Chapter Text
9:45 PM
Nurse Kim sighed. “Goh, honey.”
Goh stiffened. Nurse Kim didn’t call people “honey” unless she was one thread away from snapping. He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly feeling dry as dust.
“For the last time,” she said, her voice low and carefully controlled, “yes, there’s a chance you could get rabies, but it doesn’t mean that you will. We already gave you the shot today to prevent it, remember?”
Goh’s hand hovered over his leg. He brushed the swollen skin lightly with trembling fingertips. It burned faintly, the skin warm and tight under the gauze.
He knew what she was saying was logical. He had spent the entire afternoon scrolling through article after article on Lycanroc bites, jungle viruses, saliva bacteria, rare infections, and worst case scenarios that ended with words like “paralysis,” “delirium,” and “fatal.” But knowing and believing were two different things.
“B-but it looks… swollen?” he whispered, as if saying it too loudly might make the swelling worse.
Nurse Kim tilted her head, lowering her clipboard just enough to look at him dead on. “Goh. It was bitten by a wild Pokémon. Of course it’s swollen. That’s what happens when teeth go into flesh.”
His breath hitched at the bluntness, staring at his leg. It did look worse than this afternoon… or maybe he was imagining things.
She stepped closer, her shoes squeaking softly against the floor. “Your vitals are stable. The wound is clean. You got your rabies shot, your antibiotics are running, and you’re not showing any neurological symptoms.” She leaned slightly over him, her voice a little softer now. “You’re safe tonight, understood?”
Goh nodded a little too quickly, biting his lip.
“But what if it… starts tomorrow?”
“Then we’ll deal with it tomorrow,” she answered without missing a beat. “But right now, it hasn’t started. And you staying up imagining symptoms isn’t going to help your immune system. The best thing you can do is rest and not poke at it.”
He jerked his hand back from his leg like she’d caught him doing something illegal.
She scribbled a few notes, then added, “And for the love of Arceus, stop reading about rabies on your Rotom Phone.”
His face heated instantly. “…You saw that?”
“Kid, you were muttering ‘incubation period’ in your sleep earlier.”
He wanted the bed to swallow him whole.
Nurse Kim turned toward the door, pausing just before stepping out. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll check your temperature again later.”
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Goh alone with the steady hallway lights and the faint beeping of the infusion pump. He lay still, hands pressed against the blanket over his chest, staring at the ceiling.
He whispered to himself, “It’s fine. It’s… fine.”
But the second he heard the creak of the old hospital pipes somewhere in the walls, he squeezed his eyes shut.
Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight.
9:55 PM
Goh pushed the emergency help button again for the third time that day.
He swore he’d tried to sleep. His eyes literally closed, the blanket was pulled up, Mareep were counted in his head, and the whole thing. But he just… couldn’t.
Maybe it was the sound of nurses walking up and down the corridor outside his door. The quiet of the night made every soft tap echo in his head like a countdown. The slit of light beneath the door showed their moving shadows made him feel being distracted.
Or maybe it was still the thought of rabies. Yeah. Must be it. The word had been circling in his mind like a mosquito, impossible to swat away. Rabies. Incubation period. Symptoms. Fever. Hydrophobia.
He sniffed.
The door opened with a soft click, and Nurse Kim stepped in. She didn’t look surprised, more like someone who had already predicted this moment ten minutes ago.
“What is it this time?” she asked, tone dry but not entirely unkind.
“I think I’m having a fever,” Goh blurted out. He sniffed again.
Her brow arched slightly, but she didn’t argue. She grabbed the thermometer from the little supply cart near the bed.
“Uh huh,” she said, pressing the power button. The thermometer beeped softly. “Let’s check, then.”
Goh sat up a little straighter. He was sure it was hotter now. He felt it, didn’t he? His face felt flushed, his leg throbbed, and he could swear there was a little ache in his head. She slipped the thermometer under his tongue, then folded her arms, staring at him.
Goh tried to avoid her gaze. He mumbled through the thermometer, “W-well, ‘s awkw’rd…”
Nurse Kim raised a brow. “Mhm.”
Beep.
Nurse Kim pulled it out, glanced at the screen… and sighed.
“Goh.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Thirty six point six.” She turned the display toward him just so he couldn’t argue. “Tragic.”
Goh frowned. “…Maybe it’s going up?”
She gave him a long look. “No. It’s not going up. You’re just… overthinking everything.”
Goh bit his lip and slouched back a little against the pillow, embarrassed.
She put the thermometer away, then reached out to adjust the blanket over his chest with a surprisingly gentle tug. “You’re scared. I get it. But you don’t have a fever, and your wound looks the same. You’re okay right now. You’re just… awake.”
He stared at the ceiling, muttering softly, “Can’t sleep.”
“I know,” she didn’t scold him this time. She just smoothed the blanket one last time, then walked toward the door. “Try again. And no Rotom Phone.”
Goh flushed. “…I wasn’t—”
“Uh huh.” The door closed with a soft click.
He sighed into the quiet room, hugging the blanket closer. Still awake. Still overthinking.
9:59 PM
He sighed softly. She was right. Of course she was right. He was overthinking things. He didn’t have a fever. His leg… well, actually, it didn’t even hurt that much now, just an occasional throb beneath the gauze, nothing compared to the panic swirling in his head.
The only thing really bothering him at this point was how cold the room felt. It was not just cold in temperature, but in feeling too. And maybe, just maybe, it felt colder because his parents had left after visiting hours ended. He hadn’t expected them to stay overnight, of course. But when the door had closed behind them, it left a hollow silence that settled heavy in his chest.
He sniffed and wiped his nose quickly with the back of his hand. Just sleep, he told himself.
He closed his eyes, pulling the blanket up a little higher. He counted slow breaths, tried to match them to the faint rhythm of the machine beeping beside him.
And then—
Bong… Bong… Bong…
The church across the street was ringing ten o’clock. His eyes snapped open, every muscle tightening as the next toll rolled through the night like a slow heartbeat.
Bong… Bong… Bong…
Goh didn’t even think. His hand shot out and slammed the emergency call button again, the red light above it flaring to life.
A few seconds later, the door opened and Nurse Kim stepped in, not even pretending to be patient this time. “Yes, Goh?”
“I—I think I caught a flu from Chloe,” he blurted out. “Seriously, my nose is running a lot. C-could you please check it?”
Nurse Kim blinked once. “From Chloe.”
He nodded frantically. “Yeah—yeah, she was sniffing a lot while we were in the forest. Maybe it’s, like, late incubation or something. And now my nose—” He sniffed to prove his point. “See? It’s bad.”
She exhaled through her nose, setting her hands on her hips for a second before walking toward the bedside. “Goh. It’s October. Your room is cold. And your nose is runny because it’s cold. That doesn’t mean you’re dying of the flu.”
“I didn’t say dying,” he muttered, cheeks heating up, “I just… maybe it’s the start of something.”
She picked a tissue from the box on the table and handed it to him. “Here. Blow. Properly this time.”
He did loudly.
“See? Clear,” she said, glancing at the tissue, then at him. “No fever. No cough. No infection. Just nerves. And maybe a slightly overactive imagination.”
“…it’s really cold, though,” he whispered.
That at least made her expression soften. She adjusted the thin blanket over him, then went to the radiator and turned the dial up a notch. The faint hum of heat starting to kick in filled the silence.
“Better?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
Goh nodded slowly. “…Yeah.”
“Good. Because if I have to come in here again before ten thirty,” she said, arching a brow, “I’m bringing the real thermometer. The one that goes in your—”
“OKAY I’LL SLEEP,” he blurted out before she could finish.
Nurse Kim smirked faintly and headed for the door. As the door clicked shut behind her again, the last echo of the bell faded into the night. Goh sank into the pillow, clutching the warm blanket tighter, heart still beating a little too fast.
He knew it was just the church bell, but in this cold, quiet room, it sounded like something much bigger.
10:15 PM
The light from his Rotom Phone was far too bright for the dark room. Goh squinted, thumb and forefinger nervously pinching the screen as he zoomed the map closer and closer to the blinking dot of his current location.
He swallowed hard.
Oh god.
He really was right next to the church.
He stared at the little gray rectangle marked as hospital and the one directly beside it was a church. If there was a church, then of course there might be a graveyard too. That was how it always worked in those creepy documentaries. People got sick, they died, ceremony held at the church, and then… went straight down into the ground, right next to where he was lying at this very moment.
Awesome.
Just awesome.
His heart gave an anxious little kick. He glanced at the curtain. It was so thin, way too thin. If there was ever something or someone moving outside, that flimsy fabric wouldn’t block a thing. He hugged the blanket closer to his chest.
Goh had never in his life wished this hard that his parents would stay. Even though their presence was usually the kind of awkward where they didn’t quite know how to talk to him and he didn’t quite know how to let them, but right now he’d take that awkward silence over this cold emptiness.
If he asked… maybe they would’ve stayed. They probably wanted to. He remembered his mom hesitating at the door, his dad asking if he was sure he’d be okay. And he had said yes, because of course he always did. But maybe if he’d said no, they would’ve stayed, and Nurse Kim would’ve had to let them.
Maybe.
Goh turned the brightness of his phone down and stared at the little dot on the map. The church sat heavily beside him like a silent neighbor. He really, really wished someone was here.
He sniffed again, pulling the blanket up a little nearer to his face. His nose was still runny, but he was too scared to reach out for a tissue. He knew that Nurse Kim had left the box on his nightstand, and the nightstand was so close, but still…
Then a heavy gust of wind slammed against the window. The glass rattled. The metal frame gave a low, unsettling creak. Goh flinched so hard the Rotom Phone slipped out of his hands and landed face down on the mattress with a dull thud. His heart leapt into his throat.
He stared at the dark window, the curtain stayed still contrasting with the wind howling outside. His hand hovered over the emergency help button. He’d already pressed it so many times tonight. Nurse Kim was probably so done with him by now. If he pressed it again, she’d know exactly what kind of coward he was.
Should he?
His finger wavered just above the red button.
Or should he not…?
Then another stronger wind hit against the glass. And that decided it.
He slammed his palm down on the button so fast. Only a few seconds later, the door opened, and Nurse Kim stepped in. Her eyes swept over him, the fallen phone, the blanket pulled up to his nose, and then the window.
“What now?” she asked, her tone caught somewhere between concerned and oh for heaven’s sake.
Goh’s throat was dry and sticky. His fingers twisted the edge of the blanket as Nurse Kim stepped fully into the room.
“…H-how are you?” he blurted out.
The words sounded so awkward that even he winced a little. It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, well, to be honest, he wasn’t even sure what he had meant to say.
Nurse Kim blinked at him, caught off guard for a split second. Her brows lifted slightly, and for once she didn’t immediately sigh or roll her eyes.
“Me?” she said, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Goh nodded stiffly. “Y-yeah. You. Um… how are you?”
She stared at him for another second before a tiny, incredulous laugh escaped her. “I’m fine, Goh,” she said finally. “Tired, but fine.”
He nodded quickly, almost too quickly. “…Cool.”
There was a brief silence between them, leaving just the noise of the radiator, the faint buzz of the overhead light, and his own heartbeat pounding embarrassingly loud in his ears.
She raised a brow. “You pressed the emergency button to ask me how I’m doing?”
Goh’s face heated up instantly. “N-no! I mean—I did, but not just that! There was… uh…”
Another gust of wind slammed against the window. He jumped a little in his bed. “T-that!” he stammered, pointing at the rattling glass. “That’s why.”
Nurse Kim followed his gaze to the window. Her shoulders relaxed. “It’s just the wind, Goh. The weather forecast said a cold front was coming in tonight.”
“Y-yeah, but it’s loud,” he muttered, shrinking into the blanket.
She took a step closer to the window, checked the latch, then tugged it gently. “It’s locked tight. Nothing’s getting in.”
Goh nodded, not entirely convinced but clinging to her certainty anyway.
Then she turned back to him and shook her head lightly. “You’re something else, kid. You know that?”
He managed a small, sheepish smile. “…I just don’t like wind. Or… curtains. Or graveyards. Or—never mind.”
She smirked faintly. “I figured.”
“D-do you… have something to help me sleep?” he mumbled, staring at the blanket instead of at her. His fingers fidgeted with the seam. Then, even quieter, he added, “…or you could just… knock me to sleep.”
The second the words left his mouth, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. His face went bright red, and his toes curled under the blanket.
Nurse Kim blinked slowly. Then she tilted her head, that signature deadpan look settling right back onto her face. “…Knock you to sleep?” she repeated flatly.
Goh let out a pathetic little noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a groan. “I didn’t mean like-like actually knock me—”
“Oh, I know exactly what you said,” she cut in, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was fighting very hard not to laugh. “I just wanted to make sure I heard it correctly.”
“I was joking!” he blurted out too fast. “Kinda. Maybe.”
“Mhm.” She arched an eyebrow. “Well, sorry to disappoint, but hospital policy doesn’t really approve of knocking patients unconscious.”
He let out a tiny, nervous laugh, cheeks burning even hotter. “Yeah, I know that.”
Nurse Kim sighed, but it wasn’t an annoyed sigh, this time instead it was softer, the kind she gave when he reminded her too much of the anxious kid she’d patched up at the summer camp. “I can’t give you anything strong,” she said, stepping closer and pulling the blanket up more securely around his shoulders, “but I can get you something mild like a warm drink. Maybe something to help you relax. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll just glare at you until you pass out.”
Goh snorted, muffling against the blanket. “…you’d probably win.”
“I always do,” she said dryly, turning toward the door. “Stay put, kid. I’ll get you something.”
When the door closed behind her, Goh groaned softly into his hands and buried his face against his palms. “Ughh…. That was so embarrassing!”
10:35 PM
It had been twenty minutes. Goh checked his phone again just to be sure.
Did she forget? Or… did she just decide he wasn’t serious enough and left him like this on purpose? Maybe she’d gone to check on other patients and lost track of time or maybe she’d rolled her eyes the second she stepped out and thought, “He’s fine. Just dramatic as usual.”
Goh bit his lip and stared at the door. He wasn’t fine. His chest felt tight and his mind was restless. He rubbed his hands together under the blanket, trying to warm them, but it didn’t help much. The room was still too cold, the kind of chill that somehow crept through even with the radiator on.
Maybe Nurse Kim really had gone to make that drink. She had said “warm drink.” What kind, though? Hot tea? Cocoa? Maybe even warm milk? Well, it didn’t matter, whatever it was, it sounded good. His throat ached for something warm, something that might chase away this strange emptiness that had been slowly spreading since his parents left. He needed that drink. He needed a sleeping pill. He needed something mild, no, something strong. He needed…
Goh swallowed.
Maybe he just needed someone to be here.
Someone sitting in the chair next to his bed, just being there. Someone whose voice would fill the silence, or whose shadow would make the corners of the room less dark.
He stared at the door again. The faint strip of yellow light beneath it was steady, unmoving. No footsteps passed by this time. No shadows. Just him, the hum of machines and the sound of the wind brushing against the window.
Last night had been a different story. He’d been so completely exhausted that he had fallen asleep before he even knew it. He vaguely remembered his parents being there. They had talked for a bit about the forest, about how he got lost, about the Deerling migration that had started all of this. Camille had asked if he’d eaten enough that day, and Walker had tried to make a joke about… to be honest, Goh couldn’t even remember that part. Then Ash and Chloe had stopped by, too. He thought he hadn’t talked much with them. Maybe he’d mumbled something. Maybe they had just sat there, quiet and awkward, their voices hushed as if afraid to wake him even though he’d already been half asleep. After that, everything blurred together with the mix of exhaustion and medication. When the morning light had crept in through the curtain, his parents had already been there again.
Goh hadn’t even heard the church bells last night. But now that his head was clearer, reality came creeping back with a cold, sharp edge. He was alone and he was going to have to spend the night that way by himself in one of the places that had seen more people die than anywhere else in the city.
The wind against the window still made that weird noise. Goh squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tell himself it was just the weather, just the wind, just physics. But the longer it went on, the harder it was to believe that. His hand crept toward the emergency button almost on instinct. He hesitated, hovering over it. The button jad been pressed too many times tonight. He could almost hear Nurse Kim’s voice in his head, flat and unimpressed: “Goh, again?”
Still, when another gust rattled the window, he flinched and muttered under his breath, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” and pressed the button.
He pulled the blanket up to his chin, heart pounding, waiting for the door to open.
It took longer this time, and by the moment it did, he was starting to regret it.
Nurse Kim finally stepped in, holding a steaming mug in both hands. Her hair was slightly messy, and she looked more tired than she had earlier. “Sorry,” she said with a small sigh. “We’re short on people tonight. I almost forgot about your drink.”
Goh’s shoulders dropped in relief. He tried to smile, but his embarrassment burned hotter than the air in the mug. “T-thank you,” he mumbled.
She handed it to him carefully. The warmth spread instantly through his fingers.
“But,” she added, straightening up and fixing him with a look that was slightly amused, “you know, the best way to fall asleep is to actually sleep, not to keep pressing the emergency button.”
Goh flushed crimson. “I—I know. I just… the wind—”
“The wind,” she echoed with a small smile, shaking her head.
He ducked his head, too mortified to reply. Slowly, he sat up, wincing as a sharp sting pulsed through his injured leg. Nurse Kim noticed the movement but said nothing. Goh wrapped both hands around the mug, careful not to spill it.
The drink smelled faintly sweet like milk and honey. He stared into the steam, murmured another soft, “Thanks,” and took a careful sip.
It was warm enough to make the ghosts in his imagination feel just a little farther away.
“Well,” she said after a moment, dusting off her hands, “if there’s nothing else, then I’ll—”
“Wait!” Goh blurted out.
She stopped and glanced back.
He sniffed, eyes darting down to the mug. “I-I… think I have a headache.” His voice was small, uncertain, like even he didn’t believe it. “I guess.”
Nurse Kim arched an eyebrow. She didn’t say anything right away, instead, she stepped closer slowly until she was standing right beside the bed. The soft smell of antiseptic and coffee clung faintly to her uniform. Then she leaned in, just enough that their faces were only a few inches apart. Her sharp, steady eyes studied him closely. Goh instinctively leaned back, clutching the mug tighter. His pulse jumped in his throat. For a moment, she didn’t blink. Then, quietly, she said, “Tell me, Goh. Tell me the truth. Are you really feeling sick…” Her gaze softened, though her eyes stayed searching. “…or are you just afraid of something?”
The question hung in the air like a whisper that had been waiting all night to be asked. It felt like he’d been caught doing something terribly wrong, like a much younger version of himself sneaking lollipop jar at the top shelf in the kitchen before dinner and getting caught mid lick. Except this wasn’t something small, this was his fear, laid bare in the middle of the heavy wind outside the window.
Goh didn’t want to tell her the truth. Because if he did, what could she even do about it? She couldn’t stay with him all night. She had patients, rounds, things that actually mattered. So why would he embarrass himself by admitting he was scared?
“I-I…” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m really feeling sick.”
Her brow lifted, unimpressed.
“A-and thanks to your tea,” he rushed on, clutching the mug tighter, “it makes me feel… kinda better now.”
The lie tasted awkward, but he forced a weak smile.
Nurse Kim regarded him for a moment, clearly not convinced. Then one corner of her mouth twitched upward in a wry smile.
“Oh, really?” she said. “Well, that’s great. Because I was just thinking maybe you were scared to be alone.” Her tone was light, teasing until she added, perfectly straight faced, “You know, like a five-year-old kid.”
Goh’s face went crimson instantly. His mouth opened, but the words tangled somewhere between indignation and embarrassment. “I—I can stay alone!” he protested, sitting up straighter in a way that only made him look more flustered. “J-just… a strange place keeps me awake, that’s all!”
“Mm-hmm.” She didn’t argue, but the knowing look she gave him said everything. Goh sank a little lower in bed, scowling faintly into his mug. The tea really was helping, but not with the humiliation.
10:50 PM
Okay, never mind. The tea didn’t help at all.
Goh had gulped down half the mug, hoping it would at least make him sleepy, but if anything, he felt more awake. His stomach was warm, sure, but now there was also this growing, undeniable urge to use the toilet.
He groaned softly, setting the mug aside on the bedside table. Of course, out of all the possible side effects, this had to happen. He stared at the dark corner of the room where the bathroom door was. It wasn’t far, just a few steps away, but right now it might as well have been a hundred meters. The shadows between him and that door looked thicker than before.
Nope.
Just thinking about stepping out of bed made his chest hurt. He knew it was a silly idea and completely irrational, but that didn’t stop the thought from crawling through his head like static.
What if something grabbed him? Swhat if there was something under the bed, or behind the curtain, or from the dark corner near the IV pole. What if the second his feet touched the cold floor, a cold, bony, not human hand just snatched his ankle? He squeezed his eyes shut and forced a shaky laugh, trying to brush it off.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re not five. There’s nothing there.”
But even as he said it, he made sure both his feet stayed firmly under the blanket. And his hands were kept close, too, not reaching beyond the bed rails. Not risking it… Just in case.
The clock ticked too clearly on the wall. Each tick… tick… tick seemed to echo louder than before, and with every one, the pressure in his bladder grew worse. It was ridiculous how a sound that small could make something feel so urgent.
He shifted uncomfortably under the blanket, pressing his knees together. Maybe… maybe if he just turned on the light, it wouldn’t be so bad. The dark was always worse because of what he imagined was there, right?
But the light switch was on the other side of the room. He stared at it for a full ten seconds, then gulped. His uninjured leg started to shake under the covers, a pathetic attempt to distract himself, to somehow convince his body to wait just a little longer.
“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “You can do this. Just… light first.”
With one trembling hand, he reached for his Rotom Phone on the nightstand. His fingers fumbled with it for a moment before he found the flashlight icon and tapped it on. A sharp white beam shot across the room. And immediately, he regretted it.
The light hit the curtain and made it sway, throwing distorted, shifting tall shadows against the wall. For half a second, it looked like something was standing there and watching. Goh’s heart jumped into his throat, and he slammed his thumb against the screen again. The flashlight went out instantly, plunging him back into darkness.
He sat frozen, breathing fast, his hand still clutching the phone like a weapon. His eyes darted to the window, the corners, and the door. Nothing really moved, but now the silence felt heavier, as if it were waiting.
Maybe it would be better to… well… call for help.
His gaze slid toward the emergency button again. He bit his lip, debating with himself, whispering under his breath, “You can’t just call her for this. You’ll die of shame.”
Another tick from the clock. Another pulse in his bladder. And that was it, his shame didn’t stand a chance. He reached out, hesitated for only a heartbeat, then pressed the button.
Goh immediately pulled his hand back and hid it under the blanket, as if he hadn’t just done what he had done. His heart was pounding so loudly that for a moment he thought maybe that alone would bring Nurse Kim running.
The seconds stretched.
He waited, but there was no footsteps.
Maybe she hadn’t seen the signal yet. Maybe she was busy with another patient. Maybe she’d decided to ignore him this time, and honestly, who could blame her?
He was about to press the button again when the door finally opened with a soft whirr of air from the hallway. Nurse Kim stepped in, her expression somewhere between suspicion and fatigue. “You again.”
Goh froze mid sentence before he’d even said one. “I, um…”
She crossed her arms, leaning slightly against the doorframe. “All right. What’s wrong this time? Don’t tell me the tea bit you.”
He flushed, his voice cracking. “N-no, nothing like that! It’s just… uh…” He hesitated, eyes darting toward the bathroom, then down at the blanket. “I need to… um…”
Her face didn’t move, but her eyebrow arched high enough to say everything.
Goh’s voice shrank to a whisper. “The bathroom.”
There was three long seconds of silence that felt like pure humiliation.
“Seriously?” she said finally. “You could’ve just said that the first time instead of calling an emergency.”
“I—I didn’t mean— I just—” he stammered, his face burning red.
She sighed, shaking her head but stepping further inside anyway. “Yes, yes, I know. All right, come on. Let’s get you there before your bladder stages a real emergency.”
Goh nodded quickly. “O-okay.”
She moved to his side and lowered the bedrail with a click. “Take it slow. And no fainting, understood?”
“I won’t faint,” he muttered, but the second his bare foot touched the cold floor, a shiver ran up his spine. His imagination jumped right back to life. “Could you maybe, uh… stand near the door?”
“I am near the door,” Nurse Kim replied, deadpan. “And for the record, ghosts don’t care about doors.”
Goh let out a weak sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m not supposed to help with that,” she said, smirking faintly. “I’m supposed to help keeping you from falling over.”
He took another careful step, and she watched him closely, her posture subtly ready to catch him if he stumbled. When he finally reached the door, he looked back at her nervously. “You’ll still be there, right?”
“I’ll be right here,” she said with a small nod. “Not moving an inch.”
As the door was closed and locked, he sat down and immediately covered his face with both hands. This was beyond mortifying. There was a nurse, a woman, standing on the other side of that thin door, waiting for him to finish his business, waiting because he couldn’t even bring himself to cross the room alone. All because of fears he couldn’t admit.
He exhaled slowly through his fingers. The cold tile under his feet did nothing to help the heat burning in his cheeks. This was, without question, the lowest point of his night, maybe his whole week. Yeah, it had to be the whole week, and that said a lot, considering he had just cried on the ground in the forest with a Deerling licking his face.
After a long, miserable pause, he muttered, “Nurse Kim…”
“Yes, Goh?”
He sighed again, dragging his hands down his face until they rested limply on his knees. “Please don’t tell Chloe.”
For a second, there was silence. Then, through the door, he could almost hear her smile.
“I don’t think Chloe needs to know that the great Goh needed a night escort to the bathroom,” she said dryly.
His heart sank. “Nurse Kim—”
“But,” she interrupted, her tone softening, “I also don’t think she’d laugh if she did. She’d probably just bring you a nightlight next time.”
Goh groaned, half wanting to melt into the floor. “That’s even worse.”
He could hear the faint chuckle she tried to hide. “Relax, kid. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Goh couldn’t help but laugh quietly, embarrassed but a little lighter than before. Then he heard the door to his room opening, followed by sounds of someone yelling and many footsteps. Nurse Kim said something to someone that he couldn’t clearly understand before another burst of hurried voice came. “Oh great, you’re here! We need help—Room 413, code blue!”
Goh froze on the spot. Through the bathroom door, he still couldn’t make out what Nurse Kim said in reply. He reached over and turned off the running water. He strained to listen, but it sounded chaos out there. Then came a knock on the bathroom door.
“Goh, you good?” Nurse Kim’s voice came through. “I’ll be back, yeah?”
His eyes widened, but before he could even answer, before he could ask what was happening, the door to his room snapped shut.
He stood there for a second. The noises that followed were just muffled voices from beyond the walls. It sounded like something too serious than just his sleeplessness was happening out there. Slowly, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the room, dragging the IV pole beside him.
Room 413. That was right next door. He turned toward the wall that separated his room from it, staring like he could somehow see through it.
“Code blue…” he whispered under his breath and grabbed his Rotom Phone before unlocking it, his fingers trembling slightly as he typed the words into the search bar. The screen glowed pale blue in the darkness.
Code blue: a medical emergency indicating cardiac or respiratory arrest.
He blinked once, and then again. They didn’t need to explain any further. His stomach dropped. Someone right next to him… wasn’t breathing.
His imagination spun faster than he could stop it. The map of the hospital, the church beside it, the graveyard beyond that, and the heavy wind outside blurred together into one long, dark stretch of place where people died, were mourned, and were buried.
And then the light flickered. Goh’s head jerked upward.
It flicked once.
And again.
Then it went out completely. The sudden darkness swallowed the room whole. He yelped and scrambled backward, his elbow bumping the IV pole. It teetered dangerously, the metal stand clanging as it almost fell. He caught it just in time though the pole jerked hard enough to tug at the line in his arm. His injured leg screamed with pain from the sudden movement as he dragged himself back onto the bed, panting, his heart hammering so loudly it drowned out every other sound. His hands were shaking so badly the blanket rustled beneath them.
He whispered to himself, voice trembling, “It’s just a power cut… just a power cut…”
But then a terrifying thought slipped into his mind. It was a hospital. Hospitals didn’t supposed to lose power, right? There were supposed to be generators, backups, systems that kept everything glowing no matter what… right?
His eyes darted toward the bottom of the door. There was still perfectly normal light spilling from the corridor. The hallway was fine. The rest of the hospital was fine. But his room… wasn’t.
Another rush of wind slammed against the window. The glass rattled hard, making him flinch so violently that his knee hit the side rail. Then the thin light from outside cast a glow on the curtain as it swayed slowly as though something had pushed it from behind.
His eyes locked still on the curtain. The window was closed. He knew it was closed. Nurse Kim had checked it herself earlier.
He backed up until his spine hit the headboard, the IV pole rattling beside him. His pulse thudded so loud he could barely think. One hand clutched his Rotom Phone tightly. The other slammed against the emergency call button again and again and again.
The light above it blinked uselessly, but no footsteps came.
No Nurse Kim.
No voices.
No sound from the hall.
He glanced at the Rotom Phone screen. The light glowed against his shaking hand.
11:00 PM.
And right on time, from outside, the first low toll of the church bell rolled through the night.
Bong… Bong… Bong…
Goh swallowed hard, his voice breaking as he whispered, “why is it always me?”