The trauma wing of the Neo-Chang'an Imperial Hospital smelled sterile, sharp, and aggressively clean.
Rian Kuro walked down the brightly lit, white-tiled corridor, holding Iris's hand. In his other hand, he carried a large, slightly grease-stained paper bag that was radiating the incredible, mouth-watering aroma of roasted pork, spicy chili wings, and sweet steamed buns. Tucked securely under his arm was the small, newly repaired short-wave radio receiver he had finished soldering the night before.
On his right index finger, the dark silver ring rested comfortably against his skin.
His mind was a picture of absolute, unbothered tranquility. There were no thoughts of espionage, no complex mathematical traps involving screwdrivers, and absolutely no ghosts. He was simply a seventeen-year-old boy, deeply in love with the girl walking beside him, on his way to visit his best friend.
"Do you think he's going to be mad?" Iris asked, her pale eyes looking up at Rian as she held a small, synthetic potted bonsai tree under her other arm.
"Kenji? Mad?" Rian chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. "He's probably just bored. He's been stuck in that bed for three days. Once he smells the barbecue and sees his physics project is finished, he'll forgive us for taking so long to visit."
Rian stopped in front of Room 602. He tapped the access panel, and the heavy door hissed open.
Kenji was lying flat on his back on the mechanized medical bed, his left leg elevated and encased in a humming, blue-lit stasis-cast. The moment the door opened, Kenji slowly turned his head. His eyes narrowed into incredibly dramatic, furious slits. He aggressively crossed his arms over his hospital gown.
"Unbelievable," Kenji deadpanned, his voice dripping with heavy, theatrical betrayal. "The sheer, unadulterated audacity."
"Good afternoon to you too, Kenji," Rian smiled warmly, walking into the room.
"Don't 'good afternoon' me, Kuro," Kenji snapped, pointing an accusing finger at them. "Three days! I have been trapped in this sterile nightmare for three days! I have been surviving on nutrient-gelatin that tastes like wet drywall, and what have you two been doing? I saw the geotags on your social feeds, Rian! The inner gardens? The Lantern District? The tea houses?!"
Kenji threw his hands up in the air, looking toward the ceiling as if asking the heavens for strength. "I am literally dying of a crushed femur, and you two have been off on romantic strolls, feeding each other steamed buns under the cherry blossoms!"
"Your femur isn't crushed, Kenji. It's a localized hairline fracture," Iris corrected smoothly, drifting over to his bedside table. She carefully placed the synthetic bonsai next to his water pitcher. "And your aura is an incredibly aggressive shade of mustard yellow today. It's very chaotic. I brought you a tree to help filter out all of your complaining."
Kenji glared at the bonsai tree. "I don't need a tree, Iris. I need better friends. Friends who don't abandon me to the medical droids while they play the protagonists in a rom-com."
"We didn't abandon you," Rian laughed, entirely unfazed by his best friend's dramatics. He walked over and placed the grease-stained paper bag directly onto Kenji's lap, then set the small radio receiver down on the bedside table. "We just had to make a detour to Sector 3 to secure the peace offering, and I stayed up late fixing the copper coil on your applied physics project."
Kenji paused. He looked down at the bag, and then over at the completed radio project. The smell of the smoked ribs hit his nose, and the furious, betrayed expression instantly melted off his face, replaced by a look of profound, near-religious reverence.
"Is that..." Kenji whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he opened the bag.
"Jade-crust pizza, spicy wings, and the roasted pork buns from your favorite stall," Rian listed off, pulling up a plastic chair and sitting next to the bed. "Plus a guaranteed passing grade in applied physics. I bribed the nurse at the front desk to let us bring outside food in."
Kenji looked up from the bag, his dark eyes shining with genuine, unshed tears of joy. "I take back every terrible thing I thought about you for the last forty-eight hours. You are a saint, Rian. You are the greatest friend a man could ask for. I would take a falling pillar for you any day of the week."
"I appreciate the loyalty," Rian grinned, taking a steamed bun from the bag and handing one to Iris. "Just try not to get any barbecue sauce on the stasis-cast. The doctors will kill me."
For the next hour, the sterile hospital room was filled with the loud, chaotic sounds of normal high school life. They ate greasy food, talked over each other, and laughed until Kenji complained that his bruised ribs were hurting.
"So, how much of Master Zhang's calculus curriculum have I missed?" Kenji asked, his mouth completely full of spicy chicken. "Tell me he pushed the mid-term back because of the... you know, the attack."
"Not a chance," Rian shook his head sympathetically. "He actually added two chapters on differential equations. He said structural collapses are no excuse for poor mathematics."
Kenji groaned loudly, letting his head fall back against the pillows. "I'm going to fail. I'm actually going to fail. Rian, you have to let me copy your notes. I'll do anything. I'll do your laundry for a month."
"I'll share my notes with you, Kenji," Iris offered, taking a delicate bite of her bun.
Kenji looked at her, entirely unenthused. "Iris, I love you, but the last time I borrowed your notes, half the pages were just incredibly detailed sketches of ferns, and the other half were poems about the 'vibrational frequency' of triangles. I need actual numbers."
"Triangles are very stressful shapes," Iris defended dreamily, leaning slightly into Rian's side. "They have too many sharp points."
Rian chuckled, reaching out with a napkin. He gently, affectionately wiped a small smudge of sweet chili sauce off the corner of Iris's cheek. She smiled up at him, a soft, incredibly sweet expression, and rested her head on his shoulder.
Kenji immediately made a loud, exaggerated gagging noise from the bed.
"Please," Kenji pleaded, covering his eyes with his hand. "I am a wounded, bedridden man. Do not subject me to your sickening domestic bliss. It's bad enough I had to watch you reject that junior, Mei, in the hallway last week. You two are disgustingly in love, and it's making my fractured leg hurt worse."
Rian's face flushed a faint, embarrassed pink, but he didn't pull away from Iris. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer.
The heavy, dark silver ring on his right index finger pressed softly against her side.
"Sorry, Kenji," Rian smiled, looking down at the ethereal girl resting against his shoulder. His heart swelled with an absolute, undeniable warmth. There were no calculations. There was no paranoia. There was only a profound, overwhelming sense of gratitude.
He looked at Kenji, happily devouring a slice of pizza, and then at Iris, perfectly content by his side. The world outside this hospital room was terrifying. The Empire was cruel, the Emperor was a tyrant, and the news feeds were filled with war and ghosts.
But right here, Rian thought, a deep, peaceful sigh escaping his lips. Right here, I have everything I could ever want. I'm the luckiest guy in the world.