Reality Quest: Questism

On the way home, Jihan told me everything. 

Everything he had been through. 

Everything he had endured.

Everything he had never been able to say out loud until now.

"—and after what happened with Gumin, I just got even more timid," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Even in high school… I kept getting bullied."

I listened, letting him speak.

He let out a bitter laugh. "And that's why I still can't fight back."

I glanced at him. He wasn't looking at me, his gaze was fixed on the pavement, his shoulders slumped.

"Yeah," he muttered. "As much as I want to get myself out of these situations… it still almost feels like trauma to even try and fight back."

Silence stretched between us.

"I couldn't do anything. I'm pathetic, aren't I?"

I didn't say anything.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "And I feel like I dragged you into thi—"

"I'm going to stop you right there."

He blinked, startled.

I kept walking, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "Jihan, I went there because I wanted to. You're my friend. Am I just supposed to let you get slapped around by those bastards?"

He didn't respond.

"I can't promise I'll always be there to protect you," I continued. "But I can try."

Jihan went quiet. But I could feel it… the tension in his shoulders loosening, just a little.

We walked a few more steps in silence before I spoke again.

"What are you going to do about the videos and pictures?"

He hesitated. "I… I thought about it."

He lifted his head, looking up at the dark night sky. The city lights reflected in his eyes.

"I don't know how long it's going to take," he admitted. "But I think… I'll tell her. One thing at a time."

His breath came out in a slow exhale.

"I can't live my whole life running away from my past."

He turned toward me.

His expression was lighter now. Not free, not yet… but lighter.

"I think I can do it because… you were there with me today."

Jihan's lips curled into the smallest, faintest smile.

"…Thank you, Dowan."

The softness of it caught me off guard.

Before I could stop myself, I let out a short laugh and clapped him on the back, at the same time, peeling off the small device I'd stuck there earlier.

"Alright, enough of the cringe," I teased.

Jihan chuckled, rubbing the back of his head… then paused, his brows furrowing. "Wait… how did you even find me in that room?"

I held up the tiny, matte-black tracker between my fingers. "This."

He blinked, then his jaw dropped. "No way, you put a tracker on me? Is that why it's black?!"

"Camouflage," I said with a smirk. "You know, stealth mode."

Jihan stared at me for a moment before breaking into laughter again, shaking his head in disbelief. And just like that, the weight in the air lifted.

His laughter was infectious. I found myself grinning, chuckling along with him.

For a few moments, I let myself forget.

Forget that Jihan hadn't become the god-tier fighter I'd needed for my crew.

Forget that practically every plan I'd made had just been thrown out the window.

Forget that, after today, I'd have to start over.

Because none of that mattered right now.

What mattered was that I had already decided, regardless of what happened next, regardless of what changed…

I was going to do what I'd planned to do anyway.

Because Jihan was my friend. Fighter or no fighter, strength or no strength…I'd be there.

This wasn't transactional.

I dropped Jihan off at his house.

The housekeeper was worried sick about how late we were so while Jihan went up to his room, I had a small talk with her on how she probably shouldn't let his middle-school friends into the house anymore, which she quickly agreed to.

What a nice lady.

***

The hospital halls smelled like antiseptic and exhaustion.

It was late. Most of the lights had dimmed, and the night shift nurses were making their rounds, moving in quiet, tired motions.

I knew where I was going.

Room 407.

Jihan's mother had been here for five years now. Locked in a battle her body could no longer win.

A rare, degenerative condition. Something that attacked her muscles, her nerves. She could still move, still speak… but every movement drained her, every step came at a cost.

Some days, she could walk across the room. Other days, standing for too long made her collapse.

I stepped into the room.

Soft beeping filled the air, a heart monitor keeping a slow, steady rhythm.

She was awake.

Sitting up in bed, a blanket draped over her lap, a book resting against her hands. The moment I entered, her eyes lifted to mine.

Sharp. Perceptive.

"Dowan," she said softly, closing the book. "It's late."

I pulled up a chair beside her bed, letting out a breath. "Yeah."

She gave me a knowing look. "Jihan?"

"He's fine," I reassured. "Just tired."

She let out a quiet sigh, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "He's always been the type to hold things in."

I didn't say anything.

Because I knew she was right.

She reached for the glass of water on her bedside table, but her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted it.

I caught it before it could tip and then placed it back down on the table.

Holding up a bottle of water, I smiled. "Maybe you should drink this instead."

Her eyes flicked to it, mildly amused. "Still water?"

"Special water."

She chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Yup. Think of it as medicine." I moved closer, unscrewing the cap. "Trust me, you'll want to drink this."

She raised a brow but didn't protest as I handed it to her. Her fingers curled around the bottle, weak but steady.

Then, without much hesitation, she drank.

The moment the water touched her tongue, her eyes widened.

A sharp inhale.

She kept drinking.

Her throat worked as she swallowed every last drop, and then…

A shudder ran through her body.

She gasped, her fingers clenching around the empty bottle.

I watched as it happened.

The change.

Her breathing evened out. The constant strain that had been present in her posture, in her movements… gone.

Her hands curled and uncurled, smoothly, easily. She lifted her arm, staring at it in quiet shock.

Then, she looked at me. "Dowan… what did you put in this?"

I smiled softly. "Medicine."

Her sharp gaze pinned me down. "Don't lie to me."

I shrugged, standing up and slipping my hands into my pockets. "It's real medicine. Just not the kind you'd find in a hospital."

She was silent for a long moment, staring down at her own hands. Then she closed them into fists. Strong. Steady.

"…How long will this last?" she asked, voice quiet.

I exhaled. "Forever."

She froze.

I tapped the now-empty bottle on the table. "That wasn't normal medicine. It was a one-time treatment. Something that actually healed you, not just delayed things."

Her breath caught in her throat. "You're saying… I'm cured?"

I nodded. "Your body's still weak from five years of being stuck here, but yeah. The disease itself? It's gone."

She covered her mouth with one hand, her shoulders shaking.

For the first time since I walked in, I saw something in her expression I'd never seen before.

Hope.

Real, tangible hope.

Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Testing herself. Feeling the difference. Then… she stood.

Not in slow, agonizing effort. Not in the careful, shaky way she had before.

She just… stood.

Her chest rose and fell, her fingers curled and uncurled, her body steady. She looked down at herself in disbelief.

"…I…"

A quiet laugh, half in shock, half in joy.

"I can stand."

I leaned back, watching her take it all in. "Yeah. Probably not a great idea to start running marathons, but you're good now."

She turned to me, emotion thick in her voice. "Dowan… I don't even know what to say."

I tilted my head. "Thank you would work."

She let out a watery laugh. "Thank you."

Then, before I could react-

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.

It wasn't a weak hug. It wasn't hesitant. It was tight, warm, real.

Like she was afraid to let go. Like she needed to hold onto something solid. 

Something undeniable, just to convince herself this wasn't a dream.

I stood there, stiff, awkwardly patting her back. "Uh… there, there?"

She let out a choked laugh, but I could feel her trembling against me.

I didn't have to see her face to know she was crying.

She held on for a long moment before finally pulling back, wiping at her eyes.

"…You really are a strange boy," she murmured, voice thick with emotion.

I smiled. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

She took a shaky breath, looking down at her own hands again. Then, suddenly, she laughed.

A real, unrestrained laugh.

Like she'd been carrying something heavy for years and finally, finally, it was gone.

I turned toward the door. "Don't overdo it. Just because the disease is gone doesn't mean you're at full strength yet. And… don't tell anyone I did this. Jihan included." I whispered the last part.

She paused… but then nodded, still in a daze.

As I stepped out into the hallway, I could still hear her laughing softly, breathless with disbelief.

Like she didn't know if she was dreaming or awake.

I didn't look back.

I'd done what I came here to do.

***

Somewhere, beyond mortal comprehension, unseen eyes turned toward the world below.

A shift. A ripple.

The weight of a decision, made without words, settled into place.

[System Update: Restriction Applied]

— Healing effects now exclusive to the System User.

A quiet hum of finality.

Balance restored.

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Don't you guys just love friendship.

As always, reviews and stones are my beloved.