Eternally Yours

2. At last

Hana's fingers trembled slightly as she peeled off the last of the rubber gloves, their wet powdery scent lingering in the air.

She let out a long, weary sigh, watching the sun dip below the horizon through the hospital's sliding glass doors.

"Good job today, Hana," she whispered to herself.

As Hana shuffled towards the exit, the weight of fatigue seemed to drag at her heels. Her shoulder bag bounced against her hip with each step, its contents evidence to the day's trials: medical manuals dog-eared with colored papers sticking out of the side, a water bottle half-filled, and the comforting bulk of her lunchbox, now empty.

She was just steps away from the cool evening air when her phone buzzed in the pocket of her scrubs.

"Guess who?" came the vibrant chirp from the other end.

"Hey, Mira," Hana replied, her tone warm.

"You better not be heading straight home," Mira's voice burst through the line, vibrant and irrepressible as ever.

"Mira, I'm—" Hana began.

"No 'buts', Miss First-Day-Survivor! We're going to celebrate. Your favorite ramen awaits!"

Hana could practically see Mira's grin. Despite the day's toll, the corners of Hana's lips twitched upwards.

"Are you sure? I mean, I am pretty exhausted," Hana protested.

"Exactly! All the more reason to refuel with some good food and company. C'mon, Hana, don't make me drag you there," Mira cajoled, and Hana could imagine the playful wag of her finger, bangles chiming along her wrist.

A reluctant smile tugged at Hana's lips, "Alright, alright. You win," she conceded, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "But let's make it quick, okay?"

"That's the spirit! I just have to recheck these artworks in the inventory. So, I'll see you in... ten?"

"See you in ten," Hana confirmed. She ended the call and stepped outside, where the evening greeted her with a gentle breeze.

Steam billowed around them as they settled into the narrow wooden booth, their knees nearly touching in the cozy confines of the ramen shop. Honeyed tea eyes observed the bustling environment, her fingers nervously twirling the sleek ends of her dark hair.

Mira's laughter cut through the noise, as she gestured animatedly across the table.

"Okay, spill it," Mira demanded, her voice as vibrant as her curly hair, which tonight shimmered with hues of azure blue. "How was day one on the battlefield of bandages and bedpans? ".

Hana exhaled slowly, the weight of her silver necklace charm feeling heavier than usual against her chest. "It was... overwhelming," she admitted. "But I made it through without too much trouble."

Mira leaned forward, her gold hoops catching the light, a symphony of bangles chiming with her movement. "I knew you'd crush it!" she said, her enthusiasm bordering on fervor. "You're gonna be the best nurse they've ever seen!"

The compliment, swirled in Hana's mind, stirring memories.

She was five again, lost in a memory sharp as the fluorescent lights above her hospital bed. The sterile smell of antiseptics mingled with the soft whimpers that echoed down the corridors. Hana, trapped in the past, felt the ghostly sensation of rubber gloves — similar to those she wore today — as they tried to soothe her quaking form. But every touch was an invasion, every question a demand she couldn't fulfil.

The walls had been a stark white, too bright against the tiny figure curled up on the bed. She had been so small then, her olive skin pallid under the fluorescent lights, her curls limp and lifeless. The room was silent except for the occasional beep of the heart monitor and the hushed footsteps of nurses outside the door.