Who Did This to You, Mother?
"……Who did this to you, Mother?"
My mind was wrapped in fog. Perhaps it was because I had died and come back, but my thoughts simply refused to move.
"De… Del… phine…."
What slipped out of me sounded like breath forced through a hole.
A searing heat flared up my throat. My airway felt crushed, my breathing reduced to a thread. Every time I drew in a breath, a wave of pain rolled through me — as if dozens of needles were piercing the back of my throat all at once.
"Mother… What happened. Just now."
Delphine gripped my hand tight, as if she would never let go.
"Why… am I… here…."
The words wouldn't come out properly. Every ragged breath caught against my swollen airway, blocking it again and again.
Tears spilled down Delphine's cheeks, one after another.
"Shh. Talking will only hurt you more. I didn't call the Doctor. He'll be here soon."
The Doctor?
Ah. The Doctor.
Why….
My head hurt so badly that at first I hadn't even noticed. But then I remembered — when I'd opened my eyes, she'd called me "Mom." That girl who, without fail, always called me "Mother."
I wanted to shake my head to tell her it was all right, but my throat hurt too much to move an inch. The moment I tried, the pain spread and my whole body seized up.
I was supposed to be dead. Why am I still alive?
Had someone cast forbidden resurrection magic on me? No — in this world, resurrection wasn't even a concept to begin with.
Through the haze, the Doctor surfaced in my mind.
The cloth, far too soft for strangling a person. Those trembling hands, shaking with fear. He'd trembled more than when he'd tried to kill a monster. Even the sensation of him holding me up so I wouldn't collapse as I died — all of it.
Everything was far too vivid.
Could all of that have been nothing more than a dying vision? A hallucination?
Impossible.
My throat — wrecked to the point where I could barely even breathe — proved it.
The Doctor had clearly pulled the cord tight around my neck.
In that moment, I had died. Without a doubt.
No — actually, I hadn't died. "Nearly died" would be the more accurate phrasing, I suppose.
Strangled, and yet I survived.
Could I still call myself human? At this point, I was something beyond a person entirely.
Delphine laid her hand on my forehead, damp with cold sweat.
"Mother. Don't speak. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
First things first — steady my breathing. Resting came before everything else.
My brow furrowed on its own from the pain, but I closed my eyes.
The Doctor wasn't the kind of man to make a mistake. So why couldn't he take my life? He had honored my request to the very end. None of it made sense.
The door to the hospital room burst open. A Doctor in a white coat rushed in and seized my wrist at once.
"Your pulse is a little fast, but you're stabilizing. Can you hear me? You're conscious, aren't you?"
"Ah… ah…."
I managed the barest nod. The front of my throat burned as if it had been torn to shreds.
He pulled out a penlight and shone it into my pupils, then carefully examined my neck. Every time the tips of his latex gloves made contact, pain lanced through me and my body flinched of its own accord.
"The swelling is far from normal. You've sustained severe compression. The muscles surrounding your airway are extremely sensitive right now."
Delphine pressed her lips shut, her face drained of color. If only I had the strength, I would have wiped her tears away that very instant.
The Doctor moved his stethoscope to my chest.
"Your breathing sounds very rough, but thankfully your lungs themselves are fine. That said, the damage inside your throat is severe, so for the time being — absolutely no speaking, not even a whisper."
He studied my neck closely once more.
"Fortunately, there doesn't appear to be any fracture in the cartilage. But the surrounding tissue is so badly swollen that I can't rule out an internal hematoma."
The marks of strangulation.
Unable to bear it any longer, Delphine cut in, her voice shaking.
"Our — our Mother, is she really going to be okay?"
"Rest is the best thing for her. The swelling could spread and encroach on her airway, so you'll need to keep a close watch."
The Doctor turned to the nurse standing behind him.
"Put her on a pulse oximeter. And set up a cervical CT and a laryngoscopy right away. We need to confirm precisely whether there's internal bleeding or cartilage damage."
It was heartbreaking.
Why couldn't I go back to my original world?
Why?
Having finished giving his orders, he looked down at me again.
"You must not force yourself to speak. The muscles and mucous membranes of your throat are in an extremely delicate state. Even swallowing hurts terribly right now, doesn't it?"
I clutched the Doctor's hand tightly. It meant yes.
Gently resting his hand on my forehead, he soothed me.
"We'll start you on painkillers and anti-inflammatories right away, and begin ice therapy. I'll be back as soon as the test results come in."
A wave of emptiness washed over me. How had everything gone so wrong?
What's happened to the Doctor right now?
My lips began to move, trying to ask where he was — and I bit them shut almost immediately. No. If I opened my mouth carelessly now, everything would be over.
He was the only ally who had tried to send me back to my original world. I couldn't be the one to brand him with the label of "attempted murderer."
Wouldn't that be far too cruel?
I was the one who had asked. I was the one who had used him.
Seeing me start to speak and then hastily clamp my mouth shut, the Doctor warned me firmly.
"There's no need to strain yourself right now. You've been through something horrific — we can talk slowly once your condition has fully stabilized."
A patient….
Not once in all my fighting had I ever been a patient. Only after everything ended, only after arriving at the happy ending, did I finally hear that word. How bitterly ironic.
Giving his instructions for treatment, the Doctor turned away. Delphine leaned in close over me. The grip of the child holding my hand was anything but ordinary.
"Mother, I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay right here. So don't say a word right now."
A chill ran down my spine.
She put peculiar emphasis on that one word — right now.
The nurse approached and drove a needle into my forearm.
The IV solution spread along my veins. Then, gently, an ice pack was laid over my swollen throat.
My face crumpled before I could help it.
Delphine seized my hand tightly.
"Just bear with it a little, Mother. It'll feel better soon."
Her grip was crushing.
I'm sorry, Delphine. I have no intention of recovering.
Turning away from her whispering, I closed my eyes.
The Doctor came to mind.
By all rights, I should be dead. And yet here I was, alive. What was the Doctor doing at this very moment?
Had the attempt been discovered? No — surely he hadn't stopped partway through?
And if he hadn't been caught, what would he be doing now?
Truthfully, it was far more likely he hadn't been caught. I had built his alibi right up until the moment of my death — warping even the memories of everyone around. I had activated my ability, after all.
The unanswered questions chased each other in circles. My chest felt as tightly blocked as my swollen throat.
And then —
The Doctor and nurse finished setting up the equipment, exchanged a few brief words with Delphine, and filed out of the room.
Now only two people remained in the hospital room. Me, and Delphine.
The silence was deathly.
Only the beeping of the monitor echoed through the room.
Delphine dragged her chair right up to the bedside.
On any other day I would have objected, but she said nothing at all. And that was far more frightening.
"You must have a lot to say to me. Save it for later."
Later…?
What was she trying to get out of me? Eaten alive by anxiety, I slowly lifted my eyelids.
Delphine looked down at me, expressionless.
"Everything will be all right. I'll make it so. For now, just rest."
What on earth was going to be "all right"? I wanted nothing less. I was never supposed to be all right in the first place.
Delphine pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.
"The Doctor said so. You'll only be unable to speak for a few days. Until then, I'll do everything for you."
The moment the child's hand closed around mine, I saw it — a snake coiling up tight. Constricting me ring after ring, leaving no gap to slip through. I didn't move a single finger. Just as Delphine held me, I went limp and let her have my hand.
"Don't open your mouth. Not to anyone — not even to the guard patrol when they come. I'll do the talking. Understood?"
I gave my captured fingers no strength at all. Whatever Delphine held, I abandoned it, helpless and still.
"Mother. Just one question."
"……."
"……Who did this to you, Mother?"
My heart plummeted.
Barely ten minutes had passed since the Doctor said I needed rest, and already the interrogation had begun.
Delphine was not a patient creature. She must be aching to tear everything apart — she was probably holding herself back, and only barely.
She'd avenge me, she'd kill them. That intent bled through her every word. Her face gave everything away.
And that, at least, was a relief.
Asking "Who did this to you?" meant she still had no idea the Doctor was the culprit.
If the Doctor had slipped cleanly out of the scene, there'd be nothing to step on his tail.
Because I was the one who had crafted the perfect crime.
Lying where I was, I looked up at Delphine. No matter how she pressed, my fingers never so much as twitched.
The Doctor was the culprit — that much, I would take to my grave.
Because that was the only thing left for me to do.