The doctors gave Grandmother's heart three medicines and another chance.
Her blood pressure rose slowly enough to make everyone afraid of frightening it.
The temporary pacemaker continued controlling her rhythm. A breathing machine pushed air through the mask while a nurse adjusted medication through two infusion pumps.
The specialist met us outside the room.
"She has developed cardiogenic shock," he said. "The new valve is functioning, but her heart is not generating enough circulation for the rest of her body. Her kidney function has worsened, and the fluid in her lungs is increasing."
"What do you do now?" I asked.
"We support her blood pressure, breathing, and rhythm. We reassess continuously."
"And then?"
His eyes moved briefly toward the room.
"We see what her body can recover."
There was no procedure hidden behind the sentence.
No better machine waiting on another floor.
Only time, and Grandmother had spent too much of hers giving it to everyone else.
NS, June, and Kitty waited at the end of the corridor. Rainwater darkened the shoulders of their clothes. None of them looked like people who had arrived together.
"Go home," I said.
Kitty shook her head.
"I'm staying."
"All of you. Please."
NS placed the car key in my left hand.
"Call if you need anything."
"I don't need your car."
"Then leave it in the parking garage."
It was the wrong moment to resent how easily he could solve practical problems.
I resented it anyway.
June looked through the glass at Grandmother.
"Tell her I came."
Kitty heard the sentence.
This time, she did not answer for me.
At 1:18 in the morning, the nurse allowed me inside.
Grandmother's eyes were closed. The mask covered her mouth and nose, but her fingers moved when I touched them.
"The noisy ones left," I said.
Her eyelids opened.
"Which noisy ones?"
"All of them."
"Then you remain the noisiest."
Her voice barely crossed the oxygen flow.
I pulled the chair close.
"The doctor says your heart needs support."
"It has supported all of you long enough."
"Don't talk like that."
"You prefer lies after midnight?"
"I prefer you alive."
Grandmother looked toward the monitor.
"Preference is not medicine."
I lowered my forehead to the back of her hand.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
The rain tapped the glass with small, patient fingers.
"Was the palace beautiful?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And your friends?"
"Not currently."
Her eyes almost smiled.
"Beauty has always been temporary with young people."
"JP registered to fight KM."
"The funny one?"
"Yes."
"Funny men are often serious where it hurts."
I thought about JP's shaking fingers beneath his name.
"He thinks he has to protect Med Track's dignity."
"A school that requires children to bleed for its dignity has none."
"We're not children."
"You keep proving otherwise."
Her hand tightened weakly around mine.
"Listen to me. Standing in his corner means knowing when to stop him. Do not confuse loyalty with helping a friend destroy himself."
"He won't listen."
"Then make him angry enough to live."
The monitor continued placing perfect green marks between us.
"And NS?" she asked.
"What about him?"
"You say his name with your teeth."
"We disagree."
"You want to defeat him."
I watched the pacing spikes.
"Sometimes."
"And sometimes you want him to become your friend again."
I did not answer.
Grandmother's eyes closed for a moment.
"Do not win so completely that there is nobody left to know you won."
"You made me promise already."
"Promises require maintenance. Like old hearts."
"Yours isn't old."
"Now you are lying badly."
She took two shallow breaths.
"XH."
"I'm here."
"When people love you, stop making them compete for permission to stay."
The words found every name I had avoided.
June.
Kitty.
NS.
Even myself.
"I can make it right," I said.
"Then begin before you need more time."
Lightning whitened the room.
The thunder arrived immediately, though the storm radar on the television showed nothing above Yandong.
Grandmother looked toward the window.
"Strange season."
"It will pass."
"Everything does."
Her fingers relaxed inside mine.
The nurse increased the oxygen and asked her to rest.
Grandmother looked at me once more.
"Comb."
"What?"
"Bring my comb home. Hospitals lose everything."
"You can take it yourself."
"Stubborn boy."
"Stubborn woman."
Her eyes closed.
Those were the last words she heard from me.
At 3:07, her blood pressure fell despite the medication.
At 3:11, the nurse called the intensive-care team.
At 3:13, I was standing outside the glass again.
The pacemaker continued firing.
The electrical rhythm remained visible, but Grandmother no longer had a pulse.
One doctor began chest compressions. Another gave medication. The room filled with the practiced violence required to ask a body not to leave.
I counted compressions until numbers stopped meaning anything.
Thirty.
Sixty.
Ninety.
For one fractured second, the glass became a windshield.
I was upside down inside red metal. An ambulance waited far beyond the corner. Blood moved toward my forehead instead of away from it. Someone in white stood beneath the NeverMore entrance and watched the road.
Then a doctor called for another rhythm check.
The hospital returned.
There was still no pulse.
At 3:36, the specialist stopped looking at the monitor.
He looked at the clock.
"Time of death, 03:36."
Nobody removed the pacing line immediately.
For several seconds, the machine continued placing perfect spikes across the screen.
Instructions without an answer.
I remembered Grandmother asking me to take home her comb.
That was how death became real.
Not through the clock.
Through an object she no longer needed.
Death required six signatures before sunrise.
A nurse placed Grandmother's belongings inside a clear hospital bag and read each item aloud.
One handbag.
One phone.
One pair of slippers.
One comb.
The hearing aid she insisted she did not need.
The cardigan Kitty had folded over the visitor chair.
I signed beneath the list.
The specialist returned after changing out of his procedure clothes. He explained the sequence again because hospitals understood that grief damaged hearing even in people who had no problem with their ears.
The valve had remained in place.
The pacemaker had continued producing electrical activity.
Her heart had stopped creating an effective contraction.
The team had treated pulseless electrical activity according to protocol. There had been no reversible cause they could correct in time.
"Did she feel it?" I asked.
"She was already receiving medication for discomfort and breathlessness. Based on what we observed, I do not believe she suffered during the arrest."
I wanted a stronger promise.
Medicine did not provide one.
At 4:09, I opened the cohort group and typed six different messages.
I deleted all of them.
Finally, I sent the only sentence that did not try to improve what happened.
XH: GRANDMOTHER DIED AT 3:36.
Nobody reacted with an emoji.
JP began typing first.
He stopped.
Kitty called instead.
I answered, but neither of us spoke for twelve seconds.
"I'm coming back," she said.
"You don't have to."
"I know."
That was why she came.
HS called next.
"I don't know what to say," he admitted.
"Neither do I."
"Then I can stay on the phone and not say it with you."
We remained connected while a porter removed the empty equipment from Grandmother's room.
TZ sent the address of a funeral service that had helped his family. Anna offered to contact the temple. NC began organizing food without asking whether anyone was hungry. Jihye told the university office that I was unavailable.
June sent one private message.
JUNE: I AM SO SORRY, XH. I WISH I HAD COME INSIDE.
I read it twice.
I did not know whether she meant the hospital room, the last year of my life, or both.
Outside, the rain stopped at 3:36.
Not gradually.
One moment it struck every window in the cardiac unit. The next, the glass held only the water already running down it.
The city became silent enough for me to hear Grandmother's phone vibrating inside the clear bag.
The alarm label read MORNING MEDICINE.
I turned it off.
The university sent the festival reminder at 7:00.
LEGACIES OF RESILIENCE: ALL FEATURED STUDENTS MUST REPORT TO NEVERMORE PALACE BY 13:30.
Beneath it, Acting Director K's assistant asked whether my accountability statement could be delivered by video if I was unable to attend in person.
I stared at the message until Kitty took the phone from my hand.
"No," she typed.
The assistant replied within one minute.
WE UNDERSTAND THIS IS A DIFFICULT TIME. THE FUNDRAISING WINDOW CANNOT BE RESCHEDULED. MR. XH'S STORY IS CENTRAL TO THE RESTORATION APPEAL.
Kitty's face hardened.
"Your story," she said. "They mean your humiliation."
"The placements need money."
"Your grandmother died four hours ago."
"I know when she died."
The words came out sharper than I intended.
Kitty placed the phone beside me.
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
She went back to Campus 2 to collect clothes for me and tell the others I would not attend.
I stayed at the hospital with Grandmother's handbag on my lap.
The comb rested inside the front pocket.
June was waiting inside the female dormitory lounge when Kitty returned.
Bunny and Cherry sat near the window. NC, Anna, and Jihye stood beside the long table where the festival costumes had been arranged.
The white Queen dress hung between both groups.
"Is he coming?" June asked.
"His grandmother died," Kitty replied.
June's anger disappeared.
"When?"
"Three thirty-six."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
Kitty dropped XH's folded clothes into a bag.
"Not everything happens for your notification."
"I asked because I care about him."
"You care when caring doesn't interfere with NS."
NC said Kitty's name quietly.
It was already too late.
June stood.
"Do you really want to do this today?"
"You were waiting here to ask whether he would perform his grief for Sleeping Man."
"I was trying to keep five placement seats alive. Some of us cannot hide inside a relationship whenever the program becomes difficult."
Kitty turned.
"Hide inside a relationship? You changed relationships the moment a richer, safer future opened its door."
"XH is not a future you gave me."
"I gave you friendship. I gave you a place with us when you transferred here. You took every kindness, built your reputation inside our group, dated XH, moved toward NS, and now you act as though everyone else is invading your life."
June laughed once without humor.
"There it is. Your kindness was an investment. You thought welcoming me meant I owed you every man in the room."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"You chased XH while he was with me. You wanted NS when he looked at me. Now you're secretly sleeping beside XH and pretending loyalty makes it pure."
Kitty stepped across the dress lying between them.
"Don't call me cheap because you could not decide which boy gave you the better life."
"I didn't call you cheap."
"You didn't need to."
"Then let me be clear. Stop acting like a loyal dog who finally earned permission to climb onto the bed."
Anna inhaled sharply.
Kitty's face emptied.
"At least the person beside me knows my name when he is sober."
June moved closer.
"You sanctimonious bitch."
"And you're a selfish slut who kept one man in public while kissing another in secret."
The room became silent enough to hear the dormitory elevator open outside.
Bunny stood beside June.
"June was drugged at the club while XH was nowhere near her. NS protected her. Where was Kitty's loyalty then?"
NC faced her.
"XH ran four stations because VT arranged the traffic block. He arrived and NS treated him like a stranger trying to steal his own girlfriend."
Cherry shook her head.
"His own girlfriend? June is not property. He grabbed NS's collar in front of her. She slapped him because he would not stop."
"And Kitty watched her do it," Anna said. "You expect that to disappear because June had reasons?"
Jihye placed both palms on the table.
"All of us keep choosing the version that makes our friend innocent. None of them are innocent."
June looked at Kitty.
"You want gratitude? Fine. Thank you for welcoming me. That did not buy XH, NS, or my silence."
Kitty lifted the bag.
"Keep your gratitude. It sounds as cheap as everything else you give after you're finished using it."
The lounge door opened.
JP entered first, followed by TZ, HS, and NS.
The juniors had heard shouting in the corridor and called them.
NS saw June's face.
"What happened?"
"Your girlfriend happened," Kitty said.
June did not deny the word.
The silence after it was more damaging than confirmation.
JP looked toward the hospital bag in Kitty's hand.
"Where is XH?"
"Still with his grandmother," Kitty said.
NS turned toward the door.
"I'm going to him."
"Why?" Kitty asked. "So you can arrive with another solution he cannot afford?"
NS stopped.
JP stepped between them.
"Not today. Everyone shut up for one day."
"You signed up to get beaten by KM because someone insulted a department," TZ said. "Do not lecture anyone about shutting up."
JP looked at him.
"At least I signed my own name. You spend every day standing behind NS and call it reliability."
TZ's face changed.
The line had found him.
HS moved into the center of the room.
"Stop using me, XH's grandmother, Med Track, and the Headmaster as weapons for arguments you already wanted to have."
Nobody answered.
He looked at NS.
"And stop trying to fix people only after the emergency makes you feel guilty."
NS accepted the sentence without defending himself.
That frightened June more than anger would have.
Outside, the university speakers began testing the memorial music.
Headmaster N's voice entered the dormitory through an old recording.
You do not become healers by being the smartest person in the room. You become healers by refusing to abandon the person beside you.
Every person in the lounge had abandoned someone.
The recording continued while the two groups stood on opposite sides of the white dress.
At 12:42, I carried Grandmother's handbag out of the hospital.
The rain had stopped.
The street was dry.
NS waited beside the black-and-gold Ferrari.
"Kitty told me," he said.
"Told you what?"
"Everything."
"That word is doing too much work today."
He opened the passenger door.
"Let me take you home."
"You always think being useful makes you right."
"And you think suffering alone makes you honest."
I looked at him across the roof of the car.
"My grandmother made me promise I would not fight you."
NS did not move.
"Then keep it."
"You sound disappointed."
"I sound tired."
"You took June. You missed HS's call. You stood inside my group and decided which parts were worth saving. Now you're tired?"
His hand tightened around the door.
"You only notice people after someone else chooses them. June. Kitty. HS. Even JP. You call it loyalty because regret sounds worse."
Grandmother's comb pressed against my palm through the handbag.
My promise stood between us.
I stepped closer anyway.
"One day your money won't be allowed inside the room. Then we will find out what is left of you."
NS met my eyes.
"Name the room."
Neither of us said octagon.
We no longer needed to.