Aizak laughed at his reflection.
The sound came out wrong — thin, shaky, like it didn't belong to him.
He gripped the edge of the sink, fingers digging into porcelain as he stared at the stitched line on his cheek.
The reflection smiled back.
"That's a little gift we gave you," it said.
"Do you like it?"
Aizak's eyes emptied.
"I do," he murmured.
He turned away before the reflection could say anything else.
Before it could keep laughing.
As he reached for the door, dizziness washed over him. The floor tilted. His heartbeat thudded too loudly in his ears.
"What is happening…?" he whispered.
No answer came.
The nurse smiled when she saw him.
"Let's go back to your room," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
Her grip lingered a second longer than necessary — not possessive, just careful.
Like she was afraid he'd fall apart if she let go.
Aizak didn't respond.
He walked beside her quietly, his steps measured, mechanical.
They hadn't gone far when someone rushed toward them.
An older man — early fifties, dark hair streaked with gray, green eyes sharp with anger. His shoes hit the floor hard, fast.
They stopped.
Aizak froze.
Sweat broke out across his skin. His breathing turned shallow, uneven.
The nurse noticed.
"Do you know him?" she asked gently.
"He is my—"
The slap landed before he could finish.
The sound echoed down the corridor.
Aizak stumbled, fingers flying to his cheek. Pain bloomed slowly, dull and heavy. He didn't cry out.
The nurse covered her mouth.
"You ungrateful piece of shit," the man snapped. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to get you into that university? How much I pay every month for your useless existence?"
He grabbed Aizak by the collar, shoving the nurse aside.
"I ignored your degeneracy. I turned a blind eye. But showing up to a lecture soaked in blood and high on god-knows-what?" His voice rose. "You embarrassed me."
Aizak stared at the floor.
The man continued, relentless.
"Do you think you're tough now? A man?"
He laughed sharply.
"You hit a professor twice your age. Broke a bathroom mirror. Fell on the floor like trash."
Aizak didn't answer.
"Look at me," the man barked.
Silence.
"Raise your head. Now."
Aizak tried. His neck trembled. His eyes refused to lift.
The man seized him by the throat.
"Answer me."
Air vanished.
Aizak's hands twitched uselessly. His vision blurred at the edges.
Just kill me, he thought.
Even that wish felt arrogant.
The nurse rushed forward.
"Stop it!" she shouted. "If you don't let go right now, I will call security!"
She tried to pull them apart. She wasn't strong enough.
The man turned on her.
"Who do you think you are?" he snarled. "This is a family matter."
She didn't back down.
"A family matter?" Her voice shook with disgust. She gestured around them — doors cracked open, patients watching, staff frozen in place.
"You do this in a public hospital? Around people who are suffering?"
No one intervened.
No one moved.
Aizak's chest tightened.
Don't defend me.
I don't deserve it.
I don't. I don't. I don't.
The man shoved Aizak forward.
He crashed into the nurse. They both hit the floor hard.
The corridor stayed silent.
The man spat on the tiles.
"I don't want to see your face again," he said flatly.
"From now on, you're not my son."
He walked away.
No one stopped him.
The floor was cold.
The nurse pushed herself up first, then looked at Aizak.
"Are you alright?"
Aizak laughed.
It broke halfway through.
"Is any of us?" he asked quietly.
His eyes shone faintly — not with hope, but with something exhausted finding a place to hide.
Elsewhere.
Well and Rain walked out together, bags slung over their shoulders.
"You didn't hear a single thing I said, did you?" Rain muttered.
"Well sighed.
"I mean… I'm half high and my nose is broken," he said. "I think that excuses me."
They reached the glass doors. The security guard was asleep, mouth open, peaceful.
Rain pressed a finger to her lips.
They slipped out.
"What a first day," Well said.
"Tell me about it," Rain replied.
She waved and headed the opposite direction.
"Well smiled. "Goodbye."
He reached into his bag, already picturing the cigarette.
No lighter.
His expression darkened.
"I wonder," he thought, "what Aizak is doing right now."