Morning Talk

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of the clinic room, casting warm stripes of light across the floor and bed. Vial lay motionless on the mattress, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His expression was peaceful, lashes resting gently against his cheeks.

There was a soft knock at the door.

The female bodyguard looked up but didn't interfere when a woman in a clinic uniform stepped in, carrying a breakfast tray.

"I'm here to deliver food," she said calmly. The bodyguard gave her a short nod and stepped aside.

The woman entered quietly, her steps soft against the floor. Her eyes fell on Vial's sleeping form. For a moment, she stood still, tray in her hands, gaze slowly drifting over his features.

He looked different in sleep — softer, more vulnerable. His breathing was steady, lips parted ever so slightly, hair slightly tousled. She hadn't noticed how striking he was yesterday, not when everything was clinical and rushed. But now, in the quiet of the morning, she found herself drawn in.

Curiosity tugged at her. She stepped a little closer.

Why was his data missing? Why did the system respond to him like that?

She found herself staring — not out of professionalism, but something else. Something she didn't want to name.

Then, he moved. A subtle twitch of his fingers, then a shift in his breathing. His eyelids fluttered.

She quickly turned around, cheeks burning, ears red.

"Oh—you're awake," she said, trying to sound casual as she cleared her throat. "I, uh… brought breakfast. Thought you might be hungry."

Vial blinked, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "...Thanks."

She turned and set the tray down beside him, managing a small smile. "I'm Shia. Health technician. I helped process your registration yesterday — well, I tried to."

He blinked, his brain still catching up. "Right… the missing data issue."

She nodded. "Still unresolved, by the way. You're breaking clinic records just by existing."

He gave a short laugh. "That's not even the strangest part of my week."

"You'll probably want to rest up then," she said. "You're required to stay here for a few more days anyway — part of the extended registration and health scan process. Full integration takes time."

Vial raised an eyebrow. "A few days?"

Shia shrugged. "Yeah. Normally it's a few hours, but your case is… special."

Vial exhaled through his nose. "Lucky me."

"Think of it as free food and a bed," she said with a teasing smirk.

He gave her a half-smile, then dug into the meal slowly. "Well… could be worse."

Shia leaned against the wall, arms loosely crossed. "Honestly, I'm glad you're not freaking out. Most people panic when they're told they have to stay longer than expected."

"I've learned to stop being surprised," he said. "And you're making it less miserable."

Her eyes widened just slightly — but she caught herself. "I'll pretend that was a compliment."

He chuckled softly. "It was."

Before she could reply, the door opened again. Rael stepped in, her expression composed but alert.

"Vial," she said, giving him a curt nod. "You'll need to remain in the facility for a few more days."

"I've already been informed," Vial replied, glancing at Shia.

Rael shook her head. "I know Shia already mentioned the extended stay. But this is something else—your case was escalated."

"The higher-ups want to meet you in person."

Vial blinked. "Higher-ups?"

"They'll arrive in a couple of days," Rael continued. "Until then, consider this a temporary hold. You'll be monitored, but with some freedom to move around within the facility."

Shia raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

Vial sighed, leaning back. "So I'm meeting the big bosses."

Rael gave him a firm look. "Yes. And they don't usually meet anyone, but you're not just anyone."

She turned to leave. "Rest. You'll need it."

As the door closed behind her, a quiet tension hung in the air.

Vial looked at Shia. "So… still think this is a normal registration?"

Shia tilted her head. "You're officially the most interesting patient I've ever met."

Moments passed. Vial finished the last bite of his food, then looked at the tray thoughtfully.

Shia stepped forward to take it. "I'll get this out of the way."

Vial glanced at the door, then back at her. "Mind if I come with you?"

She blinked, surprised. "You… want to walk around?"

"Better than staying cooped up. Besides," he said with a faint smile, "you seem like decent company."

Her mouth parted slightly, caught off guard — then she let out a quiet laugh. "Alright. But your bodyguards might be less thrilled."

As if on cue, the two stationed women silently fell into step behind them when they left the room. Vial didn't even glance back.

Shia led the way through the quiet corridor, Vial casually walking beside her. The clink of utensils in the tray was the only sound for a moment — until whispers started.

Every woman they passed turned their heads. Some did double takes. Some stared openly. A few flushed and looked away.

Shia noticed, and the grin she tried to suppress slipped through.

"Is this what walking with a celebrity feels like?" she asked, glancing at him sideways.

Vial chuckled under his breath. "That bad, huh?"

"They're probably trying to decide if I'm your nurse or your girlfriend," she said playfully.

He raised an eyebrow. "And which one would you prefer they assume?"

Her eyes glinted. "Wouldn't you like to know."

They both laughed — quietly, but genuinely.

The tension from earlier had thinned, replaced by a strange comfort.

Shia glanced at him once more as they turned a corner. 'What are you really?' she wondered, but didn't ask.

For now, she was content to walk beside him — and for now, that was enough.

They walked in silence for a while longer, the soft hum of overhead lights and distant chatter from other clinic rooms filling the air. Occasionally, Vial would glance at a poster or screen along the wall—health guides, facility rules, looping videos about proper diet and sleep. It all looked routine, ordinary. But he felt anything but.

Shia slowed her pace as they neared a service door leading to the cafeteria's back end. "This is where I drop off trays," she said, motioning to the entrance. "Not the most exciting tour, I know."

Vial shrugged. "Still better than lying in bed wondering what kind of test they'll run next."

She gave him a look—half sympathy, half amusement. "If it helps, I doubt they even know what to test for. You're basically a glitch in the system."

Vial smirked. "Great. I'm a walking software bug."

They both paused as a pair of nurses exited the nearby hallway. One of them caught sight of Vial and fumbled her clipboard. The other nudged her, whispering something, eyes wide.

Shia exhaled a breath that might've been a laugh. "Yup. Total celebrity treatment."

Vial leaned closer slightly, voice low. "Think I should sign autographs?"

"Maybe later," she said, matching his tone. "Once the 'higher-ups' decide you're not radioactive."

He chuckled again, this time with less tension. "You're easy to talk to."

Shia looked at him, startled by the sincerity in his voice. "Thanks. That's… actually nice to hear."

They stood there a moment longer than necessary, not quite moving. Not quite saying anything either.

Then, finally, Shia stepped back. "Come on. Let's return before someone assumes we're plotting something."

Vial nodded, but didn't move right away. He looked back down the hallway they'd come from, expression thoughtful.

"…This place is strange," he murmured.

Shia followed his gaze. "Strange how?"

He hesitated. "Everything feels familiar, but not. Like I'm living in a dream I forgot I had."

Her expression softened. "Maybe it's not a dream. Maybe it's just… the beginning."

Vial looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Maybe."

And together, under the soft glow of artificial ceiling lights and surrounded by whispers neither of them acknowledged, they turned and walked back toward whatever waited next.