Born To Heal You (MilkCiize)

BTHY - 5 🥛🎀

I held her in my arms, dearly, like it might be the last time. 

My patient... My dear patient. She started convulsing, sweating abnormally. Her skin was ice-cold, as cold as a corpse. It seemed like she wanted to cry but couldn't, like she wanted to scream but was restrained by her condition. Her breathing was erratic, and even the machine supporting her life seemed confused, unable to properly register her state. Her heart was beating so slowly that I felt as though I might die just from the thought of losing her. I kept talking to her, pleading with her to keep fighting, to not give up.

"Milk, I know you can hear me. I still want to be with you. You promised me you'd smile, that you'd wake up and show me your dazzling smile. I don't want anything from you except for you to live and be happy. Please, stay strong for me—for yourself. I've been fighting your battle too. I've never given up on you, so don't you dare give up on your own life!"
I kept talking, almost rambling, just to keep her present with me. I didn't care how I sounded; I just couldn't bear to lose her.

"Milk, if I ever meet you someday, I'm going to scold you. I'll tell you how many sleepless nights you gave me. I'll tell you how you made your doctor cry. Yes, you made your smart, pretty, genius doctor cry because you trusted people who did stupid things to your body, hoping they'd take care of you. If only you'd been kinder to them, maybe they'd have been kinder too, instead of planning this awful crime while you slept. Do you even know how handsome you are for a girl? I'd definitely tell you to your face if you were awake. You're really cool and good-looking. If only you were healthier—and maybe a little kinder—then everyone else would see how wonderful you are, just like I do, even after seeing the worst in you."

Suddenly, Milk stopped convulsing. I was about to grieve when I felt a tender hand lightly touch mine. I wasn't imagining it—Milk had gripped my hand, just a little. I quickly checked her vitals, and to my amazement, they were back to normal. Not only that, but she seemed to be improving. The rash on her skin was fading.

In my panic, I noticed the syringe the cruel doctor had left on the floor. I grabbed it, determined to examine its contents. I had to figure out what kind of medicine had been used—something that had somehow improved Milk's condition despite its terrifying side effects. I distinctly remembered it being an extremely high dosage, far more than a patient could typically handle. Yet, against all odds, it seemed to have helped her.

During the morning shift, the doctors were dismayed to find that Milk was still alive after their attempt to sabotage her health. They began plotting another tactic to get rid of her, planning to try again a week later after their failed attempt.

-----

Out of desperation, I sought help. Not from the authorities, but from an outlaw.

There was a pretty girl named Yoko who once fell in love with me. She had confidently confessed her feelings in public, but I rejected her just as publicly, without considering if I hurt her feelings. Despite this, she still admired my honesty. She accepted my rejection with grace, like a true gentlewoman. Later, I found out she had found her true match—someone just as fierce and lovely as her: Faye, the gang leader.

Never did I imagine I'd find myself standing in front of Yoko again, begging her for help. It felt like I was asking for a favor she didn't owe me, especially after I had hurt her so deeply back then.