A LOSS A CHANCE

At the Drill Clinic on the twelfth deck.

Though Hundred was standing still outside the door, Mulyk, however, leaned closer to the door and did her best to hear the inside conversation.

"Oi, stop eavesdropping," he urged her.

"How can you stand calm like that when a man and a woman are alone in a room for this long?" Mulyk asked, peering at him with her huge eyes.

"This long? It hasn't even been five minutes."

"That's hundreds of seconds right there," she resumed her eavesdropping. "Wait, I hear something."

"Does it hurt?" a faint feminine voice came from inside the room. It was like a whisper that caressed her ear.

"Ow, yes," a slightly clear masculine voice replied.

"Does it hurt now?"

"It hurts. Stop doing that!"

At this point, Mulyk's face turned into a tomato.

"Oi, you look uncomfortable," Hundred asked, but his gaze at the moment felt like a leer that burnt through her clothes and set her cheeks on fire. "What's wrong—"

"Stop looking at me like that!" she slapped him as she stood straight and turned away from the door.

"W-What was that for?" Hundred's face metamorphosed into a donkey-face as he rubbed his cheek.

"Those fiends…" She folded her arms and harrumphed. "What sort of barbaric stuff are they doing in my clinic? They better keep the bedsheets clean-fu!"

"You're imagining too much," Hundred hesitantly replied. "It's a monk who's inside. She won't do such things."

"Oh, really?" Her upper lip jerked a bit as if she was mocking his words. "Why don't you try your luck?"

After pausing a moment, the curiosity got to Hundred, and he leaned closer to the door.

"Stay down and stop moving."

"How can I not move with what you're doing?"

Hundred's eyes enlarged, and he looked at Mulyk in doubt and disbelief.

"What do you say now?" she tilted her head to her right as her gaze weighed him down.

Hundred had nothing to say for a few seconds, and then he replied hoarsely, "I-I didn't hear it that clearly, so we might be mistaken."

"Hmph, don't compare your ears with mine."

Meanwhile, inside the clinic.

Everna was poking Lirzod at multiple places, especially around the navel. "Is it hurting?"

"I've told you like ten times. Why do you keep repeating yourself?" Lirzod asked, with a little bit of worry creeping up in his face. "And why is a simple poke hurting?"

"Obviously, there's a problem inside you."

"What problem?" some stress marks showed up on his forehead. "Did some worms get in while I was asleep?"

"Until I collect more data," she replied as calmly as ever, "I can't give you a good answer."

"How long will it take?" he asked impatiently.

"A few more pokes is all," she poked him again.

"Aw, this time it's hurting more."

"Oh, it's different this time, huh." A seed of doubt sprouted in her mind, as evident through the flashing of a teeny bit of fright in her eyes.

"Since you started poking," his butt sank lower into the bed, "I feel some kind of burning sensation under my skin. It also feels like I've gained some weight."

"I think I now know what has happened," she cast him a slightly pitiful glance. "You weren't healed properly."

"Took you this long just to say that?" Lirzod shot his dissatisfied gaze at her.

"That's not all." Her voice turned a bit harsh as she glared at the blood marks on the floor, "Whoever healed you—just barely did their work."

"It's that one in the elf costume…" Lirzod said as a conflicting emotion rose up in his chest, "it's not that big of a deal, or is it?"

"If you were to roam in this state," she focused on recalling her memories, "you may not feel any problem initially, but as time goes by, your health will gradually worsen."

"W-What?" Lirzod freaked out. "Why? I thought I was healed."

"I already told you that you weren't healed properly," Everna responded with a knowing look. "It's one of the wayward arts of healing. Instead of starting one's healing from the roots, the healers concentrate on the branches instead. Not anyone can use this art, so whoever healed you—knew exactly what they were doing. They just healed you on the outside but left a lot of internal damage uncured." She wondered for a moment. (I heard rumors that if one can't afford this clinic, they don't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting treated here. So it doesn't make sense that such a strict clinic would stoop to such a crooked practice.)

"Eh?" Lirzod looked baffled. "That elf-imposter didn't fully heal me then? Then am I going to die?"

Everna squinted her eyes, "What do you think I'm here for?"

Her words, though initially fell on him like a flattening boulder, but then all the stress and worry on his face softened up. "Y-You believe that you can get me back in full health?"

"If we're talking about ordinary healing, then it won't be easy." She exposed her palms. "As the saying goes, it takes only a second to break an arm, but it takes many months to heal." Lirzod shuddered upon hearing her words. "However, it's your lucky day because I'm here. You are going to be alright in no time."

"That's great," Lirzod almost sprang up from the bed, wanting to hug her, but she pushed him down with just a finger. "But I'm sure that it's not luck that brought you to me. So, after we're done here, let's go and have a good meal together." Even though he said that, he was wondering where he could go other than to a bread booth.

Everna's eyes brightened up a little. "T-Thanks for asking, but I can't do that," she said rather bluntly. "After I'm done here, you won't be able to move for quite some time."

Unwillingness dawned on his face. "Just what are you planning to do with me?"

Everna went into deep thought. (I was told of the malignant germs flowing through his body. With the level I'm at, even if I identify them, there's no way I can kill them. That leaves me with only one option.)

"You didn't answer me," Lirzod asked again, albeit with a shaky voice.

Everna narrowed her eyes, which no longer dazzled with warm light, "I will heal you, but before that, I'm going to give you a lesson today."

"Lesson?" he asked in a tense tone, "Like in school?"

"Yeah, something like that. You may not feel the need to hear this now, but there will come a time when you'll be glad that you did," Everna said, poking her finger on his chest so that he wouldn't move around, and then she leaned and said something in his ears.

After she was finished, Lirzod had a confounded look on his face that looked like a monkey that struggled to break a coconut for an entire day, but then a human snatched it and sliced the top of a coconut shell and then drank with a straw. The monkey, though, got upset initially, thanked the human later when he gave the shell back after drinking half of the contents inside.

Lirzod felt as if some melody massaged his ears. "Think twice before you anger someone and thrice if that someone is yourself, huh." His saliva tasted like honey at the moment. "It sounds great. I don't know if I can follow it or not, but I will try to memorize what you said in my heart."

Everna smiled pleasantly as was needed. "Just whispering them to yourself now and then should be sufficient at the start."

"That said, you monks may not look cool but sure have cool things to say," he said and then hesitantly asked, a flutter of hope in his gut ready to rise through to the chest, "so you still don't want to grow a braid?"

Everna sighed, placing her hands on her waist. "Why do you care about my hair so much? You shouldn't be judging others' appearances like this. Didn't your parents even teach you that?"

"Of course, my mother told me to not judge people unless it's necessary, and my father told me to test everything the world throws at us and also what we throw at the world so that we can learn how to judge justly," Lirzod said, grinning heartily and at the same time a bit apologetically. "And I'm just throwing at you my honest opinion, just calling it for what it is." He put his finger on his chin. "In hindsight, maybe I was a bit hasty with all this, and if you're hurt by my actions, then you have my apologies." He briefly paused. "So, are you going to grow some hair now?"

"Well, thanks for your opinion and testing, but I clearly explained my end, didn't I?" she stressed her words. "So you should stop practicing your skills on me, and just give up on this issue."

"How can I give up?" Lirzod replied right away, "Every time I see you, that soft ground on your head is outshining your face!" His words made her go silent for a moment. "You are great, but you will be greater when a mop of hair is flowing down your head." He then continued to speak with a clenched fist, "I don't think that baldness makes the monk. I may have lost now, but since hair can grow on your head[1], I will take my chances in the future as long as you fail to convince me."

"That'll be a waste of time," Everna blurted out abruptly; however, she controlled herself pretty quickly, "so just stop it, okay?"

"Give me one good reason, and I'll stop bringing it up."

"It looks like your blood is furnished with stubbornness! In any case, I already explained myself."

"You did, but that didn't convince me," Lirzod said, and upon looking at the slight shock in her face, he sighed. "O-Okay. You've seen my blood. Stubbornness is not what it's made of, right?"

"Hmph, then do what I say and never mention about my hair again."

"Sure, but..." he showed his cheek. "If you give me a kiss, I'll never talk about your hair again."

"Huh? Nonsense..." she waved her hand, her body language clearly telling that she was totally against the idea so much so that she oozed out a bit of hatred.

"Okay," though some hankering escaped out of his eyes, his voice still sounded hopeful, "Can I at least pinch your cheek once?"

"No."

"Can I, at the very least, get a handshake?"

"No," she tightened her fist, a bit of distress still dwelling in her eyes, "I won't just talk if you bring up any more of your farcical requests again."

Lirzod's shoulders jerked, but he shook his head as if he wasn't convinced. His eyes still dazzled with doggedness, and for a second, just a second, he was unable to stomach her attitude. "You are being so stingy right now. It's just a simple kiss. What's the big deal?"

"You don't know me at all, and the same goes for me as well. Why should I listen much less agree to what you say?" Everna folded her arms, her hands still making fists. "Honestly, you aren't even half-baked." Her voice then gained weight, "Before you throw your flowers or fists at someone, try to know them better, and then you might end up changing their minds, or, who knows, you might even end up changing yours," she somewhat loosening her fist, but her voice still pounded in Lirzod's head. "It is one of your 'honest' opinions that brought you to this state, and don't forget that Geragorn's issue either. You just have to stop being too free-spoken to avoid such mishappenings, or you'll stand out like a sore thumb, someone to stare at and pick a fight with. You wouldn't be welcomed into their groups either." She breathed, and her gaze settled on Lirzod's mien. "Look, I agree with your parents' words, but they didn't tell you to hurt others' feelings, did they? Sometimes, you should keep your opinions to yourself."

Lirzod's head spun a little, and he made the expression of a lost lamb. "How?" as his gullible gaze met her eyes, his mouth closed bitterly while he waited for her to say something.

There was a second where none moved as their eyes seemingly measured each other's depth.

"What?" Everna's expression then turned blank upon seeing the lovable innocence on his face. "W-What do you mean by 'how?'" Her voice was half-hearted as she fought the urge to pull his cheeks. "S-Stop acting like a child!" she subconsciously stepped back once, away from the bed.

"I just spoke my mind," Lirzod quickly replied in an irked manner. "How can it be childish?"

"Well," she took a quick deep breath, forcing calmness to curtain her face, "it is, so you should change yourself by slowly working on it. For starters, try to show at least some respect to those you meet on this ship. Not many have the courage to step out of their village and see the world much less step foot on this ship. Despite all the rules we have here, people die for reasons known or otherwise. You showed everyone that you're different just by leaving your home and boarding this ship, but you still can't see the world if you continue to run your mouth over frivolous affairs and waste your time on those who aren't worthy of it."

"But what if others bother me first?" Lirzod's voice was a complaint wrapped up in a gift box. "What can I do if those brothers got butthurt just because I spoke my mind?"

"That's why I'm telling you to not be excessively straightforward and instead give it some time before you say something that might affect others, whether it's in a good or a bad way," she urged, upon sensing his growing persistence. "A small stone in the kidney can greatly change a person's life, but so does a wrongly chosen word."

"I get what you are saying, but…" Lirzod frowned for a moment but then took a breath with some effort as if he needed some fresh air. "I don't regret fighting the brothers, and I'll fight them again if I have to," there wasn't an ounce of defeat in his words. "Don't think of it as me being careless and prideful, but just like any other human being, I don't like to walk around in defeat for nothing." He spoke with rock-ribbed confidence, "As long as the sun is shining and I'm breathing, I'll continue to see struggle as a season for me to gain strength and help myself keep growing and going. But..." He clenched his fists. "Living isn't easy. There are many resources and so much knowledge in this world that I don't know anything about, and there will be plenty of folks who know of such things and will use them either for or against others. It's such a scary, volatile world we're living in if there is no God. None of us are in control of anything, even though we may think we have control over our lives. I didn't want to fight those brothers, but they left me no choice. It's one thing that they hated me, but they didn't put others in their eyes either. They killed so many cats and caused so much destruction for what? Because I asked them a question, which if answered, could end most rumors for good? All of this happened because they seemed ashamed of speaking about their own past."

Suddenly, the room got quiet as he dwelled on his past actions for some time. He remembered the blast.

Everna, on the other hand, was also brooding on his words. Simply put, she understood that he was saying that even if he stopped being so straightforward, it may not be enough to preserve peace because friction sprang to life in many ways, because different people had different thresholds of patience, levels of understanding, and rabbit-holes of resources. Her mouth slightly downturned as she somewhat nodded in rapport.

"Still, you should at least be willing to change yourself when the need arises," she urged.

"You should at least be willing to change yourself when the need arises," said Lirzod, glancing at her bald head, as if suggesting to her that his desire to see her with hair was enough reason for her to feel the need to grow some hair.

"No, not that again."

"No, not that again."

Everna's brows twitched a little. "Why are you repeating my words!"

"Haha," Lirzod understood that any more of his imitation would get him a smacking, so he stopped. "The words just came out in a flow, that's all."

Everna shook her head. "We monks advise people to mix a little silliness in their simple or serious plans, but it feels like you're the exact opposite. You mix a little simpleness or seriousness in your silly plans."

"Thanks for the compliment." Lirzod giggled.

Everna gave a long sigh. "Never mind."

A few seconds of silence passed.

"So... those five…" Lirzod hesitantly asked, "how are they doing?"

Everna wasn't expecting that question, so she responded a bit late, "Well, they are wounded, but not enough to worry about, except, I guess, for one of them."

"Mm? What about that one?"

"He's got some fever going on," she sounded doubtful as she spoke. "It seemed strange, but the brothers said that it's nothing life-threatening."

"Oh," Lirzod nodded, "that's good."

Everna's eyes opened up and took in more light, a warmer one. "Why, why do you care about their wellbeing when you are on this bed because of them?"

"Care?" He felt soreness in his chest where Hardy had pounded him repeatedly, but he couldn't keep his mouth shut, "I don't care about them." He remembered how Hardy killed the cats by stomping on them, and how he carelessly destroyed everything in his way just to get what he wanted. "They don't even fight fairly, those pigs in wigs," Lirzod replied right away but then held his tongue for a second before resuming to speak, "but... if they die, they won't be able to meet their mother, right?"

Everna felt tongue-tied for a moment as a surge of strange comfort shook her core. "Ahem," she then cleared her throat, "well, those brothers have already approached me, and they aren't affected by germs as you did." She narrowed her eyes and sarcastically said, "so you can stop caring about them."

"Like I said, I don't care what happens to—" Lirzod's brows suddenly jumped up, and he immediately turned his face toward her. "What germs?"

"Ones that might kill you," her reply was as fast as a jab.

"Oh, got it," Lirzod nodded, "wait, what?" His heart sank like a stone and drowned in the juices of his stomach.

"But worry not," Everna opened up her fist, and there was a vial in her palm, and a yellow drop of liquid could be seen at the bottom of the vial. "I don't like to give 'instant cures' to people because most don't deserve it, and it's also not good for the body to go through such a sudden change, but your case is different."

"Ew, what's that yellow thing," Lirzod's expression changed for the worse. He shook as if an insect crawled under his shirt.

"Water has tremendous healing abilities, especially one that's been canonized," she removed the lid and looked at him. "If you drink this, you'll probably be freed from all pain, well, not exactly all, but most forms of it. Then again, even after taking this one, you'll still not feel at your full strength, because you've probably lost a lot of blood. And since this is also probably your first time getting healed in this manner, your body will feel stiff, and some random pains might bother you for a while. You should have understood by now how special this is."

"Don't tell me," Lirzod's eyes turned rounder than the moon, "it's piss!"

Everna gritted her teeth a little, a shade of dark yellow occupying her face. "Are you even listening? It's holy water. A genuine and a high class one. After taking this, your body will be flooded with blessed healing energy, which even provides resistance against many hurtful things. Forget about cat scratches, even dog bites won't affect you for at least a week. You should be glad that I'm willing to waste this only drop I have on you."

"I don't believe you," Lirzod sat straight and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner and investigated her expression with his enlarged eyes. "Holy water? Is there even such a thing? Just tell me, whose piss did you steal?"

Everna took a faint breath without blinking, "I didn't steal it."

"Oh, so it's yours then."

Everna's face turned expressionless, but her eyes gained a bit of redness.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Lirzod's expression turned wary.

Everna's breath became audible.

"I knew it," Lirzod tried to move back on his butt, but he reached the end of the bed, "How could you even think of making me have that? Even if all the rivers in the mountains, wells in the plains, and oceans in the world were to dry up, I'm still not drinking your—"

"It's holy water, you dimwit!" a solid smack on the head stopped Lirzod's flurry of words, and just as he lifted his head, she stuffed the vial in his mouth and smacked again on the top of his head, forcing the vial to surf down his throat.

Lirzod's eyes bulged out like someone who stepped on poop, and he tried to squeeze his own throat, but it was too late.

"You are so mouthy, and you've made me talk a lot today," she said, trying to calm down her heart to beat at a minimum. "Don't struggle too much. That's an edible glass, so all's good."

"No, it's not, uwagh," Lirzod bent forward and tried to cough out everything that was in his stomach while being on the bed itself.

"Stop spoiling the sheets!" she put some strength into her palm and made a chopping movement toward his nape. At the moment, he looked like a sacrificial goat, ready to suffer its fate, yet not fully aware of what was going on. Soon as the strike landed on the back of the neck, the head didn't fly, but the eyes turned white, and then the boy hugged the bed, his butt poking the air.

Meanwhile, Mulyk, who just tried to listen in again from outside the door, happened to hear a few words. (Spoiling the sheets?) She almost fell back from what she heard. Her face gained many colors at different spots, thanks to all the emotions stressing through her flesh. "A-At least one of them doesn't lack manners in full."

"Manners?" Hundred interfered, looking at her with a questioning gaze. "Are you saying what you're doing is an elven custom?"

Mulyk was startled a bit. "Of course not, but they're doing nasty things in my clinic! How can I stay calm?"

Hundred adjusted his shirt collar a bit. "You can just learn from me."

Mulyk almost choked on her breath. "Someone who's almost wet their pants from seeing a revolver is now getting ahead of themselves."

Hundred's nerves twitched, but he didn't say anything.

Meanwhile, in a certain room on the twentieth deck.

A doctor checked the pulse of a dark-skinned woman lying on the bed and then looked at the cross-eyed dark brown-skinned kid who was standing right beside him. "I'm sorry, kid. She's long gone."

The kid's crying only intensified upon hearing those words.

Soon after the doctor came out of the room, he spoke to a man in a green uniform who was waiting outside. "Some sort of sickness got her. The previous healer has been doctoring a dead horse as if it were alive and emptied their purses. It's an untimely death, but a natural one nonetheless." Saying that he left.

The man in the green uniform then marched into the room. "You have three hours to cry before the body gets taken to the morgue," he spoke to the kid, "but if you can pay for the ice, you can keep it for a few more hours."

The kid, who had been grinding his teeth, now screamed. "It's not a body! She's my mom!"

A second of silence passed, and the air in the room only grew cold.

"Right," the man casually said and began to walk out. "I take it that you have three hours to cry for your mom."

The kid clenched his fists while tears overflowed out of his eyes. Even though rage ran rampant through his blood, and serrated tingles of tantrum snaked up his spine, he didn't know what to do with all the hurt that kept sucking away the fire of his soul like a winter wind. He turned back and reached the bed and shook his mother's hand for more than a minute, but there was no response. His mother had once told him of a myth that one shouldn't give a handshake to the dead, or they'd come alive. However, that clearly didn't seem to be the case. A myth was a myth, after all, he thought. He then lay his head on his mother's belly and just watched her.

All that ran through his mind, at the moment, were the last words she spoke some hours ago: Consider any loss as a chance to see the bigger picture standing in your way.

Though his seven-year-old brain couldn't comprehend the meaning behind those words even now, let alone back then, he somewhat made sense of those words in his own way now and then continued to stare at her unsmiling face with somber eyes. Not counting the smile, she looked just like she did every day, maybe a shade paler, but the weighty change he was faintly forced to notice was that he could no longer feel her warmth, and the coldness of her skin persevered in hardening his heart. Still, his hands didn't let go of her and soaked in her absent presence. After all, he knew that once he let go of her, he would no longer meet his mother in the regular rhythms of everyday living. As time unaffectedly moved on, a funereal gloom pervaded not only the room but also a heart in entirety.

....

[1] Just to clarify, when Lirzod said that 'since hair can grow on your head,' he meant that 'since you aren't born with a bald head.'