Grandmother signed her own consent form.
The structural-heart specialist explained every risk before allowing her to touch the pen.
Bleeding.
Stroke.
Kidney injury.
Abnormal heart rhythm.
Emergency surgery.
Death.
He also explained what could happen without intervention.
Another collapse.
Worsening heart failure.
Less time between one emergency and the next.
Grandmother listened without interrupting.
I interrupted four times.
"What is the success rate?"
"Her individual risk cannot be reduced to one number."
"How many patients her age survive?"
"Age is only one part of the assessment."
"What happens if the catheter procedure fails?"
Grandmother tapped the form with one finger.
"He already said emergency surgery."
"I am asking him."
"And I am the patient."
The specialist waited for us to remember that.
Grandmother looked at him.
"If I do nothing, do I become stronger?"
"No."
"If I wait a month, does the valve become kinder?"
"No."
"Then give me the pen."
She signed before I found another question.
The procedure was scheduled for the following morning.
Kitty found me outside the consultation room.
She carried two cups of tea from the hospital cafeteria. One had no sugar. The other contained enough sugar to qualify as dessert.
She gave me the second.
"I do not drink it like this."
"Your grandmother told me you do when frightened."
"My grandmother is giving out confidential information."
"She also told the nurse I am family."
I looked through the glass toward Grandmother's room.
"She decided too quickly."
"She has been deciding for three months. You only heard the decision today."
"That does not make it safe."
"No. It makes it hers."
Kitty sat beside me.
The answer sounded like something June would have said before every conversation became a competition.
"You agree with her?"
"I agree that being scared does not transfer ownership of her choice to you."
"Everyone has decided I think I own people's choices."
"You keep trying to make the evidence easy."
I drank the tea.
It was terrible.
It helped.
HS left Yandong General at 11:20.
The discharge plan required follow-up with the public-health program's counseling service within forty-eight hours, a primary-care review, structured sleep support, regular meals, and someone remaining with him through the first nights.
TZ signed that he understood the plan.
HS signed that he agreed to it.
NS stood beside the wheelchair even though HS had repeatedly said he could walk.
"The hospital requires it," NS said.
"You sound disappointed that you cannot buy an exception."
"June said the same thing yesterday."
"Then you should consider the possibility that two people noticed something."
NS pushed the chair toward the exit.
"You are recovering quickly."
"Insults require less energy than stairs."
Mr. Kim met them beside TZ's car.
He carried a printed response from Acting Director K.
The request to include HS among the Headmaster N legacy guests had been denied.
FORMER STUDENTS WHO WITHDREW BEFORE COMPLETING THE MILITARY-PATHWAY TRANSITION ARE NOT ELIGIBLE TO REPRESENT CURRENT PROGRAM OUTCOMES.
HS read the sentence twice.
"Program outcomes."
"I appealed it," Mr. Kim said.
"Do not."
"You said you wanted to attend."
"I want to attend the memorial. I do not want Sleeping Man approving whether I am allowed to remember someone."
NS took the paper.
"We can bring you as our guest."
"Then he removes one of you for violating the list."
"Let him try."
HS looked at him.
"You still think every door becomes brave when you threaten it."
"And you still think refusing help keeps it honest."
TZ opened the passenger door.
"Both of you can continue becoming emotionally intelligent after HS eats something."
HS entered the car.
Before TZ closed the door, he looked at NS.
"If I go to NeverMore, I walk through the front entrance. No security escort. No family call."
"Fine."
"And you stand beside me when Sleeping Man asks why I am there."
"I already promised."
HS nodded.
The promise had survived one night.
That was not enough to call it repaired.
It was enough to count.
Campus water pressure failed before noon.
Portable tanks appeared beside both science buildings. Students received two bottles each after showing identification. The cafeteria removed soup, tea, and every meal requiring boiled water from the menu.
The university announcement called it scheduled conservation.
Nobody had scheduled it.
At the southern gate, Water Workers Coalition members joined fishermen carrying nets stained with a pale gray residue. Traffic workers blocked one lane in support. Subway operators had not joined the strike, but their union announced an emergency vote for the following week.
Each disruption arrived as background noise.
Then the background began determining who reached class, which laboratory opened, and whether a hospital ambulance could cross the city.
Sleeping Man's festival office continued selling gold-tier tickets.
The placement document leaked at 12:43.
Jihye received it from an administrative assistant who asked not to be named.
The page was marked PROVISIONAL PARTNER CAPACITY.
Confirmed clinical placements were eight seats below the number of currently eligible Year 2 Med Track students.
Another five seats depended on festival sponsorship commitments.
Three remained under negotiation.
No paragraph explained what happened to students left without one.
The cohort gathered around Jihye's tablet inside the old pathology room.
"Eight guaranteed losses," JP said.
"Not guaranteed," NS replied. "Five can be restored through commitments."
"You heard the same sentence and found optimism inside a donor table."
"I found arithmetic."
Anna enlarged the footer.
"Performance ranking, conduct standing, attendance, and sponsor-program eligibility may all be considered."
Everyone looked toward my splint.
My conduct probation had become an academic risk without anyone announcing a new punishment.
"They cannot remove him twice for the same incident," Kitty said.
"They do not have to remove him," Jihye replied. "They can rank him below the available capacity."
Bunny looked at the number beside her own pathway code.
"My family cannot pay for another transfer."
Cherry closed the scholarship page she had been comparing.
"Mine will not recognize a year without placement. They will call it non-progression and stop funding the next term."
TZ read the document without speaking.
"Say it," JP told him.
"HS already disappeared from the list once. Now they are building a system that can make eight more disappear and call it capacity."
Anna pushed her chair backward.
"This is bullshit."
Nobody corrected the language.
The document had used cleaner words to say something worse.
JP looked at the ranking column.
"XH and I tied for fourth in the midterms. We thought fourth meant safe."
"There is no safe rank if the number of seats changes after the exam," NC said.
The pressure moved around the table, finding a different fear in every person.
Some feared debt.
Some feared going home.
Some feared becoming the next empty chair everyone learned to stop mentioning.
June stood beside NS.
"Then the festival matters whether we like it or not."
"That is why they waited to release the numbers," NC said. "Make us frightened, then offer tickets as treatment."
"Refusing to participate will not create placements," NS replied.
I looked at the sponsor column.
"Neither will selling the Headmaster's death."
"If one night at NeverMore keeps five students in the pathway, call it whatever helps you sleep."
"You mean call your family."
NS's expression changed.
"I declined the table."
"Your name is still on the board."
"Because Sleeping Man wants other donors to believe my family is coming."
"And if they call?"
"Then I decide what costs less, accepting their money or watching five people disappear."
"You always think becoming the powerful man is the same as defeating him."
"And you think refusing power makes the consequences morally pure."
The room became quiet.
NS looked at my conduct notice.
"Your pride is already costing you one possible seat. Do not ask the rest of us to pay for it."
My left hand closed.
Kitty noticed.
June noticed her noticing.
JP stepped between the table and both of us.
"Nobody fights in Pathology. The room has enough damaged tissue."
The joke failed.
He remained between us anyway.
Festival preparation divided the legacy guests into two teams.
Kitty and June were assigned to mentor Elena and Shally through the Queen-candidate interview segment.
NS and I were assigned to help TO and the King candidates prepare for the sponsor forum.
Sleeping Man had found an efficient way to place every unstable relationship beneath a camera.
The first Queen rehearsal began with a simple prompt.
WHAT DOES LEADERSHIP MEAN WHEN YOUR FUTURE IS UNCERTAIN?
Elena answered first.
"Leadership is giving accurate information before asking people to trust you."
Shally looked toward the empty water dispenser.
"Leadership is admitting when the plan changed and helping people change with it."
The moderator smiled.
"Excellent. Senior mentors, any guidance?"
"Do not let them soften those answers," Kitty said.
June looked at her.
"Presentation still matters."
"Truth matters more."
"Truth nobody listens to becomes private satisfaction."
"And a beautiful lie becomes sponsorship copy."
Elena lowered her pen.
Shally looked between them.
The moderator pretended to adjust the recording equipment.
June folded her arms.
"Not everyone can stand quietly and have people treat silence like depth. Some of us have to fight to be heard."
The old Queen Selection sentence returned with different clothing.
Kitty smiled faintly.
"You were heard. You always make sure of that."
"Is that criticism?"
"It depends on what you do after people listen."
"Say what you mean."
"Not in front of them."
June glanced at Elena and Shally.
"You already started in front of them."
Bunny entered from the corridor and stood beside June.
NC appeared behind Kitty.
The two sides formed before either mentor raised her voice.
Elena closed the candidate guide.
"Should we leave?"
"No," Kitty and June answered together.
That was the last thing they agreed on.
The King rehearsal went worse.
TO asked whether candidates should prioritize personal principles or the survival of the institution.
"Principles," I said.
"Survival," NS answered at the same time.
TO looked toward JP.
"Is every answer like this?"
"Only the important ones."
NS explained that an institution unable to fund laboratories or placements could not protect anyone's principles.
I argued that survival without boundaries only taught Sleeping Man which threats worked.
"You can resist after you secure the seats," NS said.
"That is what powerful people tell you until resistance becomes too expensive."
"And what do you offer? Another public collapse? Another fight? Another reason for the university to call our cohort unstable?"
The words reached the nightclub video.
"At least I was there when my friend needed me."
The room changed.
NS understood which friend I meant.
"Do not use HS to win an argument."
"You left his call unanswered to sit beside June."
June heard from the doorway.
Kitty stood behind her.
NS took one step toward me.
"And you abandoned your neurological appointment after everyone begged you to go. Do not lecture me about answering people who need help."
My fractured hand moved before the rest of me.
Pain stopped it inside the splint.
TO stood between us.
He was younger, smaller, and visibly frightened.
He did it anyway.
"The forum starts in five days," he said. "If the seniors destroy each other first, what exactly are we supposed to learn?"
Nobody had an answer.
At 6:12, the Cardiac Centre confirmed Grandmother's procedure for 7:30 the following morning.
I returned to the hospital.
Kitty stayed at Campus 2 because the Queen rehearsal continued until eight.
June remained with NS.
The distance between both groups no longer required an empty row.
It followed us everywhere.
Grandmother was awake when I reached her room.
She had watched the Sleeping Man's placement announcement on the hospital television.
"Eight seats short," she said.
"You are supposed to be resting."
"The television did not ask me to run."
"The festival may restore some of them."
"And if it does not?"
I looked at the monitor.
"Then they rank us."
"You ranked fourth."
"You remember that?"
"I remember the things you pretend are not important when you are frightened."
She looked at my splint.
"Does the other boy rank above you?"
"NS ranked first."
"The one with the serious face and expensive car."
"Yes."
"Are you angry because he is first or because June is beside him?"
"You are having a heart procedure tomorrow."
"Then answer before the medicine improves my manners."
I adjusted the blanket near her hand.
"Both. Maybe."
Grandmother nodded as though I had finally provided a usable history.
"Do you still want this Med Track?"
"Yes."
"Then do not gamble it because another young man knows where your pride lives. If you leave, leave because you chose another life. Do not hand him your future and call the loss honor."
"We argued. We are not fighting."
"Your hand is broken from the last time you said anger was not a fight yet."
I looked away.
Grandmother reached for my left hand.
"Promise me you will reach graduation before you decide who deserves to stand above whom."
"Rest."
"That is not a promise."
The nurse entered with the pre-procedure instructions.
Grandmother released my hand.
She did not repeat the question.
She did not need to.
That night, Kitty slept in her dormitory with the festival guide open beside her.
The Golden Lovers covered the first page.
In the dream, the palace ballroom had become a fighting ring.
XH and NS stood beneath the statues.
The crowd had no faces.
Sleeping Man sat in the Headmaster's chair.
"One stays," he said.
"One leaves."
Kitty tried to enter the ring.
June held the opposite rope.
Neither woman could cross.
XH's splint lay on the floor.
NS's white shirt had turned dark at the collar.
They struck each other without sound.
The Golden Lovers watched.
One man fell.
The standing man looked toward Kitty.
His face disappeared before she recognized it.
Kitty woke with her hands gripping the blanket.
The room was silent.
Her phone showed 2:13.
She messaged me before deciding whether she should.
KITTY: PROMISE ME YOU WILL NOT FIGHT NS.
I read it beside Grandmother's hospital bed.
XH: WHY WOULD I FIGHT HIM?
Kitty watched the answer appear.
It was reasonable.
It did not contain a promise.