"Why did you start serializing again?" Yazhikui sat on the nursing chair beside the hospital bed, picking up the manuscript and slowly flipping through it. Her eyes followed the pages carefully, as though analyzing every stroke.
"Yazhikui, you're not going to become my fan, are you?" Shirakawa Natsu said with a smile. When he first produced the manuscript for Reaper, Yazhikui had remarked that only Chuan Er—or rather, Natsu—would like it.
"I'm reviewing the manuscript," Yazhikui said seriously. Judging by her expression, one could easily believe her words.
Shirakawa Natsu studied her face, trying to mimic that same calm, cold, and ruthless expression, while carefully reading the manga in the second stage of her mouth—well, more like trying to appear indifferent. As long as he didn't feel embarrassed, it didn't matter if someone else did.
Yazhikui spent a full fifteen minutes flipping through the sixty-three pages, not closing it until she reached the last one. She flattened the manuscript with care and slipped it into the envelope meant for storing drawings.
Finally, she turned to Natsu. "I want to talk to you about what I entrusted yesterday."
Shirakawa Natsu knew immediately—she was referring to the task of investigating Hashimoto Arina. Just hearing the words made a warm, intoxicating feeling coil inside him, sticky and alluring, yet tinged with that delicious ache of anticipation.
"It's not that I didn't study after I got home last night," Yazhikui said generously, though it didn't sound like a big deal. "Why do you want to get involved with Hashimoto Arina?"
Shirakawa Natsu hesitated, knowing he couldn't say it was because of the app. He needed a reason, at least to fool her for now.
"At first, I thought it was because that woman's gentleness gave you unrealistic fantasies."
Before he could speak, Yazhikui cut in with her own sharp insight:
"But after thinking about it carefully last night… I don't think that's it."
Leaning forward with a serious expression, she locked eyes with him. "You're not the type of guy who accepts other women lightly once you've developed feelings. So what's your reason?"
"Do you think I have a compulsion for mental purity?" Shirakawa Natsu laughed. He hadn't expected his childhood friend to be so perceptive, able to detect the truth from the smallest clues.
A lie would need countless layers to cover it up, and Yazhikui's gaze carried an invisible weight. His face stayed calm, but his heart raced, scrambling to find a plausible excuse.
"If you don't want to say, forget it," Yazhikui suddenly sat upright, releasing the pressure she'd applied. "Sometimes a man just wants to do something, and he doesn't need a reason."
"I want a serious relationship with her," Shirakawa Natsu said. Even without the app, Arina Hashimoto's strength, gentleness, understanding, her playful mischief on dates, and the vulnerable side that made people want to protect her—all of it drew him in.
"I'll continue to help you investigate her," Yazhikui said, picking up the manuscript. Then, seriously, she added: "But you need to be prepared. That woman isn't as pure and flawless as she seems."
Shirakawa Natsu frowned. Arina had been intense during their date yesterday, and he had noticed.
"Why do you say that? You just started investigating yesterday—how could you know so quickly?"
"The director of this hospital has a nineteen-year-old daughter studying at Tokyo Medical College," Yazhikui replied.
"Does she have anything to do with Hashimoto Arina?" Natsu's mind started spinning with the plotlines of a seven o'clock ethical drama.
"No." Yazhikui shrugged. "I met her last night. She told me some rumors about Arina Hashimoto, but most were false. Still, there's no smoke without fire. I'll tell you what's true once I confirm it."
After speaking, Yazhikui stood, waved at him gracefully, and left.
Natsu stared after her, feeling a tangle of worries he didn't know where to release. The app had picked the wrong host—if it appeared on Yazhikui's phone, it would surely flare up. As for the rumors about Arina, he didn't care. Real life wasn't a Korean drama—misunderstandings didn't automatically lead to breakups and reconciliations. Mature adults quietly observe the truth before drawing conclusions.
With Yazhikui's abilities, it wasn't surprising she might eventually tell him about all the handsome doctors or young nurses wandering through the hospital.
"Don't waste precious energy on meaningless things," Shirakawa Natsu muttered to himself. He picked up his brush, got comfortable on the hospital bed, and began drawing swiftly.
Though illness brought him pain, it also granted him endurance beyond ordinary people. Accepting the pain strengthened his focus, allowing him to enter a state of flow. The sketches beneath his pen were like portals to another world, letting readers peek into something beyond the ordinary. Many legendary authors had completed masterpieces while suffering from illness—it wasn't unreasonable.
He drew until evening, when the setting sun cast a red veil across the sky, only to be interrupted by a phone call from Yazhikui, who had collected his drawings.
"A fan briefing? Because it took so long, you want to open a press conference to apologize?" Shirakawa Natsu said confidently.
"I can handle the update—why apologize? Don't go, I refuse. If I have the ability, I won't let them publish it!"
He hung up, only to hear a soft chuckle.
It was Arina Hashimoto, wearing her doctor's uniform and holding a bento box, standing beside the bed. She had come in while he was on the phone, listening to the entire conversation.
Tapping him on the head, she scolded, "Really! It's clearly your fault, yet you talk so confidently. Apologize to your fans!"
"I don't have fans," Shirakawa Natsu shrugged. "They're all trolls anyway. Manga readers are easy to please—they care more about the story than waiting. As long as it's exciting, they'll still pay and call me an old thief."
Arina rolled her eyes but smiled, handing over the bento box. "Here, lunch."
"Wait—is this Sister Cai's love bento?" Natsu's eyes lit up, placing the box on the bedside table. "Sister Youcai is too versatile. Could she be the perfect heroine? Beautiful, talented at work, and skilled at housework?"
"Slick tongue," Arina teased, patting his head. "Eat quickly. We still have time to go for a walk outside tonight."
"Yes!" Natsu, tired of the hospital's summer food, felt a thrill opening this 'blind box' of a meal. Slowly opening the bento, he grinned at the dishes, closing and reopening it in delight.
"Don't just look—eat!" Arina's cheeks flushed slightly. "It's nutritious, balanced, and designed to meet dietary needs."
"I've received Sister Youcai's wishes," Natsu said, picking up his chopsticks and digging in.
Arina watched from the corner of her eye, subtly gauging his reaction.
"I'm full," Natsu said happily, putting down his chopsticks.
"How was it? Did it suit your appetite?" Arina asked softly, still not daring to meet his gaze.
He organized his words carefully and praised her with tact: "It melts in the mouth, light and healthy. Everything blends together—perfect even for picky eaters."
"Puchi…" Arina laughed, covering her mouth, pretending to scold him. But her smile betrayed her happiness.
She packed up the empty bento and walked out of the ward with him. It was evening, and patients who could walk were strolling about. They walked side by side, keeping a polite distance. Though technically, a doctor doesn't escort patients like this—normally a nurse would—but no one suspected anything.
A sunny, mature female doctor and a thin, fragile boy—there was nothing untoward. Natsu, though 178 cm tall, looked small and frail after being bedridden so long.
Along the way, Arina greeted patients and families warmly, raising her hand to wave at an elderly man.
"Sister Youcai, watch your step!" Natsu suddenly called out, noticing a stone under her heel.
Distracted by her greetings, she hadn't noticed. Too late—her high heel slipped on the stone, and she began to fall backward.
Natsu reacted instantly. Shouting, he stepped behind her and caught her firmly.
"Ah!" Arina gasped as she leaned against his strong arms. Natsu staggered slightly but adjusted, planting his right foot and holding her safely. The soft fragrance of her body surrounded him, and pressing down her coat, he felt the delicate weakness beneath her strong exterior.
Time seemed to pause—only they understood the sensation.
Arina quickly regained her footing, adjusting her uniform. "Natsu… you're unexpectedly reassuring."
"Of course—I'm a man," he said, raising his arms proudly.
Arina, normally 1.7 meters tall and in high heels with her white coat flared open, looked imposing—but in his arms, she was slender, uniquely feminine.
She smiled, about to speak, when a little nurse ran up beside her.
"Doctor Youcai! There's a handsome man with long hair waiting for you at the hospital gate!"