!!! WARNING !!!

Mention of self-harming behaviour and illness

⁜※⁜

"𝕮𝖆𝖓 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊? '𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖉."

⁜※⁜

The bright lights fazed in and out. Focused then unfocused. Focused then unfocused. I blinked. The warm lights tried to mirror the celestial goodness of the Sun—and failed.

Still, I reached for its warmth, however superficial it might have been, bandages that forever encased my hand glowing gold. A different warmth met mine—fingers that were gentle and a palm that was soft as it pushed against me. It rested there, providing me with comfort, before wrapping around my hand and lowering it to the bed.

"You ought to be more careful," said a calm voice.

"Sorry... Doctor," I croaked, my eyes hovering open just enough to take in the lights above.

A hand placed itself on my forehead, rubbing it lightly in encouragement. The touch coaxed my eyes shut. "You've done very well this session. I understand your ailment has hit you much harder than usual this time." The comforting hand stopped. "I will need to prescribe you stronger medicine."

".. Understood."

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I know this is hard for you."

A breath shuddered out of me. "Just make me better... Baizhu."

⁜※⁜

I didn't need apologies. I didn't need condolences. I didn't need anyone's pity. I just needed to be better.

My hands shook as I held a mug between them, gripping tightly so it wouldn't slip out and shatter on the floor. Qiqi hummed to herself beside me, slowly twining together a crown of grass and flowers.

"That looks nice," I said, making smalltalk.

"Yaoyao... taught me." The little zombie tied the ends together with her tiny, unaging hands, before standing on my bed to put it on my head. It sat lopsided, and I smiled. "Are you... better yet?"

"I will be," I said, though I didn't believe my words 100%.

"You come here... a lot. More than Yaoyao." Those innocent eyes gazed into me—into the depths of my being. I knew that despite being Baizhu's helper, what I had to suffer through was likely beyond her understanding.

So I patted her on the head with my bandaged hand. "I just like being with you, Qiqi."

She smiled a little at that, humming in response to the touch. "I like you... too." She paused. "Come back. Please."

"I will." I didn't have a choice.

The door to the clinic opened and we both looked up. "Qiqi, can you please look after the register while I examine my patient? Gui is out on errands right now."

"Okay... Doctor Baizhu." She slipped off the bed, before skipping out of the door without sparing me so much as a glance, as if she had forgotten me entirely. Perhaps she had.

The doctor watched her leave, before turning to me, seafoam-green hair shifting slightly. He quietly closed the door behind him. "How are you feeling?" he asked, walking over with barely audible steps.

"Recovering," I simply replied, though I knew even this would be short-lived.

Without a word, he knelt beside the bed and took the half-empty cup from my hands, examining the bandaged one. It shook with more volatility than my other hand did. Nothing Baizhu—nor any other who practised medicine—could stop it. He held it carefully as it trembled uncontrollably, before closing his fingers around it in comfort. "Is the medication acting up in any way?"

I shook my head. "Nothing so far."

"Good."

It was silent, then, as Baizhu stood and began to prepare a fresh cup of tea, as the one I had was going cold. It was supposed to help recover my voice—and it helped. But the effects were never permanent. I considered myself lucky he provided it free of charge.

"Doctor Baizhu..." I murmured. He turned and hummed in question. My tired gaze fell to the ground. I had always refrained from asking this question for fear of the answer I would receive. But... "Will I... ever get better?"

Baizhu placed the teaspoon he was holding onto a saucer and sat himself beside me, placing his hand atop my own. For a moment, I was afraid he was going to say what I had always been dreading—but he didn't. "You will get better," he promised instead. I looked up at that, both in surprise and hope. His gaze was sincere as he added, "I will find a cure."

I opened my mouth, though I was wordless. He'd find a cure. So he'd promised. Could that really be possible? I nodded slowly, taking in his words.

He gently placed his fingers beneath my chin, closing my mouth that remained open. "Save your astonishment for when I fulfill my promise," he instructed with a light smile. He reached over and grabbed the cup of fresh tea, handing it to me and closing my shaking fingers around it. His hands covered mine and he met my gaze, the most hopeful it had looked in what could have been years. "Look after yourself," he said, a plea and an order.

"Yes, Doctor," I said, refusing to tear my eyes away from his. They reminded me of the sun that I had grown to cherish—for despite its ever-present existence, I rarely saw it. Baizhu's eyes... they became the twin suns that replaced the real one burning high above. And perhaps I cherished them more—for these suns promised me a future, while the other would continue to rise and fall regardless of my fate.

The door opened. It was him that looked away, the twin suns that were the only things to light up my world disappearing from view, shrouding me in an all-too familiar darkness. "Qiqi?" he asked, standing. "Why are you back so soon?" I saw him smile—a father amused by his daughter. "Did you forget which herbs were where again?"

Qiqi nodded. "I'm sorry. I couldn't remember."

He walked briskly over and patted her on the head as he passed. "Let's switch places. I'll take care of it."

"Okay... Doctor Baizhu." The little zombie turned to me and smiled. "Y/n... you're here. Where did you... get that flower crown?"

⁜※⁜

I had made the journey from Bubu Pharmacy to my residency countless times—so much so that I could probably find my way home blind. I quickly pushed that thought away, lest I jinx myself. I had suffered enough.

The evening sun was weak but still enough to lift my spirits. I would likely be forced to stay inside for the next few weeks until my condition flared up again. As much as I wished I could recover completely, I was beginning to lose hope. I had grown accustomed to waiting for my illness to worsen just so I could go outside—and see Baizhu again. His twin suns were more miraculous and stunning than even the golden orb that sat low on the horizon.

I watched it for a few long moments, relishing its steady presence. A soft breeze skittered down the streets, running through my hair and carrying the scent of mint and qingxin.

It reminded me of him—that scent. It was calm. It was kind. It was healing. And he'd promised to heal me. Part of me scolded me for believing in such foolish hopes and empty promises—but I trusted Baizhu. He wouldn't lie to me just as he wouldn't lie to any of his other patients.

I smiled at the setting sun, imagining it was him looking down at me, watching over me. And the part of me that suffered the most, crying out in pain, quieted in the warmth of the golden rays that fell over the harbour.

"Aiya, who have we got here?" That voice caused me to turn away from the light, meeting the mischievous gaze of someone who worked in the place I was worried I would end up. Hu Tao skipped over to me and smiled. "You've returned, Y/n!"

"H—hello, Director Hu," I stammered. I didn't dislike her, though she often caused trouble for Qiqi and Baizhu—but she represented a future that I wanted to avoid. What if I was her next client? The thought filled me with dread.

"Why so nervous?" she asked, gently slinging her arm around my shoulder. "You should go home before the sun sets."

"I know," I said, nodding my agreement. "I just... thought I'd watch for a little while."

Hu Tao turned to the sun. "It is very nice, isn't it?" She paused, before adding, "Spirits don't often get to see this view. Small things like this... is why life is important." She looked at me and grinned. "At least, that's what Dr Baizhu would tell you, right?"

I smiled weakly, nodding. "I don't want to lose this."

Hu Tao hummed thoughtfully. "Is it that you don't want to lose this?.. Or is it that you don't want to lose him?"

I could feel my face heat—not because of the sun. "Him?" I echoed.

Hu Tao giggled and slinked away, heading back to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, which was unfortunately placed just down the road from my residence. "I think you know who."

I didn't. I watched her leave, before turning back to the sun—to the mirror image of those golden eyes I cherished. Cherished... and loved.

Baizhu, I realised, face reddening. Could Hu Tao have been referring to him? I covered my face in my hands, hiding my expression, though no one was watching. No one could ever know—no one could ever understand. Not even I understood. The Funeral Parlour Director saw my feelings before I did.

Now that they had been addressed... I quickly stumbled back into my abode, shutting the door behind me and leaning on it as the realisation set in. Baizhu... Why? I was grateful for his kindness... I adored the twins suns that adorned his delicate face.

But most importantly... I clung to him and the promise that he had made. My road to life... was him. And I loved him because of that.

"I guess that makes sense," I murmured to myself, the blush on my face prominent. I felt a sudden tingling in my right hand and lifted it, before stalking towards the washroom. "Time to change my bandages."

⁜※⁜

I stared at myself in the mirror, the tiny skylight high above the washbasin letting the evening sun filter in. The sun was never visible from here. The sun was barely visible from anywhere. My small apartment had very few windows—and they weren't facing the path of the celestial body.

"Baizhu..." I murmured, eyes closed as I gently cleansed my hand with clean water filled with minerals. It had been weeks since I'd seen him now. The medication he had given me was working, thank the Archons—but that also meant I didn't have the chance to see him. And I wondered if he thought of me. "Of course, he's thinking of you," I told myself. "He's finding you a cure."

I stared at my hand, unbandaged and trembling fiercely. It was a grotesque purple, skin flaking and veins throbbing a royal blue. I washed it gently beneath some cool, running water. I watched red mingle with the falling cascade, wincing as I brushed too hard on a particularly weak spot. It was like this every day...

Every day... My stomach tightened.

I wished Baizhu speed in his endeavours to find me a cure. I wasn't sure how much more I could take. Despite the medication lessening the effects, they didn't stop the spread—only slowed so as to give me more time.

It had started as a tiny spot on my finger—I'd thought it a stain from some food I'd eaten—but it grew and expanded, taking over my body. Recently, I had seen it on my shoulder. The purple ruined my skin and body, eating away at my muscles. The amount of bandages that now covered me... I couldn't bear it.

I sighed, dapping a damp cloth over my arm. It wasn't as dark a purple as my hand—but I could tell it was slowly getting worse. I inhaled shakily, before staring up at myself in the mirror. Tired—I was so so tired.

It was then I noticed it—the purple growing on the right-hand side of my neck. I brushed my good hand over it. The skin was still soft and smooth—but not for long. I couldn't help the tears that silently fell down my cheeks—my silent cry to the world around me. But I wiped my tears away. Not a single cry of mine could help me—not one plea I could make would heal me. Only Baizhu...

I paused at that thought. I had faith in him—and his promise. But as I stared at my rotting hand, I wondered if he could truly help me. I loved him for helping. I loved him for trying. So how could I burden him more by forcing him to create an impossible cure for an illness so rare very few people ever caught it? What did it matter if I perished now? We all ended up in the same place regardless.

I heard a frantic knocking at my door and quickly turned my head. Strange. No one ever knocked. No one knew me. But I hurried to the door regardless and opened it—just a crack. A small face met mine, wide magenta eyes finding my own. "Qiqi?" I questioned, opening the door wider. How did she know where I lived?

"Hu Tao," she breathed, panting. With that, she ran inside and I quickly shut the door. She ran to the table at the centre of the tiny sitting room, where she ducked beneath it.

"Qiqi, Director Hu won't find you here," I said comfortingly, coming closer. "I'm not even sure how you found me." I squatted so as to be eye-level with her. "It's okay," I said added, reaching out my good hand to coax her out.

Slowly, she crawled back out. "The flower crown," she said after a moment's silence. I angled my head in question. The little zombie pointed to the windowsill, where I had placed the flower crown she had given me. "I saw it. It looked familiar. I ran to the door. I found you."

I smiled a little. "You did." I paused, before asking, "Does Doctor Baizhu know you're here?"

Qiqi shook her little head, braid swinging. "He will find me."

"I know he will." I patted Qiqi on the head, her hair soft to the touch. She leaned into my touch and I chuckled. I then directed her to the armchair in the corner of the room and she clambered on with her tiny limbs, before making herself comfortable. She took off her saddlebag, placing it on her lap and looking through it with an amusingly serious expression. "What's in the bag?" I asked.

"Herbs," she replied simply. "And medicine. Doctor Baizhu... wanted them. So I got them."

"What are they for?"

Qiqi shook her head. "I can't remember."

At that I smiled and began walking back to the washroom. "I'm just going to wash," I called over my shoulder. "Raid the kitchen if you get hungry."

I heard her hum affirmatively, then continued to the room and shut the door behind me. I slipped the towel I wearing off, filling up the washbasin and pouring medicinal oils with conflicting aromas into the water. I gingerly stepped in, the water warm against my cold skin. I sat down, legs folding as my shoulders sank beneath the surface. I felt tingling sensations against my wounded skin as the medicines worked their magic, like friendly fish in a pond nibbling harmlessly. I sighed in content. It was what I regarded as the best part of my day.

Here, my tears could mingle with the water and disappear, swallowing my sadness whole. My only wish was that I could see the sun from the window—see Baizhu's eyes gracing me with their gaze. My face reddened slightly. Would that mean he could see me?

After what may have been anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour of soaking in the tub, my skin began to feel uncomfortably wrinkly. So I stood from out of the water, cascades falling off of me like a vast network of waterfalls on a mountain. I was about to step out when my head began pounding. If I'd known it was a warning for what was about to come over me, I would have mentally prepared myself and perhaps even grabbed the medications I had placed on a small shelf sticking out of the wall—but I was too late.

My vision sputtered like a Fontaine machine running out of energy. In shock, I tumbled out of the washbasin, grappling at the towel I had dropped on the ground to cover my trembling figure. My right eye—I couldn't see out of it. I'd never known blindness before. I wished to never know it again. It wasn't like the blackness of the night sky, calming like the sight I saw before sleep. It was... nothing. I reached up to my eye that had lost its sight—and felt flaky skin.

The disease had reached my face. I cried loudly in fear—at both the loss of sight and the spread of the purple army. It had gone so quickly. My vision was flickering—fading. I screamed again, bent over on the floor, my hands—no, my whole body trembling more violently than it ever had before.

I heard the quick pitter patter of someone's bare feet on the wooden floor and felt small hands cup my face, lifting it so that my one good eye, dying as it was, could meet hers. "Qiqi..." I whimpered. Her placid expression revealed no strong emotions as she reached into her small bag and brought out a small container of what looked like pea mush. She smeared it over my eyes, forcing them both shut. I had never been more terrified to not see someone in front of me—for what if I opened them and both of them no longer worked?

"Stay here," I heard her say, as if I had anywhere else to go. "I will remember. Promise."

She quickly ran away, and I heard the door open and close with a click. Alone in the cold darkness, I wrapped the towel around myself properly and crawled until I felt the wall. There I sat, tears spilling down my face in the solitary silence, until arms hooked beneath me and lifted me. For a moment, I was worried about myself and my vulnerability in only being dressed in a towel—before I realised the frailty of the arms that carried me.

"It smells like that herbal paste you wanted," said a high-pitched voice.

"I believe so."

"Smart girl—when it really counts, at least."

"Baizhu..." I murmured, sobs still clogging my throat.

He hushed me gently. "You'll be okay," he whispered into my ear, calming me as much as only he could. "I'll save you."

".. I'm so cold."

"I'll save you," he repeated—and I had faith in the confidence of his words. Faith in the strength within them.

Time was something I could no longer measure, trapped in something that wasn't even darkness. I saw only nothing—felt only nothing. The herbs Qiqi had smeared over my eyes had numbed the pain but it couldn't stop the inevitable. One day, the pages would stop turning. One day, the words would stop writing. One day, the pictures would stop forming. There would only be the end. That was true nothingness—and I was afraid of it.

At last, I felt a softness beneath me—a place I could recognise only by the feel of the mattress and the sounds of the wind chimes near the window. I was back in Bubu Pharmacy's treatment room. A hand gripped my own, the horrid purple not a deterence to Baizhu's ever-present kindness. His grip was firm despite his own weakness—and I felt strong. "Baizhu," I murmured.

"I'm here." With that, he wiped a damp cloth over my eyes, whatever mush Qiqi had smeared on them clearing. My eyes fluttered open despite myself and I bit my lip to keep from crying out loud. "I know," the doctor merely said, closing my eyes with a touch oh-so-gentle—for my vision had turned foggy. I could see the outlines of objects around me—but it felt as if I was lost in thick mist. Lost... with nowhere to go. "What Qiqi put on your eyes has only just been able to save your eyesight."

"Save?" I echoed sharply, though I didn't mean to come off as rude. "Baizhu, I—I can't see—"

"You can see," he replied. "Out of one eye."

"Barely."

"It can still be saved." He touched at the skin near my left eye. "Your ailment has not yet reached it. I just need stronger medication than what I thought." Piecing everything together, I realised the medicine that Qiqi had run errands to receive was exactly for this moment. Baizhu had foreseen this event. He'd known my eyes would fail before he could heal me. But it still wasn't