Helena backed away slightly on the couch where Airon had placed her. The shame of being carried like cargo was quickly replaced by a desperate need to establish control.
"Wait, sir! Sir, wait!" Helena demanded, holding up a hand. "Okay, first, you have to listen before talking! As well, you must apologize for your actions! And who even are you, huh?"
Airon simply crossed his arms, his patience obviously thin. "You forgot your friend, Helena? Stop this, now. I don't have time for a prank; the Board meeting is in an hour. That little episode must have been more severe than the doctor thought."
Friend? Aika thought, confusion replacing her anger. Friend?
Helena frowned, trying to look appropriately cold. "Which friend's name?"
Airon sighed, an expression of profound irritation. "Hey, enough joking, okay?"
But Aika's serious, panicked expression didn't change. She genuinely didn't know.
Airon finally rubbed the bridge of his nose, conceding to her supposed game. "It's Airon. Now do you remember?"
A sudden wave of realization washed over Aika.
Airon? Airon and Helena? Which novel was it?
She searched her frantic memory, sifting through hundreds of plots involving CEOs and childhood friends.
Oh my gosh! Oh no... wait! So I am the second lead! Thank God! So I am just his helping hand!
Aika suddenly recalled the generic, tragic subplot of a different novel she'd skimmed. Yeah! I remember now! I'm this boy's childhood friend who helped him meet his crush! And I had to die because of sickness later on!
Helena's fear vanished, replaced by a sudden, pragmatic relief—and then a renewed urgency.
"A-Airon," Helena stammered, now using his name with an odd mix of forced formality and genuine relief. "Listen. I need to get out of here right now."
Airon stared at her, utterly confused by her sudden shift in emotion. "Get out? Why? You have a Board meeting."
"Because I remembered!" Helena whispered, leaning closer, her eyes wide with a conspiratorial secret. "I remembered my character's ending! I have to die soon! I got another reason to go back!"
Airon just stared at Helena with a look that clearly screamed: Are you completely mad?
Aika immediately realized her colossal mistake. I had to die silently, without letting anyone know! For now, I can't die while this guy and all those people downstairs are here. Ayya, first, let me use this girl's money.
Helena quickly smoothed her expression, forcing a weak laugh. "Oh! I am just joking! Why are you here, by the way?"
"You tell me first," Airon said coldly. He didn't drop the subject. "What is your father's name?"
Helena went silent. The Chairman... Darin? Orin? I don't remember the novel name we chose!
Airon withdrew his hand, a sudden look of grim concern replacing his irritation. "I knew it. Your memory is gone, huh? Why the heck didn't you tell me? Are you feeling sick?"
Aika's internal thoughts were a burst of delighted surprise: What a stupid person he is! He himself asked the question, then himself gave the answer! Wow! Should I just go with the flow?
Helena hesitated for only a second, then gave a slow, mournful nod, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes.
"Y-yes," she whispered tragically, clutching Airon's coat tighter. "I don't remember... anything."
Airon closed his eyes, exhaled sharply, and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. He pulled out his phone and barked an order into it: "Get the doctor up here immediately. And cancel Helena's Board meeting. Tell the Chairman she is suffering from a temporary, post-concussion memory loss."
Aika (as Helena) slumped back onto the couch, feeling a huge wave of relief. Perfect. Free from the corporate meeting, and Airon is managing the crisis. Now I just need to avoid the 'sickness death' plot.
"So, could you tell me what happened to me?" Helena asked, adopting a weak, confused tone. "Like, I don't even remember what happened to me."
"First, go and change," Airon ordered, gesturing to the massive closet. "But before that, wait."
Airon's demeanor suddenly shifted. He looked less like a corporate executive and more like a concerned caretaker.
What is this happening? If I jump from this window, should I end up in my world or in a grave? Aika thought, panicking at his sudden, unexpected change in attitude.
Before Helena could move, Airon swiftly knelt down in front of the couch where she was sitting.
Helena became utterly rigid with shock. "W-what are you doing, sir?"
"Let me clean your feet first," Airon said simply. "I know, but stop moving. This is my fault for not checking on you earlier. Just let me clean this. You are making a spectacle of yourself, as always." He reached out and gently took her ankle.
Helena snatched her foot back instantly. "Don't touch it! I can do it myself!"
Airon paused, his expression unreadable, still kneeling. "No, wait," Airon insisted, trying to gently take her ankle again. "I am doing it, and I am not asking for your permission."
He held her foot steady and meticulously wiped the dirt away with a silk handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, all while Helena sat there, frozen and mortified by the sudden, unwanted attention.
The moment Airon released her foot, Helena snatched it back, pulling her legs securely under the silk coat. Throughout the entire process, she had repeatedly asked, "What happened to me? You have to listen!" but Airon hadn't spoken, completely focused on the simple task.
As soon as he stood up, he pointed toward the wall of closets. "Go. First, change up. If you want the answer, you must be presentable."
Helena needed no further urging. A shower! Normal clothes! Information!
She scrambled off the couch and rushed toward the closet area. She was back out again in under a minute, looking utterly bewildered.
"Where are the clothes?" she demanded, throwing her arms wide.
Airon just stared at her blankly. "Helena, the entire area is your closet."
Is he mocking me? Aika thought, utterly confused.
She opened the first set of automatic closet doors. Inside, there was a dazzling array of gowns, cocktail dresses, and tailored suits.
"But... where are the casual clothes?" Helena cried, looking at a rack of diamond-studded jackets. "What disgusting clothes are these? I need jeans! A hoodie! A plain top! Not... this!"
Airon walked over, picking up a silk blouse and a simple (but clearly designer) pencil skirt.
"Helena, this is what you call 'casual.' Put this on," Airon instructed, pushing the clothing into her arms. "The doctor is arriving. You need to look like you can speak coherently, not like you're recovering from a bender."
Helena sighed dramatically. "Fine," Helena muttered, retreating into the closet. "But don't follow me!"
Helena slammed the closet door shut. I don't care what he said! I am not wearing that pencil skirt!
Aika spent the next frantic minutes rifling through the designer clothes, pulling out the only things that covered her completely: a thick, floor-length silk slip (meant to go under a gown) and a heavy cashmere cardigan (meant for chilly nights). She layered them, creating a completely shapeless, overly warm, and unfashionable look. She quickly wrapped her damp hair into a loose, messy bun.
She burst out of the closet, looking like a conservatively dressed ghost in expensive fabrics.
"Now, could you tell me what happened?!" Helena demanded, her voice slightly strained from all the shouting and running.
Airon stared at her, utterly speechless at the chaotic outfit. "Could you first sit down," Airon said slowly, his voice laced with exasperation. "And speak in a normal voice. Aren't your throat tired of shouting that much?"
What type of friend is he? Aika thought, feeling a sudden surge of pity for her host body. Doesn't he care about his friend? Poor Helena, what poor luck you got, girl.
Helena sat down, though the anger was radiating off her. "Fine. Now talk."
Airon sighed, rubbing his temples. "The 'episode' was a minor traffic incident. The doctor is coming to check for a concussion, which, given your sudden amnesia and... choice of clothing... is a high possibility."
He pulled out the phone she had dropped earlier and tossed it onto her lap. "Here. The Board meeting is cancelled. Use that time to try and recover something. I need to handle your father now."
Helena couldn't hold the secret in any longer. "Oh, hell no, man! Look, you need to understand my point!" Helena burst out, forgetting the 'amnesia' act completely. "Don't you believe your friend, Helena? And at the first place, I am not even Helena! I am just a 20-year-old college student, Aika!"
Airon just looked at her, his expression hardening. He leaned back slightly, a dry, dismissive look on his face.
"Oh, really?" Airon drawled, a sarcastic smirk pulling at his lips. "Then I am also Tarzan, come straight from the forest."
Aika's jaw dropped. He didn't believe her. Right. The amnesia is the only thing that works, Aika realized bitterly. Stop confessing, you idiot!
Helena quickly covered her face with her hands, letting out a theatrical, muffled sob. "Oh, Airon! I... I don't know what I'm saying! I'm so confused! Everything is a blur!"
Airon's expression instantly shifted back to grim concern. "See? That's what I thought," Airon stated, confirming his own diagnosis. "It's the concussion talking. Don't worry, the doctor is here. You've had your little breakdown. Now listen to me: Just keep quiet and let him work."
A sharp, professional knock echoed at the door, signaling the arrival of the medical staff.
Airon gave her a final, cold order. "Helena. You have amnesia. Remember nothing."
The doctor and a nurse entered. Airon immediately stood up, walking away from Helena to speak with the doctor privately near the window. Helena sat on the couch, rubbing her temples, deep in thought.
Should I try at least once to jump from the window? Aika thought frantically. Even if I don't die, I'll accept this book story. But if I go back, I'll be happy-happy, yeah!
Airon finished briefing the doctor. "Helena, go to bed," Airon instructed, his tone still demanding obedience. "The doctor needs to check you up."
Helena listened instantly, getting back into the massive silk bed.
The doctor performed a brief examination. Once done, he spoke to Airon. "I think it's just a shock. Post-concussion memory loss is often temporary, especially after a significant emotional trauma. She needs a little rest and some medication."
Then, he turned to the nurse. "Please put in an IV. Just saline and a mild sedative for rest."
As Helena heard the words "put in an IV," Aika's deepest, most primal fear of needles took over.
She shot upright in the bed, shaking her head violently. "I am okay! Fully, sir! I am completely okay!"
Her eyes were wide and fixed on the needle the nurse was preparing. The amnesiac facade shattered, replaced by pure, terrified aversion.
Airon stepped closer, his face a mask of suspicion. "Look, Helena, don't joke. You are a big girl, and you never flinch from anything. You've had IVs before without complaint."
Exactly! Because I'm not her! Aika screamed internally.
Helena clamped her lips shut and shook her head furiously. "I said no! No means no!"
Airon's eyes narrowed. "Why are you being so stubborn? It's just a mild sedative. Unless... you've regained your memory and this is your new tactic to avoid the Board meeting?"
Helena knew she was trapped. She looked down at the needle, her expression shifting from fear to tragic drama. She swallowed hard, forcing a tremble into her voice.
"I just... I don't like being helpless," she whispered, using the kind of deep, psychological reasoning found in the villainess character profiles. "I need control. Please, just pills. I promise I will rest."
Airon stared at her, still skeptical, but this answer—rooted in control and power—sounded more like the Helena he knew.
He finally exhaled, turning to the doctor. "Give her the oral medication and instructions. No IV."