CHAPTER 105: CH 105: BACK TO WORK - PART 2

Kana stirred awake, her body sluggish as though it had been pinned down all night. She blinked slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light spilling through the curtains.

When she finally sat up, her gaze drifted toward the window. Beyond the glass stretched a horizon painted in red and gold.

For a moment, Kana froze. The glow was so rich, so deep, it could only mean one thing.

Her heart skipped.

Quickly, she turned her head toward the clock on the wall. The hands stood at six.

"Six?"

Kana muttered under her breath, eyes darting between the clock and the glowing horizon. The thought pierced her chest—had she slept through the entire day?

Was it already evening?

Her pulse quickened. Lysera—she had left Lysera in that sickbed. What if something had happened? Why hadn’t anyone come to wake her? Why had Irielle let her sleep?

Her eyes returned to the horizon, but her mind was empty, her body stiff. She sat there for almost fifteen minutes, staring with a blank expression, confusion swirling with dread.

And then, finally, it struck her.

The glow wasn’t fading—it was rising.

Her lips parted slightly as realization swept over her. The sun wasn’t setting at all—it was climbing into the sky. It was morning.

Kana’s shoulders slumped with a shaky sigh.

Relief mixed with embarrassment at her own panic, but she couldn’t dwell on it. Lysera was still sick. That thought alone shot her into motion.

She kicked the covers aside, slipping out of bed in a rush. Her bare feet hit the cool floor as she quickly made her way out, her robe barely tied as she hurried to check.

When she reached the room, the sight waiting for her caught her off guard.

Lysera was sitting up, awake.

And Irielle was sprawled on the couch, asleep, her arm dangling off the side and her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.

Kana moved closer, instinctively reaching to wake Irielle, but Lysera’s soft voice stopped her.

"Don’t. Let her rest. She... she was the one looking after me."

Kana paused, her hand hovering above Irielle’s shoulder before she slowly withdrew it. Her eyes moved to Lysera.

Despite the tired look in her eyes, there was a faint, calm smile there.

Instead, Kana crossed the room to Lysera’s side. She leaned in, carefully brushing her hand across Lysera’s forehead.

"You’re still a little warm. You should rest more."

Kana murmured, her brow furrowing with concern.

When she pulled her hand back, however, she froze.

Lysera’s face had turned red—bright, heated, flustered. She quickly shifted, leaning back as though trying to put distance between them.

"I... I’m fine. I’ve recovered enough. I can go back to work now."

Lysera said, her voice almost stammering.

Kana frowned.

"You shouldn’t risk your health like this. Just take another day, to be safe."

But Lysera shook her head stubbornly, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her.

"Really. I’m alright. I’m ready to return."

Kana hesitated. She wanted to insist, but Lysera’s eyes held a quiet determination that made her swallow her protest.

And then, a thought clicked in Kana’s mind. Work. She herself had taken quite the long absence. She couldn’t afford to stretch it any longer.

"...I suppose I need to head back too."

Kana admitted softly.

Their eyes met briefly before they both looked away.

So, with quiet agreement, Kana and Lysera decided to head out for their respective duties together.

Irielle remained fast asleep on the couch, unaware of the morning light spilling across her face as the two slipped out.

Kana tightened her robe as she and Lysera stepped quietly toward the hall.

For a moment, she glanced back at Irielle, still curled up on the couch, her breathing steady and hair scattered across her face.

A part of Kana felt guilty for leaving her there, but Lysera’s earlier words still lingered.

Irielle had been the one who stayed behind and looked after her when Kana had collapsed into sleep. She deserved every minute of rest.

Kana shifted her gaze back to Lysera.

Even though she claimed she was fine, there was still a faint paleness in her cheeks and a heaviness in her movements.

Kana slowed her steps, her instinct urging her to stop Lysera and push her back to bed.

"Are you really sure?"

Kana asked again, her voice softer this time, not scolding, but laced with worry.

Lysera glanced at her, then looked away quickly, her pace steady.

"If I stay lying down any longer, I’ll start feeling weaker. Moving will help me recover."

Kana frowned but said nothing more. She could hear the unspoken part: Lysera wasn’t the type to stay bedridden if she could help it.

The two walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the muffled patter of their footsteps and the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath them.

The air between them felt different now—lighter than last night’s tension, yet edged with something Kana couldn’t quite place.

At the door, Kana turned once more toward Lysera, hesitation pulling at her words.

"If you start feeling worse, promise me you’ll stop and go back to rest."

Lysera’s lips curved faintly, though she quickly averted her eyes.

"You worry too much."

"That’s because you don’t worry enough."

Kana muttered under her breath, but the words carried a quiet warmth that made Lysera’s ears burn.

Kana adjusted the strap of her bag, her mind briefly drifting to her own workplace. She had taken too many days off in a row—her manager would surely have questions.

Still, the thought of leaving Lysera after everything made her stomach twist uneasily.

She shook the feeling away. They had no choice but to resume their lives, at least for now.

As they stepped outside, the morning air greeted them, crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of dew.

The rising sun painted the streets in gold, and Kana blinked against the brightness.

For a fleeting second, she glanced at Lysera’s profile, the sunlight glinting across her hair, and she found her chest tightening again.

They moved forward side by side, quietly—leaving behind the faintly snoring Irielle, who would no doubt be upset when she woke to find herself abandoned.