The second the call ended, Aika snapped her head toward the window, suddenly finding the passing buildings incredibly fascinating. She straightened her back, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and arranged her face into what she hoped was the picture of complete innocence.
I was not listening. I have never listened to anything in my entire life. I am simply a girl who enjoys looking at walls.
She felt his gaze before she saw it. Slowly, against her better judgment, she turned her head. Noel was already looking at her. Not with irritation. Not with coldness. Just — looking. One eyebrow slightly raised, the corner of his expression carrying something that wasn't quite a smile but was dangerously close to one. Like a man watching a very small, very obvious animal try to camouflage itself against the wrong tree.
Aika held eye contact for exactly two seconds before her eyes slid back to the window.
Okay. He knows. He definitely knows.
He held out her phone without a word. She took it without turning her head, her fingers closing around it a little too quickly. The silence stretched. Then — quietly, almost to himself — Noel said:
"Your doubts are clear. I can guess."
Aika said nothing. She just gripped her phone in her lap and stared very hard at a lamppost outside. This man, she thought, sneaking one last glance at his completely unbothered profile. He can't even let food digest in peace without feeling proud that he was right.
"Hph."
She crossed her arms, sank slightly in her seat, and stared ahead. Noel said nothing. He didn't need to.
The car slowed. Through the window, the clean white facade of the hospital came into view, and Aika felt whatever was left of her courage quietly pack its bags and leave. She accepted her fate. Okay. Aika. You can do this. She gave herself a firm internal nod. It's nothing big. Just a regular checkup. Easy. Simple. You've survived a body swap, a terrifying grandfather, a hand-crushing Cecilia, and boiled chicken. You can survive one doctor.
A pause.
...But what if they ask about childhood?
The courage that had just arrived immediately turned around and left again. How am I supposed to know Helena's childhood? I can't even remember the novel properly — I read it ages ago! And I'm pretty sure this scene never even existed in the original story. I changed so much of the plot that I've basically walked myself into a situation with no script and no safety net.
She closed her eyes briefly. Okay. Fine. Let's just see what else this world has left to throw at me.
The car door opened. "Wait."
Aika stopped mid-step. Noel didn't turn around immediately. He stood half-inside the car, leaning back in to reach for something. When he straightened, he was holding a plain, clean face mask. He held it out toward her without a word, his eyes running over her quickly — a fast, efficient scan — before looking away.
Aika stared at the mask. Then at him. "Why? I don't have a sneezing problem. Or a cold."
Noel didn't even blink. "Your reputation."
Aika blinked. "My what?"
"Reporters." He said it like it was obvious. "If it leaks that you visited a psychiatric clinic—"
"They're going to say I've gone mad," Aika finished flatly, the sentence completing itself in her brain before he could.
A beat of silence. Nah, she thought. That's not going to happen. That's fine. Everything is fine.
"That's not going to—"
"Put it on."
"But I really don't think—"
"I don't care." He said it so simply, so finally, that it left absolutely no room for negotiation. He was already walking toward the entrance. Aika stood there holding the mask, watching his retreating back. Insufferable.
She put the mask on. She hated that she wore it. She hated even more that the moment it settled over her face, something about it felt — right. Like a shield. Like her old glasses. Don't read into that, Aika.
She caught up to him quickly, her sneakers squeaking against the polished hospital floor as she fell into step slightly behind him. The lobby was clean and quiet, all white marble and soft lighting. Very fancy. Very intimidating. Her eyes darted around — the reception desk, the directory board, the elevator bank.
Curiosity, as always, got the better of her. "Hey," she said, keeping her voice low. "Do I need to like — check in somewhere? Which floor are we going to? Are we going to regular reception or—"
Noel gave her a sideways glance that could only be described as why are you like this.
"Regular," he said flatly.
The receptionist at the front desk looked up — and immediately straightened. Her entire posture shifted the moment she saw Noel. "Mr. Ryner." She smiled warmly. "Dr. Haan is ready for you. He's been expecting you."
"He's a close friend," Noel said simply, without looking at Aika. "We have an appointment."
Aika processed this. A close friend. Who is also a psychiatrist. Who already has an appointment ready. This was planned, she realized. This was very, very planned. She smiled under her mask. Oh this man is so dead.
The door to the office opened and Aika's first thought, completely against her will, was: Oh. He's actually kind of good looking. She immediately filed that thought away under "irrelevant observations" and moved on. The doctor was seated behind his desk, flipping through a file, gold-rimmed glasses sitting low on his nose. He looked up the moment they entered — and the second his eyes landed on Noel, his whole face shifted into a warm, easy smile.
"Noel." He stood, extending a hand.
"Haan." Noel took it, and something in his posture — just slightly — relaxed. They're close, Aika noted from her position directly behind Noel. Very close. Her sixth sense was screaming. Something is off. Something about this whole setup feels too prepared. Too neat.
Aika's eyes drifted slowly toward the door behind her. If I just… quietly… turned around right now… what's the worst that could happen?
She was genuinely calculating the odds when the warmth of Noel subtly shifting to the side hit her like a cold wind. Her human shield was gone.
"Hello, Miss Helena."
Dr. Haan's voice was gentle, low, professionally warm. He was already looking at her, a calm smile on his face like he had all the time in the world. Aika snapped her best smile onto her face — the polished, Helena-approved version — and straightened.
"Hello! I'm doing all good, thank you. How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you for asking." He gestured toward the chair across from his desk. "Please, have a seat."
She sat down. Okay. Good. That wasn't so bad. The doctor sat across from her, opened his notepad, and smiled pleasantly. And Aika's brain, with absolutely no warning, went completely blank. What do I say next? WHY IS SMALL TALK SO HARD—
Dr. Haan settled back in his chair, pen ready. Aika settled back in hers, smile fixed, and stared directly at Noel. Noel stood to the side, arms loosely crossed, showing absolutely zero intention of moving.
Leave, Aika thought. Please. I am asking you nicely with my entire face. Read the room.
Noel looked at her expression. He looked at Dr. Haan. He looked back at her. And did not move. Dr. Haan cleared his throat gently. "Noel." He tilted his head toward the door.
Noel held Aika's gaze for exactly one more second. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him. Aika's smile dropped instantly. She turned back to Dr. Haan.
"So, Miss Helena." Dr. Haan's voice was warm. "Are you feeling alright? Any headaches? Dizziness?"
Aika shook her head. "No."
"Good. So—" he looked up, "—how much are you able to recall now?"
Play, Aika. Just play with the words. "I don't… remember much," she said carefully.
"Okay. And how much is 'not much'?"
"Well… you know. Not a lot. The general… amount. Of things. That they told me."
Dr. Haan looked at her. She looked back at him. "Still," he said gently, "how much, specifically?"
"Just—" she started, keeping her voice even, "whose daughter I am. My ex-fiancé. My brothers. My stepmother. My step-brother. And Ren. And Noel. And Grandfather."
She finished with a small, dignified nod. Solid. Convincing. Dr. Haan looked at his notepad. Then at her.
"Miss Helena." His voice was dangerously calm. "What you just listed — those aren't memories."
Aika blinked. "Sorry?"
"Those are people who introduced themselves to you." He tilted his head slightly. "I'm asking how much YOU remember. Not what they told you. Not what you were informed of." He paused. "How much do you actually recall — yourself?"
The room went very quiet. He caught it. He caught it immediately. This man, she thought faintly, is absolutely terrifying.