"So, how was your date with little Miss Curly?"

Niragi was lounging lazily in his hospital bed when I returned to the room, his phone propped up in one hand as he watched what sounded like some mindless action movie. Nothing new, really.

I picked up my book, flipped it open, and leaned back against my pillow.

"A complete waste of time," I replied curtly, not in the mood to elaborate.

"And what was so urgent that she practically begged me to talk you into meeting her?"

"No idea. She's convinced she knows me. I think she's just delusional or something."

"Ah, so she's not just cute, but also a little crazy. I like that in a woman. And those curves of hers-man, I bet she looks delicious naked. Don't you think?"

I paused for a moment but didn't bother looking up.

"Didn't really pay attention."

Niragi let out a chuckle and shot me a doubtful side glance.

"So, you're not into women, huh?" he sneered.

"I just don't care about things like that," I answered calmly, secretly hoping he would finally shut up. I, for one, wasn't going to miss his presence once we parted ways tomorrow.

"If I were you, I would've had my fun with her. The way she's obsessed with you, I bet she would've done anything for you. That's the best kind of deal you can get. But of course, you'd let a golden opportunity slip right through your fingers. That's just typical for a bore like you."

I raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Guess we have different definitions of fun."

"No offense, Blondie, but you don't exactly look like you've ever had fun in your entire life."

I smirked slightly.

"You're probably right."

I turned back to my book, hoping Niragi would finally let me read in peace. But my thoughts quickly drifted away from the text and back to that strange girl who had been so desperate to speak to me. The things she said sounded more like some absurd dystopia than a logical explanation. She could have easily picked up my name somewhere, but how did she know the real reason I pursued medicine? That was something I had never told anyone. Not even my parents knew.

If her bizarre story was actually true, then that would mean I had trusted her-deeply.

So how was it possible that I didn't remember anything? It made no sense. And it wasn't even about her mentioning near-death experiences. There were plenty of neurological studies on the subject, countless accounts from people who had been close to death. The brain activity during such moments surged in a way that could theoretically be induced by drug use. But the idea that she had gained personal knowledge about people she had never met before during such an experience?

That was impossible.

If anything, her claims only raised more questions than they answered. There was no logical explanation for how she knew so much about me.

Could she have been telling the truth after all?

I shook my head at the thought.

Definitely not.

I cast a glance at Niragi, who had also been mentioned by that girl.

"What do you remember from when your heart stopped?" I asked finally.

Niragi looked up from his screen, momentarily surprised. Then, a smug grin spread across his face as he stared wistfully at the ceiling.

"Man, it was like being on the ultimate trip. I was completely free, could do whatever the hell I wanted. Even the chicks did whatever I told them to. Everyone feared me, and for a moment, I felt invincible."

"Did you meet anyone there that you've seen again here?"

"No clue. Don't really remember it that clearly. It was just like a crazy drug high."

What he described aligned with the scientific studies on near-death experiences. But then, why could that wild-haired girl recall so many details while I couldn't remember a thing?

Logically, because she had lied, I answered my own question.

But what would she gain from lying? Was it just a ploy to get my attention, or was she truly just insane?

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't make sense of that girl.

◇

A few days after my discharge, I was already back at work. One hospital to another, except this time, I stand on the other side again. The strange girl had already faded from my mind as my daily routine swallowed me up.

Despite telling myself I would change my life after my near-death experience, everything remained the same. Transplant waiting lists were manipulated at the whim of the chief physician, as if he reveled in playing God. As if lives were nothing more than pieces on his personal chessboard.

Small, insignificant pawns were discarded, sentenced to die.

For the first time, I truly saw how unjust it all was. No, I had always known it-but now I could see it. How sick this world really was.

And all this time, I thought something was wrong with me.

I thought I was numb, cold-hearted, incapable of feeling empathy. But the truth was, I just wanted to feel something-whether sadness or joy, either would have sufficed.

But all I felt now was rage.

And it was unsatisfying.

I saw grieving mothers and furious fathers. But most of all, I saw dying children.

It was a miracle the hospital hadn't been hit with any major lawsuits yet. But I suspected it was only a matter of time.

I kept up my usual detached observer act, but in reality, I was counting the days until the semester ended. Before that, however, I had to complete my first independent surgery-a requirement to finish my clinical year. It was just an appendectomy, a simple procedure, so I wasn't particularly worried. I could recite the entire process in my sleep.

But the day before my scheduled operation, something unexpected happened.

When I arrived for my shift, I found a bag of cookies on my desk. That, in itself, wasn't what caught my attention. It was the playing card taped to it.

The Jack of Hearts.

"Where did this come from?" I asked Nakamura, another med student who had started at the hospital the same time as me.

He shrugged.

"Chief said your girlfriend dropped it off for you after you left yesterday."

I frowned.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Nakamura grinned.

"Then I guess it was just a secret admirer. You should share some of them with me sometime." He grumbled before heading out of the office.

I stared at the card, then peeled it off the plastic bag with a quick tug.

Turning it over, I read the message:

A little nourishment for your nerves.
I think you'll like them.
Enjoy!

There was no signature, but I knew exactly who had left it.

I let out a quiet sigh.

So, she knew where I worked, too.

Why wasn't I even surprised?

For the rest of the day, I kept wondering why she had done it.

Did she still believe we knew each other from some parallel world?

And why cookies, of all things?

Was it some kind of hidden message? Or was I just overanalyzing things?

◇

J

ust one day later, Nakamura came to see me in the room of a young patient who had suffered several fatal fractures while skating. I was just about to apply a plaster cast to her wrist when he leant towards me and lowered his voice.

"Your admirer is here," he whispered softly. "She's waiting outside in the corridor. And she looks pretty cute. So if you turn her down, she's welcome to cry on my shoulder."

"As you can see, I'm busy at the moment," I said curtly, although I was a little surprised that she had actually come here after our last conversation. Obviously I hadn't made it clear enough to her that I wanted nothing to do with this story.

"Well, at least it looked like she would wait longer if necessary. Anyway, I just thought you should know."

"Thank you, Nakamura," I said and then turned back to my work.

After ten months, he still hadn't realised that he shouldn't barge into the treatment room with trivialities without being asked. Same old story.

"Is it comfortable like that?" I asked when I had finished applying the bandage. The 13-year-old girl called Yoko nodded shyly and her cheeks turned a little pink.

"You were very brave," I praised her.

"Do you have someone you like, Doctor?" she asked quietly, chewing nervously on her lower lip. "Like... someone special."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"You mean apart from you? No."

She covered her face with her hands, embarrassed.

"I mean more like... a girlfriend."

"No, I don't have one. Why?" I asked, slightly amused.

She giggled coyly.

"Just because..."

"Get some rest now until your father picks you up."

Yoko nodded hesitantly.

When I finally stepped out into the hallway, my eyes immediately landed on the bench where she was seated.

It was her-the persistent stalker from the hospital.

She sat there alone, absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. She wore an almost white dress with a ruffled hem and a rounded collar, layered under a thin, pale blue cardigan. Her leg was still wrapped in a cast.

The moment she noticed me, her face brightened instantly.

Using one of her crutches for support, she slowly rose from the bench but hesitated, as if holding herself back. A shy smile played on her lips as I stepped toward her and stopped directly in front of her.

"Hello, Chishiya," she murmured.

"So, you figured out where I work too. Oh wait-let me guess," I said, voice laced with sarcasm. "I must have told you myself, right?"

She pursed her lips stubbornly.

"Not exactly. I know because we were here together."

"Of course. I should have guessed," I replied, unable to hide the dry amusement in my tone. "What exactly do you want from me?"

She lowered her gaze, looking a bit crestfallen.

"Honestly... I just wanted to see you. That's all."

I tilted my head slightly, scrutinizing her expression. But surprisingly, she seemed sincere.

She looked up again, locking eyes with me.

"Did you get my little gift?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. Though I don't quite understand what you're trying to say with it."

"Just try them. Trust me," she said confidently.

"Trust you? Even though I don't even know you?"

"I know it's not easy. But I still hope that your memories will come back."

"Why me, of all people? You didn't seem to care whether Niragi remembered or not."

She gave an awkward smile.

"Honestly? Niragi was someone I'd rather forget."

"So, assuming your story is actually true, then you and I must have had some kind of... close relationship?"

"That's right," she said, rubbing the back of her neck as her cheeks flushed slightly.

"This kind of relationship?" I pressed, though her body language had already given me the answer.

"Yes," she whispered, trying to hide her burning face behind her hands. "But you don't believe me anyway, so it doesn't matter. The only thing I want is to just sit here and be near you. If... that's not too weird for you."

I frowned slightly at her words, but I didn't have time to dwell on them.

"I need to get back to work, Izumi-san. All I can say is: this is a public building."

I turned away without waiting for her reaction.

"Just call me Tsuki, okay?" she called after me.

Why did she want me to call her by her first name? Probably because I had done so before-at least, according to her questionable claims.

It felt strange.

Technically, she was a stranger to me.

And yet, her sudden reappearance at my workplace preoccupied me more than I would have liked.

"What's the matter with you, huh?"

Uchida, the chief surgeon, asked me as I assisted him in a hernia operation later that day.

"What do you mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're distracted. Did I say we needed a mesh for this procedure?"

He gestured toward the instruments I had laid out.

"For younger children, we only use stitches since their bodies are still growing. The synthetic mesh doesn't grow with them. I assumed you knew that, Chishiya."

"My apologies, Sensei. It won't happen again," I assured him and set out the proper sutures instead.

"Leave your personal issues outside and focus."

I nodded, forcing my thoughts back into order.

After the operation, I disinfected my hands and headed toward the vending machines to grab a coffee. My body demanded caffeine at this hour, just to keep functioning.

I had never fully adjusted to the grueling night shifts.

As I walked down the corridor, I saw her again.

The stalker.

She was still here.

She was carrying a cup of coffee and, to my surprise, she held it out to me with a warm smile.

"Here, I just got this. It's still hot."

I was genuinely caught off guard this time. Not only because she was still lingering around-but because she had somehow predicted exactly what I needed.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked instead of taking the cup. "It's already past midnight."

"Don't worry about it. I'm a night owl anyway."

"And obviously very naive," I muttered. "Do you really think I'm going to believe your absurd story just because you bought me coffee?"

She lowered her gaze slightly, looking disappointed.

"No, Chishiya. I don't expect that. I just wanted to be nice."

"Why?"

"Because I... like you. A lot. But you probably already knew that."

"I had my suspicions."

"Please, just take it."

She extended the cup toward me again, her expression hopeful.

I let out a quiet sigh and finally accepted it.

For the briefest moment, our fingers brushed against each other.

And just like that-

A vision flashed through my mind.

I was in a car. Izumi sat beside me in the passenger seat. My hand rested on the gear shift, and her fingers hesitantly traced the back of my hand.

I flinched slightly at her touch, as if burned, and stared down at my own hand in disbelief.

Then I looked at her.

She smiled softly, and an unfamiliar warmth rippled through me.

I snapped back to the present, staring at the coffee cup in my hand.

Her unexpected touch had thrown me off for a moment.

Or rather, what it triggered.

That vision-where had it come from?

I was certain I had never seen this women before.

And yet, I had just remembered something.

I took a slow sip of the coffee, pushing the unsettling thought away.

"Thanks," I muttered.

She beamed.

"You're welcome. And you don't have to pay me back, okay?"

"If you insist."

"I do."

"Alright, seriously-how did you find out where I work?" I asked, because that question still bothered me.

She chuckled playfully.

"I consulted my magic crystal ball, of course."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" I muttered.

"I already told you, Chishiya. Why would I lie to you?"

"I think it's better if you leave now. Visiting hours ended long ago, and the other staff will start asking questions soon."

She looked down, visibly disappointed.

"If you really want me to leave, I will. I can't force my presence on you. But... I'd like to come back, if that's okay."

"You're incredibly persistent, aren't you?"

She smiled again.

"Someone very important to me once said they admired my determination. Ever since then, I've vowed never to give up, no matter how hopeless the situation seems."

"So, you're saying you're going to follow me around for the rest of my life?"

"Only until you remember."

"And if I never do?"

She hesitated, then took a deep breath.

"If you never do... then I guess I'll have to give up, no matter how much it hurts. All I want is for you to be happy, Chishiya."

I stared at her uncomprehendingly and was mildly astonished by her selflessness.

Why did she care if I was happy? After all, I was nothing but a stranger to her. At least that's what I thought, but what if she was telling the truth?

Could it be that we had actually met before? And if so, had I reciprocated her feelings?

Unlikely.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that I would never fall head over heels in love with someone. It wasn't in my nature to recklessly give up my independence and throw myself at some random woman. It wasn't as if I hadn't tried it before.

In the end, though, it had just been another desperate attempt to somehow feel alive. But even the sex had felt dull and unsatisfying, so I hadn't felt the urge to try again. It wasn't a lack of offers, but rather a lack of interest on my part. There simply hadn't been a single person to spark my curiosity. But the young woman with the warm smile in front of me remained a mystery to me.

She was nothing but a stranger to me.

Wasn't she?

"I need to get back to work," I finally said, turning away.

"See you tomorrow," she called after me.

And, strangely enough-

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

The appendectomy went smoothly. Just as I expected, the procedure was routine and uneventful. The chief surgeon even offered me a rare, sincere word of praise-a rarity from him.

"He seems to like you," Nakamura mused as we sat in the break room afterward.

"That's nonsense," I replied flatly.

"He likes you because you're a freaking genius. I wish things came as easily to me as they do to you. You're seriously lucky, man." Nakamura sighed theatrically before stuffing his mouth with a few rice balls.

"Lucky?" I echoed, almost amused. "Intelligence doesn't mean much when you're powerless."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" he mumbled, mouth still half-full.

"Never mind," I muttered, regretting I had even spoken. As if Nakamura would understand something like that.

He continued munching away, blissfully ignorant.

Then, out of nowhere, he said:

"Oh, by the way. She was here again."

I lifted my head slightly.

"The young woman?"

"Yeah, your little admirer. She asked about you."

"And what did you tell her?"

"I said you're a cold-hearted bastard who dumps every woman that comes his way and that she should just give up on you and go out with me instead," he said with a cheeky grin.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Did you really?"

"What? That's what everyone says about you, anyway."

I stood up abruptly. Nakamura blinked at me in confusion.

"Where are you going now?"

I smirked.

"Dump her."

Nakamura gawked at me, dumbfounded, as I left.

When I found her, she was sitting on the same bench as the previous day, a sketchbook resting on her lap.

She was completely absorbed in whatever she was drawing, not noticing my approach.

As I got closer, she finally sensed my presence and looked up, her eyes wide and bright.

The moment she saw me, her expression softened.

"Chishiya," she breathed, quickly snapping her sketchbook shut.

"You clearly don't have a home," I remarked, arms crossed.

"Well, I'm still on sick leave, and staying home all day is driving me crazy. But, of course, I'm also happy that I get to see you again."

"You do know that stalking is a crime, right?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"I promise I won't do anything to bother or distract you," she assured me. "I just want to be near you. If you really don't want that, just say so."

I sighed quietly.

"Do whatever you want. But I can't promise that security won't kick you out at some point."

She grinned.

"Well, I do look like a patient with my cast and all."

"Just... not like a minor."

"Yeah, fair point," she admitted with a sheepish chuckle.

"Just try not to get in anyone's way."

She nodded in understanding.

"Have you tried the cookies yet?"

"Not yet."

"You should," she insisted.

I shook my head in disbelief and walked past her.

Why was she so adamant that I eat them?

Could it really be related to our so-called shared past?

Back at my desk, I pulled open a drawer, grabbed the bag of cookies, and examined them.

They were simple, round wheat cookies with a hint of vanilla. Nothing remarkable.

I opened the package, pulled one out, and studied it for a moment before taking a bite.

The office around me vanished.

Suddenly, I was sitting at a long wooden table in what looked like a storage room.

A group of people sat around me, each wearing strange collars with symbols on them.

Just a few seats away, a young woman with dark curls was sketching something absentmindedly on a notepad.

When she noticed me watching her, she blushed.

She quickly brushed her bangs down to hide her face, but I could still see the way her fingers trembled slightly.

The vision disappeared as quickly as it had come. I stood frozen, staring at the half-eaten cookie in my hand.

What the hell was that?

That memory-was it real?

Had I actually been there before?

Was she really in it?

And if so, why did it feel like I was watching a scene from a movie rather than recalling my own past?

I took a second bite-

Nothing happened.

No memory. No vision. Just the taste of a plain vanilla cookie.

I shoved the cookie back into the bag, frustrated.

Damn it.