The Mechanical Nurse and Night Self-Study

I honestly thought if I fell asleep like this in the infirmary, I might never wake up again. They say it's easier to go if you die in your sleep, right? But this world clearly had no intention of letting me off that easy.

Of course, there weren't any seriously injured spots, so if someone had been there, they might've called me dramatic. The biggest problem was the constant interruptions to my recovery. My ankle from two days ago was still sprained because I kept twisting it, and it wasn't healing. If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I could just slap on a patch, it'd probably feel better, but the only recovery method here was sleep. The school did have an infirmary, obviously. But there was a problem.

The rule was so brutal I couldn't even think of going in. I had no idea what counted as "sick," and the treatment sounded terrifying. Unless I felt like I was really about to die, I probably wouldn't set foot in there. My whole body ached, but I decided to just let time do its thing.

Stepping out of the break room, the central entrance was as brightly lit as ever. Was there some feature that prevented oversleeping? It was uncanny. I immediately checked the shelf. Unlike yesterday, there was no warning letter. Dodging that drunkard and the chaos had meant something, and that was a small comfort.

I sat in the chair and opened the security log file. Hoping against hope that today's entry had no incidents.

...And just like I wished, the incidents section was spotless. Finally, today I could relax. I'd quickly finish checking the doors and crash back in the guard room.

"Whoa, what happened to you?"

The voice right in front of my face made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me look up. Kim Eat-Chil in his human form was staring at me. When did he get here? I hadn't heard a thing. Still, I played it cool.

"What do you want?"

"No use hiding your feelings so desperately—I can tell everything."

"Then just pretend you don't."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Kim Eat-Chil grinned naturally. Ever since I told him to use polite speech last time, he'd been sticking to it diligently. At a glance, he looked like a cute, ordinary boy. But when the light fades, he turns into a black mud monster. Or rather, that's his true form, so he reverts?

"So, what's up for real?"

"Do I need a reason to see ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you?"

"Not necessarily, but you wouldn't come for no reason."

"I did, though?"

I stared at his shameless face. He just kept smiling like he really had no business.

"Fine, I'm heading in then."

I stood from the chair, limping toward the break room.

"If you're hurt, try the infirmary."

The place I'd just been thinking about and dismissed. I was shocked to hear infirmary from Kim Eat-Chil's mouth.

"Worried about me? I'm touched."

"Better fresh than all wilty."

"...You meant 'full of energy,' right?"

Was this youkai just waiting for a chance to eat me? He wasn't licking his chops every time he saw me, was he? Even if so, as long as I stuck to my security guard role, Kim Eat-Chil couldn't touch me. He'd acknowledged it himself, so it should hold.

"Doesn't the infirmary teacher go home?"

"She doesn't clock out."

"...She doesn't?"

"Ah... see for yourself. Hehe."

Why was he acting so creepy? Song Ha-yeon had mentioned getting sleeping pills from the infirmary before. I knew nothing specific about youkai, but from experience, one thing was clear: their intelligence and initiative varied, but they were all predators. And no predator hands its prey to another.

By that logic, the infirmary seemed safe for now. Might as well go, worst case I'm tricked. And even if it's a youkai, thanking him for the concern was polite. I turned to say so, but Kim Eat-Chil had already slipped out the entrance. Hard to believe he'd come for no reason. Smart youkai might not be so different from humans. Come to think of it, the drunkard just didn't communicate well—he had human-like traits. Otherwise, I couldn't have subdued him.

I'd decided to check the infirmary, but first, one last bridge to tap: the Gallery. Surely someone knew about it.

As night fell and the Gallery lit up, I scanned the new posts. Touchingly, there was one worrying about me.

The Gallery made me feel human warmth again. People worrying if I didn't come back. We'd only known each other five days, but the time spent there felt long. Shared misery bred affection—impossible in normal communities that ban cliques.

The infirmary teacher's identity was probably on the no-post list. From the admin's words, predecessors used it fine, so I could relax. Last bridge tapped. Time to experience the treatment firsthand.

The infirmary was right after turning right from the central entrance. Unlike other rooms, no windows meant no peeking from outside. There were windows from the yard, but curtains blocked them tight. I swallowed hard and cautiously opened the door.

Bloodstains everywhere on the floor. I shut it quick.

...Opened again: same scene. Without prior knowledge, I'd have ended the expedition here. Youkai and Gallery said safe. Trust it.

The interior felt bizarre. Dried blood splattered floor, walls, ceiling—contrasted by a pristine white bed smack in the center. This the infirmary? More like an operating room mid-surgery.

Shelves lined the walls, packed with pill-like boxes and mystery tools. Where was this insane infirmary's teacher? No youkai, no movement.

"Patient arrived. Beginning diagnosis."

A robotic voice echoed from somewhere. No source visible. Then, a corner shelf started moving—smooth like it had wheels.

"Left arm bruise, right ankle sprain. Prescribing patches."

Voice origin unknown. A mechanical arm extended from the shelf, opened it, pulled two patches, and handed them over. Stunned, I grabbed them reflexively. The arm retracted, shelf back to normal.

Was this the teacher? A shelf youkai? It lingered, no return to corner. No eyes visible, but felt stared at.

Wondered if it could talk. "Is... something wrong? Any business...?"

Like Kim Eat-Chil, if I stuck to guard role, teachers couldn't harm me. It seemed passive robotic, so clear input-output expected.

Response unclear if accurate: "Reported sleep disorder. Sleeping pills available. Take?"

Song Ha-yeon's request, probably. No nightmares last two days, didn't need. Patches ok, but pills? Wary. Declined.

Shelf slid back only then. Infirmary silent again.

Back in guard room, slapped patches on sore spots. Normal look, cool sensation—cooling patches. Anticlimactic after tension: safe exploration.

Patched up, sat in break room scrolling Gallery. No incidents, perfect chill day. Prayed for repeats. No work meant free exploration for escape.

But expectations always betray. Next day, usual wait for sunset in guard room. Not just staring—not really. Song Ha-yeon or Kim Eat-Chil often showed for chat. Gallery great, but sometimes need to talk aloud.

Speak of the tiger: Kim from hallway. "Waiting for me?"

"No."

"You look secretly glad."

"No."

"Not scared anymore?"

"You can't hurt me."

"..."

Kim moved to bite, blocked himself. Recovered quick, smirked, tapped window. "Don't get too comfy. Not going home tonight."

"...Why?"

"Exam period soon—night self-study."

"...???????"

What did I hear? Period? Self-study? Night self-study?

"Take care?"

No explanation, innocent grin, vanished down hall. Brain froze, couldn't process.

Groped shelf left, lifted log. No rule for this, I thought. But the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠open log screamed reality.

Left side, old notice spot: new Exam Period Special Notice.