Fear of Death
"...Yaaawn."
In the end, I hadn't managed to sleep a wink the night before.
That face she had shown me. The way she had held my hand. Every sensation, every feeling lingered the whole day long and tormented me without mercy.
"Brother, are you sure you're alright?"
"Huh? Ah, yes..."
Was my face looking even more foolish right now than they could see? A man who couldn't sleep properly over a single love, who kept grinning to himself as he replayed her face over and over in his mind—what must they be thinking of me as they dealt with me?
Would they find it unexpected? Or would they simply file it away as one more thing to whisper about later in some corner, another topic for teasing?
But the work I had to do right now was precise: calculating the proper dosages of medicine for the patients. I moved the pen diligently, figuring out the amounts I needed to measure out...
That foolish face of yours—show me a little more of it.
Ugh, I couldn't focus on the work at all.
When she looked at me with such passion, those eyes shining like the sun in the sky, what else was I supposed to do except flush red?
It had only been a brief evening spent together after she'd invited me to her home. So why was I—
"Brother Gideon? Brother Gideon, are you in here!"
The sudden explosion of sound—the heavy door reinforced with iron over wood slamming open and crashing against the wall—was more than enough to startle everyone in the dispensary.
Two knights were looking for me, for some reason.
"Wait, this is the dispensary. If you come in without properly disinfecting yourselves—"
Sister Lydia, who had been closest to the door, cried out in shock and reflexively ran toward it. The rest of us either spun hastily toward the entrance or hurried to clap lids shut so the medicines wouldn't scatter.
Fortunately, the knight assigned to the dispensary rose from his seat at once and silently barred the doorway, so they couldn't set foot any farther inside. Still, the two who had come running—clad in light armor and wearing those intimidating riot helmets shaped like skulls—were breathing hard.
"We understand. It's just that we were told Brother Gideon is currently on duty in the dispensary..."
The desperate way they sought me out filled me with a nameless unease. Something to do with one of my patients? Had I made a mistake in treatment? Or was it a disturbance inside the hospital? If not that, then what on earth could be urgent enough to summon me—someone who was only temporarily resting from frontline duty to build up his knowledge of medicines?
"I am Evan Gideon. May I ask why the holy knights are looking for me?"
"Lady Thea has urgently summoned you. She requested assistance regarding a disturbance in the patient ward. Can you come at once?"
Thea?
Why would she be calling for me?
...Wait a moment. The topic we had discussed yesterday—hadn't it been about how to handle that patient from the Hillmore Sect?
An ominous feeling slid down my spine. If she had gone ahead and treated him after all—
"Has she been hurt?!"
I shouted far louder than I meant to, and had to watch my nearby colleagues flinch and take a step back in surprise. Even the knights, standing some distance away, looked startled as they stared at me. The duty knight blocking the door glanced my way as well, so I had no choice but to apologize at once.
"...I raised my voice too much and caused discomfort. Still, I must ask. Has she been hurt?"
"Ah, no—she hasn't been injured. It's just that after receiving treatment, the patient threw such a violent tantrum that... she said she needed counsel. She told us Brother Gideon would know the matter best."
So she had acted according to her own convictions after all. Even though I had already warned her what the result might be.
"Understood. Brother Chapleton, leave the medicines I haven't finished calculating as they are, and please refer to the list of what I've already prepared in the notebook."
"Leave it to me. Shall we finish the remaining portion when you return?"
"No. The matter may drag on, so I'll complete the compounding myself once I'm back."
I nodded to the brothers and sisters behind me and hurried after the knights.
"Ah, Evan— ahem, ahem. Brother Gideon."
The face that had been about to greet me with open delight instantly hardened the moment she saw the knights behind me.
Ever since I had learned that this woman who always seemed so stern would drop her mask and relax only in front of me—so soon after we had begun seeing each other—my heart had pounded all the harder. And it was pounding now.
Watching her keep that rigid expression in front of the knights while she hastily dismissed them only made it worse.
"You've all done well. I'll submit the incident report by five this afternoon, so... you may withdraw for now."
"Very well. Are you... truly all right?"
"Brother Gideon is here, so I'm fine. You may leave."
Seeing her insist, face still stiff, that she was fine because I was present, and shoo the knights away, I could only flush even redder.
...I already knew how many men in this hospital harbored feelings for her. I also knew there were those who followed her with something closer to worship than mere admiration. She herself had told me there were elven men who had set their hearts on her as well. And the words she had added then still remained clear in my memory.
There's no need to worry so much. It's that foolish face of yours I like. I've never once given a second glance to any of those half-baked types putting on airs in front of me.
That it should surface in my mind again now, her casual yet utterly sincere remark, could hardly be coincidence.
She slammed the door shut so hard that even the departing knights' regretful backs vanished from sight, then came toward me muttering under her breath.
"Honestly, every last one of them—human or elf—even when I deliberately make it obvious I'm seeing you, there are more than a few who still cling. The ones barely worth calling my own kind sneer that short-lived races have nothing going for them, and your own kind come around with that filthy look of 'well, he managed it, so maybe I can too...'"
"That's how charming you are."
I had praised her appearance long before this. And I still offered her compliments every single day. Her smile and her touch had kept me from sleep, yet the moment I saw her, the fatigue vanished as if washed away.
"...Evan."
And now my heart had to race even harder.
"Wha—?! Wait a second?! Thea, this is a hospital—"
"Shhh... other people will hear."
She was holding me. Her arms wrapped around my chest and back, her hands gently stroking me, her face buried against my shoulder.
"Your scent is especially strong today..."
How could every single thing she said leave a person so completely unable to move? What on earth was I to her, that she would lean on me like this?
But more than that—
"What do you mean, my scent is strong— hnn, if you keep nuzzling your nose like that and tickling me with your breath, w-wait... ah..."
"Stay still. Don't squirm."
Wherever the strength came from, she now held me so tightly I couldn't budge an inch, and began to whisper slowly into my ear.
"I had no choice but to treat that man today. ...His son came looking for him, clinging to me while he watched his dying father. 'Big sister, big sister... please save Daddy. Daddy hurts so much.' The child fretted like that, and even his wife couldn't bring herself to stop him—she just stood there crying. Even though they were Hillmore too."
Her voice was quite hoarse. And the reason became clear a moment later, when a single hot droplet fell onto my shoulder.
"In the end he got angry at me. Salvation had been right in front of him, he said, and I had stolen the chance from him. That his great life had been completely ruined by my choice. He said all that, thrashing on the bed, grabbing whatever he could reach and flinging it... even though when I told his son and wife that I had broken doctrine to treat him, they were so relieved and happy."
Faith and life are never always connected. Having sat in a few scripture-interpretation gatherings myself, I felt her moment strike home with particular force. When a moment of life and one's faith collide head-on—that is the true test, I believe. Will you follow the faith, or follow yourself? And even if you forsake the faith, is that truly wrong?
She had saved a life and protected that man's family. She may have broken his faith, yet she had safeguarded the happiness of his child and wife.
She was leaning on me, waiting for an answer. Probably hoping I would affirm that she had been right.
"There are those who see this world as nothing more than a brief waystation on the road to the next. The Hillmore Sect is the prime example. But I don't think that way. I... believe that living in this world is important in its own right. I don't think your judgment was wrong. He still has a family to support. If he had died, those left behind would surely have been unhappy."
If it had been me, I would probably have tried to persuade him many times first, broken his stubbornness, and only then proceeded with treatment. If he had refused to the end, I would have given up. But because it was her way, she had been able to save his life—and his family.
So I slowly stroked the woman who was embracing me, who was trembling just a little.
"...I got scared, for a moment. That someone who still seemed so incomplete compared to the years I've lived would try to meet death so easily. My colleagues all just told me to leave him be... I don't really know why you came to mind. The face of that man lying on the bed, groaning in pain—for a moment, just a moment, it looked like yours—"
Her arms tightened around me even harder.
"You won't leave me like that, will you? Right?"
I saw that her eyes, meeting mine, were wet.
...But I don't think a short-lived human can give the exact answer she wants so clearly. I cannot live as long as she will. That is an unavoidable outcome, a rule of the world He shaped. Something that cannot be defied, only accepted. No matter how much one fears it, denies it, tries to flee—it will come around in the end, I believe.
Yet as for the timing itself, especially if it is for the happiness of someone precious—
"...I'll try my hardest."
At the very least, I could struggle and claw my way forward until my hair had gone completely white, couldn't I?