Chapter 83: Late Night Ward
Akira wanted to raise his hand. He wanted to smooth the worried crease between Kochou Shinobu's elegant brows, to gently wipe away the tear stains at the corners of her eyes, and to pull the blanket that had slipped to the floor back over her sleeping form.
Unfortunately, every muscle in his body was screaming a unified, desperate message: No, you don't.
At present, the only parts of his body he could command were those above his neck. Below that, only his chest and abdominal muscles continued to function, straining against the damage just to maintain the simple act of breathing. As for the rest of him, aside from the endless, throbbing pain that signaled their existence, he couldn't move them an inch. He couldn't even manage the simple action of squeezing Shinobu's small hand, which was already resting against his own palm.
The muscles in his limbs had suffered severe tearing, and other areas were afflicted with various degrees of strain. His entire body below the neck was swathed in tight bandages to control the swelling and prevent internal bleeding.
In the end, all Akira could do was let out a helpless sigh.
Yet even this faint, barely audible sound seemed to startle the sleeping girl. Her long eyelashes fluttered a few times before her eyes opened. Those pupils, like deep purple gemstones, met Akira's gaze—a gaze filled with a mixture of heartache and surprise. The grogginess of sleep vanished in an instant, replaced by a jolt of pure, wide-eyed clarity.
"You're finally awake?"
"Yeah," he managed, his voice a dry rasp. "Sorry for making you all worry."
"It's okay, as long as you're awake… as long as you're awake…" Shinobu's voice trembled. "You've been unconscious for several days. You must be hungry. I'll go heat up a bowl of porridge for you."
Without waiting for a response, she gently withdrew her hand and hurried out of the room, her footsteps quick and light.
Because there were two patients, Makomo and Akira, the staple food at the Butterfly Mansion had recently been porridge. To ensure Akira could have a hot meal the moment he woke, a portion was set aside from every meal, needing only a quick reheat when the time came.
Though Shinobu tried to be as quiet as possible when she opened the door, Kanae, who was caring for Makomo in the adjacent room, still heard her. Makomo had woken up two days ago, but her body was still incredibly weak, and she needed support just to walk.
Hearing the soft click of the door next door, Kanae, whose sleep was already as light as simply resting with her eyes closed, woke immediately and went to investigate. Just as she poked her head out, she saw Shinobu's back disappearing down the hall toward the kitchen.
Glancing back at the still-slumbering Makomo, Kanae quietly stepped out and made her way to Akira's ward.
"Kanzaki-kun, you're awake?" she whispered, gently pushing the door open. Seeing those eyes, which remained bright even in the dim light of the night, a great weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.
"Kanae," Akira said softly. "How long was I asleep? How is Makomo?"
"It's been three whole days," Kanae replied, walking to his bedside. "Makomo woke up the day after she was brought here. Although she's a bit weak, she's fine. I've been watching over her, but as for you, Kanzaki-kun…"
She reached out, her fingers gently stroking his face. Her voice, already strained, began to tremble. "Himejima-san's reinforcements were almost there. Why did you have to risk your life? Didn't you tell us that preserving your life should be the top priority?"
The rims of her eyes, already pink with worry, deepened to a painful red as fresh tears welled, threatening to spill.
"Sorry," Akira murmured, his heart aching at the sight. "I just… couldn't help myself. It won't happen again, I promise." He didn't try to explain his reasons, focusing instead on comforting her. The last thing he needed was for a still-unstable Kanae to start blaming herself over the haori she had given him.
Recalling it now, a cold knot of fear tightened in his gut. If that final, desperate strike hadn't killed Gyokko, or if Gyoumei had encountered Ink Shadow just a few moments later, he would likely be preparing to drink Meng Po's soup by now.
More, he had been wrong to make these girls who cared for him so deeply worry like this.
'Impulse is the devil…' Akira warned himself sternly.
"Mhm." Hearing his promise, Kanae responded with a soft, watery sniffle.
Afterward, neither spoke, quietly savoring the shared silence—a companionship that felt like something precious, lost and found again.
Before long, Shinobu returned, carrying a bowl of steaming porridge.
"Sister? Sorry, did I wake you?"
"It's not your fault, Shinobu."
The two sisters then moved with a practiced, unspoken understanding. Kanae sat at the head of the bed and gently lifted Akira's upper body, letting his head rest against the soft swell of her chest. Meanwhile, Shinobu stood before him, feeding him porridge one small spoonful at a time. Before each spoonful, she would blow on it gently, then touch it to her own lips to ensure the temperature was just right before bringing it to his.
Basking in their tenderness, Akira felt momentarily overwhelmed. The soft, warm sensation at the back of his head, combined with the sight of the incredibly gentle Shinobu before him, was intoxicating. A fleeting, shameful thought even crossed his mind: maybe he should get this badly injured again sometime.
The moment the idea appeared, he was so horrified that he mentally shook it away. While this gentle service was a paradise, how could he ever bear to make the girls who loved him so much worry for him again?
Still, seeing the usually sharp-tongued, sly, and tsundere Shinobu acting so tenderly made Akira feel both intrigued and deeply moved. After all, the very verbal barbs he had used to shatter Gyokko's composure were skills he had learned from the girl right in front of him.
Since Makomo had begun staying at the Butterfly Mansion, Shinobu's sly and sharp-tongued attributes had been fully activated. Though the three girls got along wonderfully, whenever she faced Akira, it was as if her day wasn't complete without a few rounds of witty bickering. Over time, he had grown accustomed to their daily sparring, and his own verbal repartée had grown sharper bit by bit.
The only difference was that their usual banter was restrained and playful. When Akira had faced Gyokko, he had been as vicious as possible. If not for his concern about using truly vulgar language, he probably would have cursed the demon into oblivion.
The small bowl of porridge was finished in no time. For Akira's usual appetite, it was merely a snack, but he knew it was unwise to eat a large amount after a long period of fasting. This was all he would get for now.
After gently wiping Akira's mouth, Shinobu once again asked the question that she, her sister, and everyone at the Butterfly Mansion was desperate to know. "You clearly could have held out until Himejima-san arrived. You could have killed that demon more easily. Why did you suddenly start risking your life?"
"Well…" Akira hesitated. "Seeing Makomo almost die at that demon's hands filled me with rage. Then, during the fight, that guy ruined the haori Kanae gave me, and then… I just snapped."
"Kanzaki-kun…"
"You…"
Hearing this reason, both sisters didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"I hadn't even worn that haori for a full day before it was ruined…" Akira's tone carried a hint of genuine grievance that he didn't even notice himself.
"It's okay." Kanae's hand returned to his hair, gently stroking his head as if comforting a child whose favorite toy had been broken. "I'll make another one for you later. No, I should make several—enough to fill your entire wardrobe, Kanzaki-kun."
"There's no need for that many; it would just tire you out," he protested. "Besides, I'm still growing. If you make too many, they won't fit later, and that would be a waste."
With his muscles on strike, all Akira could do was move his head slightly, nuzzling against Kanae's hand in response. Of course, the main reason was that he didn't want her to exhaust herself for his sake.
"True…" Kanae thought for a moment, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Well, then I'll make you two new ones every year."
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