It’s already Thursday afternoon and Hong is in immense pain again. Again, they’ve requested my presence, and for the time being, I’ve indulged them. It’s not like I had any other plans for the day, and their condition is so worrisome I feel it would be selfish of me to pay attention to anything but them. They’ve been in pain like this for a good while now, they were injured terribly and have been going through all the motions of healing. It’s difficult to see them like this, but there’s not much I can do for them besides bandage their wounds and tend to their needs as best I can as they are incapable of taking care of themself in this state.

They haven’t spoken a word to me in hours; all they’ve had the energy to do is cry silently, it seems. They’re still weak, and the fact they’ve not eaten much this entire week certainly isn’t helping. I was able to convince them to eat a few pieces of fruit— more than they ate yesterday— but clearly it’s still not enough.

“Are you sure that’s all you want to eat?” I ask, glancing at the mostly-full plate in my hands and sighing, “At this rate, you’ll never get your strength back.”

Hong looks up at me, eyes wet and dull under their unkempt bangs.

“I can’t eat any more. Do you want me to puke, Anton?” They hiss, exasperated.

“Of course not,” I reply, trying to hide the growing frustration in my voice, “I’m not forcing you to eat. I suppose I’ll leave this here for now, if you do feel hungry later on.” I gingerly set the plate on their nightstand.

Hong’s sour attitude has been very stressful as of late, but considering their situation they have every right to be sour. They’re hurting, and terrible as it is, there’s just not much either of us can do about that now. I must not take it personally. They’re not upset with me, but rather the unfortunate situation that they’re in.

We remain in silence for a few moments, and I can’t help but notice how dry their lips are. They’re beginning to crack. I haven’t a clue how they can just sit there like that. Surely, the sensation must be quite unpleasant…

“Are you thirsty at all?”

They nod weakly, sitting up. I hand them the small cup that’s been sitting on their nightstand for a few days. I’ve been replacing the water daily, but I suppose they really haven’t been drinking enough of it if their lips are that chapped. Their hands are weak; their fingers tremble as they hold the cup in an unsteady grasp.

“Here, I’ll help you,” I cover their hands with mine, “I don’t want you spilling that everywhere.”

They drink, slowly, seemingly relishing every drop of water they ingest. Then, they stop.

“Can you…” they whisper shyly, “My hair…”

“Hm? Can you speak up?”

“Can you hold my hair back wh… while I drink? The front parts are getting in my face.”

“Of course,” I tuck their sidelocks behind their ears and brush their bangs out of their eyes, “Your hair is getting quite long. When you’re well again, are you going to cut it?”

They shake their head ‘no’, finishing the last bits of their drink.

“No, I think I like it long. I’ve never been allowed to have long hair,” they frown as they put their cup back.

“So I see,” I reply. I’d all but forgotten the oppressive circumstances of their upbringing, something about being raised in a doomsday cult and then an institution of some sort… I was never privy to every detail, and Hong themself had never told me more than I needed to know, but from what I was able to glean it seemed true they’d never had any real freedom or personal liberties up until now.

Hong lays back down. At this point, even sitting upright and talking for a few minutes depletes all their energy. Poor thing. It’s not entirely my fault they were injured so terribly, but I still feel responsible somehow. They’re my protégé, and they were injured under my supervision… To hell with that. There’s no use ruminating on the past and the things I cannot change. All there is to worry about now is their recovery, however rocky of a journey it’s turning out to be so far.

“Anton,” they mumble, sniffling. They’ve begun to cry again.

“Yes?” I look down at them. They look pathetic, and it rends my heart. They’re in such great pain and they don’t deserve this. Not at all.

“My arm…”

“I know,” I sigh, “I know it hurts. I don’t know what you want me to do about that. Shall I replace your bandages? Shall I put more salve on the wounds?” I make no effort to hide my exasperation. Although they’re the one suffering most, it’s truly unfair how hard this is on me as well. I wish they realized how badly all this affects me, and how difficult it is to see them like this.

They shake their head ‘no’, instead extending their trembling hands to mine.

“Can’t you use your magic again?” They interlace their fingers with mine, and my heart skips a beat. Their hands feel warm, and I shudder at the contact.

“I-I mean, I can try, I suppose. I don’t know if much will happen. It’s not what it used to be,” I stutter awkwardly. When they’d first gotten injured, I’d used my most powerful magic to keep them alive and prevent their injury from spreading any further than it already had. That took everything out of me, and since then, my magic prowess has greatly decreased. I don’t completely understand why, but until my powers are fully restored, we must both learn to cope with this newfound weakness of mine.

I let go of their hands, peeling off the bandages on their left arm as gently as I can. They wince at the sensation of peeling gauze, but say nothing.

“I think it was about time to change these bandages, anyway,” I muse aloud as I continue removing them, “I’ll get you some new ones after we’re done here.”

I finally free their arm from the rest of the gauze covering it. The skin underneath is covered in angry red marks that resemble branches of lightning. Those will definitely leave behind a rather ugly scar, to say the least. I try not to stare too hard, but their injuries are so striking it’s incredibly difficult not to.

“Alright,” I take their too-thin arm in my hands anxiously, “I’m not sure how well this will work. Please don’t be upset with me if this fails…”

Hong looks at me wordlessly, weary optimism in their eyes.

I close my eyes, channeling every ounce of magic I have left in me. I can feel it— Yes, as weak as the magic flowing through my veins may be, it’s still working. The cool sensation of pure magic transfers from my fingertips to their skin; I open my eyes and marvel at the soft purple glow emanating from my hands and dissolving into their flesh.

Hong is staring, too, wide-eyed, as if it’s their first time ever seeing something like this. Accident-prone as they are, healing them has been a somewhat regular occurrence ever since we were first acquainted. Every time, though, feels like the first time, and even though I am not as powerful as I once was, their awe makes me feel strong as ever.

“…Feels cold,” is all they can say as the magic soon stops flowing.

“Ugh, you say that every time,” I remove my hands from their arm, wiping away the beads of sweat I did not realize had begun to form on my forehead, “How do you feel?”

They glance at their arm, then at me.

“Better,” they surmise.

“Good,” I feel so exhausted. I think I probably overexerted myself doing this. If I weren’t already sitting down, I’d likely have collapsed on their bedroom floor, “I’ll get you some new bandages in a moment. Let me rest a bit first.”

“…Anton?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Hong is still looking at me, their once dull eyes now shimmering slightly with life, “I hope I’m not a burden.”

I take off my glasses and massage my temples.

“Don’t worry about that, you’re not burdensome in the slightest. Your health is of utmost importance to me. If I didn’t want you to get better, I wouldn’t concern myself with these things.”

“Do you think I’ll get better soon?”

“I know you will.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” I nod firmly, putting my glasses back on, “Each day you’ll get better and better until all of this is just a faint memory.”

They stick out their right hand, extending their pinky.

“Swear it,” they command, face suddenly serious.

In any other situation I wouldn’t hesitate to roll my eyes at such a request. But now, I find it almost endearing. Their true personality seems to be coming back, little by little as they recover.

“I solemnly swear it,” I reply, wrapping my pinky around theirs, “Is that to your liking? Or shall we make a blood oath?”

Hong grins.

“Hmm,” they pretend to think it over for a moment, “That’s not necessary. But you’d better not be lying. Or else.”

“Or else what?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Hong yawns and stretches, “I trust you enough.”

“As you should. I’m a man of my word and have no reason to lie about such a thing,” I reply, my eyes wandering over to the plate of fruit that’s been sitting out for some time now, “If you’re not going to eat any more, I’ll put this plate away.”

“Hmm, yeah. I’m still not hungry.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some more gauze while I’m at it,” I get up, “I think for now, you should continue resting. That’s the best thing you can do.”

As I start to leave their room, they call my name quietly.

“Yes?” I turn around.

“The real reason I want to grow out my hair is because of you,” they mumble sheepishly, “You make long hair look cool.”

I mutter a quick ‘thank you’ and then take my leave, not quite sure how to react to such a statement. This Thursday afternoon is likely one I’ll think about for some time.