Hospital Visit
Saya pressed the carefully wrapped box of cookies into Basil’s hands.
Through countless playthroughs she had uncovered Ricotta’s secret: the girl never forgot the taste of those rough butter cookies she had once snuck as a child—not the expensive, refined confections of high society, but those humble ones.
“Lady Ricotta must be shaken by everything that happened. Just going to her first and asking if she’s all right will be a huge comfort. Tell her you bought these cookies yourself when you give them to her.”
Go, true protagonist! Seize this perfect chance to win the heroine’s heart.
Saya clenched her fist, silently cheering Basil on with everything she had, praying he would finally play his proper role.
“…Yeah. I understand.”
Just as Basil steeled himself and started toward Ricotta’s hospital room, a neatly uniformed teaching assistant appeared from the far end of the corridor and blocked his path.
“Student Basil. Professor Oliver has issued an emergency summons. You are to report to the department head’s office immediately.”
Basil looked helplessly back and forth between Saya and the assistant.
He hated the thought of losing this golden opportunity to raise Ricotta’s affection, yet he could hardly ignore a professor’s urgent call.
Saya swallowed dryly without meaning to.
…Here we go again.
Everything had been perfect—the situation, the timing, even the gift she liked. The ideal recipe to pierce straight through the heroine’s heart.
But the scenario of this damned world always stretched out a giant hand at the most decisive moment and overturned the board, as if mocking Saya’s tiny rebellions against the tragedy it had already decided upon.
“You go see the professor. He said it was urgent. I’ll visit her in your place. I’ll make sure to tell her, very tenderly, how worried you were.”
“Ah… all right.”
Damn it. Even when I try to set the stage, this trash game finds a way to interfere.
In the end Saya took the cookie box back from Basil and, leaving his anxious gaze behind her, headed for Ricotta’s hospital room.
Haa… time to go in.
Having steeled herself, Saya carefully opened the door.
It swung open without so much as a creak, revealing a scene that made it hard to believe this was a hospital room at all.
What filled the spacious chamber was not the antiseptic smell of a ward, but a calm, expensive fragrance that called to mind a luxury hotel suite.
Even for a private room, this is way better than my dorm…
While Saya clicked her tongue inwardly, her gaze was drawn naturally to the center of all that opulence.
Ricotta sat in a massive chair by the window, dressed in a patient’s gown.
She was neither looking outside nor reading a book; she simply stared at the dust motes dancing in the sunlight on the windowsill.
She was noble and beautiful, yet at the same time she looked as fragile as a wounded beast trapped inside a gilded cage.
Even though she had clearly noticed Saya’s entrance long ago, she remained motionless for a long while.
At last Ricotta spoke, still without turning her head, her voice low and directed at empty space.
“…You’re late.”
The tone was cold. Yet when she finally turned and properly met Saya’s face, Ricotta unconsciously caught her breath.
…Why?
Something was different from the outdoor training.
It was the same face, the same figure, yet today’s Saya pulled at her gaze with unnatural force. Beneath the soft lighting of the hospital room, that pale skin glowed as translucent as freshly fallen snow.
A temporary psychological phenomenon? Feeling special emotions toward the person who saved you from danger… I used to laugh at those fairy tales where princesses fell for the princes who rescued them… Is this what that feels like?
Unaware of the existence of the Fair Skin trait, Ricotta suppressed the unfamiliar emotion rising in her chest and forced herself to appear composed.
“The treatment for my shoulder took longer than expected… I’m late. I apologize, my lady.”
Saya immediately bowed her head in apology.
“I did not say that to receive an apology.”
Her ash-gray eyes had lost their usual sharpness; they swirled like a lake under heavy fog.
“It’s just…”
Ricotta paused, turning her gaze back to the window. Sunlight caught her soft golden hair and sharply outlined the unusually pale curve of her cheek.
“Being alone in this large room… time seems to pass a little more slowly.”
…!
A woman who would rather die than admit weakness. An arrogant duke’s daughter who despised revealing her emotions to others. And yet she was confessing that she had been “bored,” that she had, in truth, been “lonely,” that she had “been waiting for you.”
Saya had no idea how to answer, and silence pressed heavily over the room.
Unable to bear the awkward air any longer, Saya held out the cookie box she had been carrying.
“I thought the hospital food might not suit your palate, so I prepared something small, though it is humble.”
“…Butter cookies.”
Ricotta picked one up and took a small bite. In that instant, a long-forgotten sensation wrapped around her entire body.
“This taste…”
Her voice trembled faintly.
“When I was little, the first time I escaped that stifling mansion and went to the shopping district… the cookies my nanny secretly gave me, hiding them from my parents, tasted exactly like this.”
It was a precious memory known only to her and her nanny—something no one else could possibly know.
“And you brought these to me. As if… you had been looking into the deepest part of me for a very long time.”
Silence fell.
Saya screamed inwardly.
She had used knowledge from the game to buy Ricotta’s favorite cookies far too blatantly.
“I simply… had a feeling that my lady might enjoy a simple taste like this.”
“Answering that way again?”
Ricotta cut her off briefly and turned back to the window. Yet the question held no reproach—only a strange resignation and acceptance.
“Your shoulder… is it all right?”
This time Ricotta asked first.
“Yes. I received treatment… I’m fine.”
“…I see.”
The two of them carefully avoided each other’s wounds, exchanging only empty words, as if walking carefully across a fragile glass surface.
Saya endured the suffocating atmosphere, gauging the right moment to leave.
Just as she thought, I should get up now, Ricotta spoke again. This time she was looking straight into Saya’s eyes rather than out the window.
The fog in her pupils had cleared, replaced by a deeper, more solemn light than before.
“Saya.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“To you…”
Ricotta parted her lips as if about to say something of great importance. All her hesitation and sincerity seemed condensed into that single phrase, ready to burst forth—
Knock, knock—
A polite yet firm knock sliced through the taut air between them.
“My lady, this is your attending physician. I would like to check your condition for a moment.”
Ricotta bit her lip for an instant, then wiped every emotion from her face and returned to the perfect mask of a noblewoman as she received the doctor.
By the time the examination ended and the physician left, the fragile thread of emotional connection that had stretched between them had already shattered into pieces.
“Then I shall take my leave. Please do not trouble yourself with other concerns; rest well and recover soon.”
Saya quietly rose from her seat.
“…Yes. You may go.”
Ricotta spoke with her back turned, in the cold, arrogant voice that was originally hers.
Saya bowed silently and left the room.
In the final moment before the door closed, she saw it—Ricotta’s face reflected in the window glass. Eyes closed, she was trembling faintly, as if desperately holding something back.
Out in the corridor, Saya leaned against the wall and drew ragged breaths.
What… was she trying to say?
The image of Ricotta desperately suppressing something refused to leave Saya’s mind. It soon turned into an ominous premonition that stopped her mid-step.
Without hesitation she turned around and flung open the hospital room door she had just closed.
Bang—!
Startled, Ricotta’s gaze flew toward the door.
There stood Saya, who had left only moments ago, now wearing an entirely different, resolute look in her eyes.
She strode straight up to Ricotta and met those trembling ash-gray eyes head-on.
“It seems you have something you wish to say. Please speak freely, without burden.”
Before Ricotta’s eyes, the scene from that day rose again with vivid clarity.
Saya standing before her, taking the sword with her own body without a moment’s hesitation to protect her. Even as blood sprayed like a fountain, she had not uttered a single groan of pain and had walked toward her in that precarious state.
It was a debt. As the daughter of a ducal house, a clear debt of life that she could never turn away from.
Ricotta squeezed her eyes shut.
The duke’s daughter quieted every emotion that had been raging inside her.
Shame, the pride carved into her bones—before this unmistakable debt of life, they were trivial. She decided not to flee from this feeling but to settle it cleanly. That was the way she had lived, and the way she must continue to live.
When she opened her eyes again, every hesitation and confusion had vanished from her ash-gray gaze. Only firm resolve remained.
Ricotta slowly, with perfect composure, rose from the bed.
Then she stood directly before Saya. Though she wore only a patient’s gown, her presence was more noble and dignified than that of any knight in the empire.
Meeting Saya’s eyes squarely, she bowed at the waist with flawless posture, not a single degree off.
Saya unconsciously held her breath. She knew all too well what Ricotta’s action meant in this world.
It was the most respectful and heartfelt expression of gratitude a noble—especially the daughter of a ducal house—could offer.
It was a solemn declaration that she was setting aside all her pride and recognizing the other as an equal, or even as a greater benefactor.
“Saya.”
Ricotta’s clear voice filled the quiet hospital room.
“Thank you… for saving me that day.”
Her cheeks colored faintly with embarrassment, yet her voice did not waver in the slightest.
Each word carried the full weight of her sincerity—everything she was.
Lifting her head, Ricotta continued speaking to Saya, who still stared at her blankly.
“I dislike being in debt. Especially a debt of life.”
She stepped one pace closer. Close enough that their breaths nearly touched. Ricotta’s cool yet sweet fragrance brushed the tip of Saya’s nose.
“Therefore, until I have fully repaid this debt…”
A smile curved Ricotta’s lips for the first time—not one of possessiveness, but something else entirely.
It was different from a child reaching for a toy; it was the smile of a beast that had finally found its one and only den.
“Stay by my side. From now on, I will be the one to protect you.”