"You're getting older, and you'll see that life isn't like your fairy tales. The world is a cruel place. And you'll learn that, even if it hurts."

-Carmen-

"Pan's Labyrinth"

I was leaning against the windowsill with my arms crossed, only half looking at the patient files in my hand. My attention, however, was focussed on Izumi, who slipped into Ann's office with her head down. She was so obviously trying not to attract attention that it was almost comical.

Like a shy deer, I thought with amusement. The long fringes she nervously tucked into her forehead almost hid half her face. It was fascinating that she thought it would actually make her more inconspicuous.

I waited until she stood at her locker and hastily opened it before I broke the silence.

"Wow, new look? Are you going to tell me that I only have seven days left, or will that come after the videotape?"

Her shoulders stiffened. Slowly, she turned to me and gave me a look that elicited exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

Perfect.

"Very funny," she growled, and I could see her hands aimlessly rummaging around in her locker. "Maybe I just like my hair that way," she added, her voice deliberately indifferent, but the slight blush on her face gave her away.

"Sure." I made my voice sound dry. "Or you're just afraid I'll see the blush on your face. Red suits you, by the way."

She paused for a split second. Her eyes met mine, unsure whether it was the usual mockery or actually a serious compliment. I could see her struggling inwardly.

She turned to me in slow motion and looked at me defiantly.

"It's just... warm here, okay?" she shot back, more sharply than I'd expected.

Her hands were still rummaging in her locker, as if that would calm her nerves.

"Of course. Warm," I repeated with a hint of amusement. She was so delightfully easy to upset. Without looking up, I continued, "But probably not as warm as last night when you claimed your palpitations were a noise the lift was making or... that I look cute when I'm annoyed. Interesting compliment, by the way."

Her reaction was priceless. Her fingers twitched, her lips pushed forward and the red in her face darkened even more. I could literally see how uncomfortable she was with the memories of last night.

"I didn't... I didn't s-say that," she stammered, her voice a weak attempt at defence. I struggled to suppress my grin. It was always entertaining to provoke her and see how my presence upset her. "I mean, I was drunk. It was... I was just rambling, all right? None of it was serious. I was just... teasing you."

"Mmm." I lifted my gaze from the papers, letting her fidget and revelling in the sight of her helplessness. "So... you're teasing me by complimenting me? That's something different."

"Not serious compliments!" she emphasised, her voice sounding an octave higher than usual. She immediately bit her lip.

I lowered the papers and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"What a pity. I thought drunk people always told the truth."

"That's a myth," she replied snappishly as she fished her work clothes out of the locker. Her movements were uncoordinated, almost frantic. "Drunks tell... creative versions of the truth. There's a big difference."

"Creative versions, then?" I let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, savouring the way she faltered. "So, in your creative truth, I'm cute and your heart beats faster because of me. Sounds pretty realistic to me."

She slammed the locker door shut, and I could hear her take a deep breath like she was about to explode.

"Stop that!" she shouted, so forcefully that I almost had to smile. "You're not cute, Chishiya, you're... you're obnoxious!"

"Obnoxious, but not unattractive," I countered, my mouth slightly twisted into a mocking smile.

"Obnoxiously arrogant," she hissed back, her eyes sparkling. "Now leave me alone so I can change."

I just nodded and turned towards the door. But before I passed it, I paused.

It was just too tempting.

I turned round to face her again.

"You know, I could just keep quiet," I said without hiding my grin. "But I get the impression that you're enjoying this as much as I am."

She stared at me, speechless. The slight blush on her face was all I had wanted to see.

I turned round and locked the door behind me.

"Idiot," was all I heard her swear on the other side.

A soft laugh escaped my lips as I entered the examination room.

She made it so easy for me.

But somewhere at the back of my mind, a voice stirred.

Why was I even bothering? Why was it so important to me to lure her out of her shell?

I pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time for unnecessary questions. All that mattered was that it worked - and it did. Izumi had long since fallen for me. She may not have realised it yet, but her every gesture, from her rosy cheeks to her trembling hands, was an open book to me. She couldn't look at me without her eyes twitching nervously to the side, couldn't be near me without a blush shooting up her face. A game of cat and mouse - and I was the cat. What was still missing was the right moment to snap the trap shut. And I suspected it would come. Soon.

Perhaps I should have taken advantage of the moment of closeness between us in the lift. In her inebriated state, she would have been an easy target. But that wasn't my style. I wasn't like Niragi. I was someone who manipulated people, not forced my closeness on them. And I certainly didn't need to drug them to achieve my goal. Manipulation was more subtle, more elegant - I made people believe it was their own decision. I made sure that they came to me of their own free will, without even realising that they were hanging by a thread that I held in my hand.

I raised my head when I heard excited voices coming from the corridor. Footsteps and commotion could be heard. The first players had already arrived. There was an urgent knock on the door. Before I could answer, it swung open and two men entered, a third in their midst, pale as a sheet, hanging in their arms. Sweat shone on his forehead and he groaned in agony. My gaze travelled down to his leg. A thick metal rod was sticking out of his thigh. Blood had collected in the area and the fabric of his trousers was completely soaked.

A cursory glance was enough to realise the situation. The rod had pierced deep into his thigh, right where the femoral artery ran. The man's pallor, the cold sweat on his forehead and the shallow, intermittent breathing were clear signs of shock. His chances of survival, if any, were minimal. But I could only say more after a closer examination.

"Please, help him!" one of the men shouted breathlessly as they struggled to support the injured man. "He... He made it out of the game, but he almost collapsed when we got here."

The other nodded frantically and added:

"That... That thing caught him when he jumped. We could barely pick him up. Please, he... he deserved to make it! He helped us."

Their voices were panicked, almost pleading. But before I could say anything, we were interrupted by Izumi, who came rushing headlong into the room, her hands still busy tying her unruly hair into a plait.

"Hey, what happened?" she asked breathlessly as she looked over at the injured man. Her eyes widened in shock and she swallowed audibly when she saw the wound. "Oh Gosh."

The words seemed to have stuck in her throat. She lifted her head and looked at me helplessly. I just nodded curtly. She returned it and her uncertainty was suddenly replaced by a determined sparkle in her eyes. She got moving, quickly slipped on a pair of gloves and grabbed the paper towels to prepare the examination couch.

"Put him here on the couch," I instructed the two men when she was finished. "I'll have a look at him."

My voice was calm and composed, as always. I had been in this kind of dicey situation countless times before. Panic didn't help here. Neither for me nor for the person concerned. You needed a clear, cool head to stay focussed.

The two men lifted him onto the stretcher, carefully, but their every movement made the injured man groan in agony. The bar in his leg left him in no other position than lying on his side. His breathing was shallow, almost frantic, and his eyes were darting around the room without any focus.

I spoke briefly to his companions and asked a few relevant questions about the accident, their answers were hectic and fragmented, but they were enough to give me an idea. Then I asked them to wait outside.

When they had disappeared, I turned my attention to the patient. I put on fresh gloves while my eyes glided over his body again, scanning him carefully.

The man in front of me was no more than 20, had a slight beard on his chin and semi-long hair styled into dreadlocks, almost like Kuina's. But I paid particular attention to the medical evidence. I took a closer look at the injured leg and checked the pulse on the tibial artery. No results. No sign of blood circulation in the limb.

Another clear sign that the fermoral artery had been injured. The rod had not only pierced the tissue, but was probably also blocking the blood supply.

Izumi stepped closer, hands clasped nervously in front of her chest as she bit her lip, probably unconsciously. Her eyes darted ominously back and forth between the patient and me.

"Should I prepare something? Compresses? Pressure bandages?" she asked in a shaky voice.

I didn't answer. Instead, I checked the temperature of the skin underneath the injury - it was ice-cold. The leg had already been cut off from the blood supply. My gaze continued to wander. His breathing was still shallow and irregular, his skin sticky and his blood pressure extremely low. Symptoms of hypovolaemic shock.

"Can I..." Izumi began, but I only raised a hand.

"Hush," I said quietly but firmly as I carefully palpated the surrounding skin - it was already swollen and hardened under my fingers.

The injury wasn't just serious, it was fatal. Even in a fully equipped operating theatre, the prognosis would have been poor. Here, in Borderland, it was hopeless.

The patient squirmed and groaned again. Before I could plan my next move, Izumi was back on her feet and returned with a damp cloth, which she gently placed on the patient's forehead.

"I'll make him a little more comfortable," she said more to herself than to me. He looked up at her with glazed eyes. "I know it hurts, but you've made it this far. You just have to hang in there a little longer. We'll take care of you."

Her voice was calm, almost beseeching, and I could see the tension in the man's body ease slightly. She held his gaze while she gently stroked his arm with her other hand. I watched her out of the corner of my eye.

She had learnt so much.

Not only the technical procedures that I had shown her - but also the interpersonal skills that I myself had always considered dispensable. Her way of talking to the patient, of reassuring him, was almost... impressive.

She looked up at me briefly, as if seeking reassurance. I gave her a curt nod, a silent sign that she should continue. Then she turned her attention back to the man.

"Chishiya's a really good doctor, you know? I'm sure he'll fix it," I heard her continue talking to him. My hands paused and I raised my head, almost surprised by her praise, which sounded unexpectedly sincere. "You're really lucky you ended up with him."

She gave him an encouraging smile. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Listen, I don't need a PR campaign."

Her cheeks immediately took on a hint of colour again.

"I'm just telling the truth."

"The truth is, he's losing too much blood," I said matter-of-factly. "The artery is most likely damaged. No pulse in the leg, no feeling in the limb."

"What does that mean? There's something we can do, isn't there?"

Her voice became shriller again. I looked at her seriously before letting my gaze wander over the patient again, who was getting paler by the second.

"We can relieve his pain," I said plainly, as if I had just told her the current weather forecast.

It took a moment for the meaning of my words to sink in.

"But... we must be able to do something, right? We-... you can operate, can't you?"

I shook my head.

"There would be no point. As soon as we remove the rod, he'll die from blood loss. And if we don't, he'll die of septicaemia at the latest. The chances of him making it are zero."

"Then we'll take his leg off," she said energetically, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

I laughed dryly.

"Yes, of course. Because we're in a fully equipped clinic. Let me just get the surgical instruments and blood packs out of the cupboard. Oh yes, and the anaesthetic. You'll do that with a pat on the back and a few reassuring words?"

She stared at me, her lips pressed tightly together, while I continued to speak calmly.

"How do you think an amputation works? Do you think I can just do it between two patients? Maybe with kitchen scissors? We have no sterile conditions, no blood reserves and, oh yes, no chance of survival for him. But sure, Izumi, we can take his leg off and watch him die anyway. Sounds like a great plan."

I crossed my arms and saw her eyes narrow with anger.

"So you're just going to give up without trying? You're going to let him die just because it's difficult? You swore to help people, or does this not count because it's too much trouble?" The tremor in her voice revealed that she wasn't just angry, she was desperate. "We could get Ann. Maybe she knows something we missed. Maybe we could stabilize him until... until..."

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

"Until what?" I interrupted her, my voice cool but not loud. "Until a miracle happens? Ann's not a surgeon and she'd tell you exactly the same thing. But suppose he were to miraculously survive. How long do you think he would survive with one leg in this world? I think realistically, Izumi. You should do the same. The best thing we can do is to take away his pain."

She scowled at me as if I was personally responsible for his suffering. She didn't seem to want to admit that the man was already dead when he entered this room. And that was not due to my competence. Under normal circumstances, he might have had a chance, even if it was infinitesimal. But here... in this world, where we only had the bare necessities, he was doomed to die. And even the most experienced surgeon couldn't change that.

Izumi said nothing more. Instead, she lowered her head in resignation. The patient gasped again.

"I-I don't want to die... please..." he managed to say in a weak voice.

Izumi stroked his arm soothingly, her lips pressed tightly together again, while I went to the cupboard to prepare the injection. The sight of her trembling hands stopped me for a moment longer than was necessary. But I said nothing.

"Don't be afraid. You'll soon be out of pain," she said quietly, almost in a whisper. "It's like falling asleep... peacefully."

The man gasped again, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"But... I don't w-want to..."

Izumi lowered her eyes before continuing in a soft voice.

"I understand that it scares you. But... you know, I... I've been there before. On the other side." Her voice quivered, but she kept talking as she gently dabbed his forehead. "It was... it was like flying. Like I was a bird or a disembodied spirit floating over the city. I felt so light, so free. All the pain was suddenly... disappeared. It was as if I had left my human shell behind me. There was no fear, only peace and light."

The man blinked blearily, his glassy eyes fixed on her as if she were his only anchor.

"Really...?" he whispered, almost as if he wanted to hold on to it.

"Yes. Really," she said with a faint smile. "It wasn't the end, it was more... like a beginning. It was nice and I didn't really want to go back, but..."

She looked up and our eyes met for a moment. I had the syringe in my hand and approached the couch. The man seemed calmer, less tense, his breathing still shallow but more even. Her eyes rested firmly on me. It was a moment of silent understanding.

"You're not alone," she added as she continued to hold the man's arm. "I'll stay here with you."

With practuced hands I injected him a small amount of phenobarbital intravenously. The drug would allow him to fall asleep peacefully - without pain.

It would be quick.

Before I had finished, Izumi began to hum. A soft melody that sounded gentle and soothing, like a lullaby. The man slowly closed his eyes and his face became increasingly relaxed under the effect of the medication.

I looked at Izumi, who was focussing all her attention on the dying man as she continued to hum absently. For some reason, I couldn't stop watching her as she immersed herself in accompanying this strange man to his final resting place. She suddenly seemed so calm and composed, as if she had finally accepted that she had to let him go.

I watched as the man lowered his eyelids with one last deep breath. His face was relaxed, as if he had found peace in his own way. Izumi slowly stopped humming and the silence that fell over the room was almost suffocating.

She sat still, still holding his arm, although it was no longer necessary, and gazed at his motionless figure. Her eyes glinted slightly in the light.

Hesitantly, I stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a cautious, almost intimate gesture, something I normally avoided. But at that moment, it felt right.

"You helped him leave in peace," I said quietly, with my usual sobriety. "It was all we could do."

She slowly lifted her head and looked at me, her lips trembling, but she said nothing. Maybe she didn't know what to say. Maybe it wasn't necessary.

I let my hand rest briefly on her shoulder before I turned away and began to tidy up the rest of the utensils.

The room was still filled with that awkward silence, but this time it felt different. Heavy, but also somehow... peaceful.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Izumi still sitting by the couch, her fingers resting gently on the man's cold hand. She seemed lost in her thoughts, but not broken. More like she was realising something - something she couldn't put into words.

The world we found ourselves in was merciless. It devoured the weak and left little room for mercy. But in that moment of her gentle touch and the song she had hummed, something stirred in me that surprised me: a touch of humanity. And with it a warmth that I hadn't felt for a long time - so fleeting that I almost thought I had imagined it.

"Come on, Izumi," my tone was still more considerate than usual. "The next players will be arriving any minute. We have to get him out of here first."

Yes, I uploaded 2 chapters today cause I thought that I really have to catch up with the german version a little. Now it's "only" 6 chapters difference between the german version. I'm off for a week by the end of March so I hope I can do more chapters then. The next chapter the costume ball will start. Hope you're looking forward to that.