his eyes fixed on her.
His eyes had already begun to narrow slightly.
The color of his face grew darker and darker, rapidly turning pale, and his lips began to turn purple.
His sister, who had been observing the situation, could no longer hold back, and her voice was filled with tears.
She cried, "Mom! Dad! Come quickly!"
They had anticipated this long ago.
But when this moment arrived, no one could hold out.
The last thing he heard was his parents' anxious footsteps and loud shouts.
The entire scene began to unravel.
Arka stood there, watching the scene, looking at the family gathered around what had once been his body.
Looking at the room he had lived in since childhood.
Standing on the balcony.
The golden light outside began to fade.
The image of the entire house began to shatter, dissolving into something like ash.
Something that had been buried deep within him emerged. Regret, deep regret and longing.
‐‐Arka's figure vanished, and Arka, lying lifeless on the sofa, stood up again.
‐‐The images of his parents and sister vanished.
‐‐The surroundings transformed into a vast expanse of blue sea and sky.
‐‐The sky held the unchanging sun and a single, fluttering white cloud.
‐‐The sound of waves reached him.
‐‐A melodious song reached his ears. Alka was already standing on the deck of the Dawn's Voice.
‐‐The figures of Sofia and the others appeared.
‐‐Lucilia sat on his shoulder, and Sofia came beside him, reaching out to hold his arm.
‐‐A crystal dragon glided past in the sky and landed on the deck. Due to its condition, its tail drooped over the sea.
‐‐Pororo leaped from the deck.
‐‐Simon ran out of the cabin.
I smelled the aroma of food and heard melodious singing.
Then the girls frolicked around, leaping up and down the freely moving vines.
A deep sense of regret faded and dissipated.
More things surged in, filling the void left by the fading regret.
Alka stood on the deck, gazing into the distance.
"There are no regrets anymore, Arka. At least this time, I die at home, surrounded by my family, without regrets. I didn't die in a muddled way."
She raised her hand and squeezed it hard.
The illusion dissipated.