There are moments when you ask yourself, Was that really the right decision?
This was one of them—after all, I was in the hospital.
You might be wondering how I ended up like this.
Did someone try to run me over, only for me to dodge in time?
Maybe I got into a fight defending a pretty girl?
Or perhaps I heroically jumped in front of a car to save someone?
…Or could it be that I was just stupid enough to fall down the stairs?
If you guessed the last one, congratulations—you get a hundred points.
But it wasn't exactly what you're imagining. More complicated… or maybe simpler.
Before I get into that, let me give you a quick rundown of what's happened from when I was six until now—not that there's much worth highlighting.
It had been several years since my sister was born. I was fifteen now. The years felt like they had skipped ahead in the blink of an eye, like a sudden scene cut in a movie.
I was in my final year of middle school, and in a few months I would be applying to Sobu High. If everything went according to plan, getting in shouldn't be a problem.
Having a past life gave me an edge in academics, but of course, if I didn't study on my own, that advantage would have vanished. Experience aside, the most important thing was the mindset I brought to studying. Knowing how valuable education truly was, I took it more seriously now. Sure, the workload next year would increase, but with what I knew, I was confident I could manage without stressing too much.
I wasn't the top student, but I stayed well above average, and keeping it that way in high school shouldn't have been an issue.
Another thing I had added to my school life was wearing contact lenses. At first, I resisted, but after an incident in my last year of elementary school, I realized it was better to avoid trouble with students who found my eye color amusing.
In anime, red eyes might look cool, but in real life they brought me nothing but problems. So, at school, my crimson eyes became brown—plain and ordinary. Who thought it was a good idea to give me such a sinister color anyway?
The good part was that ever since I started wearing them, my three years of middle school had been peaceful.
Outside of school, life had been good as well. I'd say I was a decent older brother… probably. Of course, there had been a few close calls—like almost confirming whether you really get sent to another world when you die—but overall, things had gone fine.
With that, I think I've covered the important parts, so let's return to my little "fall down the stairs."
It was actually easy to explain.
A certain someone thought it would be a brilliant idea to binge-read light novels instead of doing homework. Old habits die hard, right? So why not pick them up again? The problem was that by the time I finally finished my assignments, the sun had already risen.
Without thinking much, I took a shower to shake off the sleepiness, put on my uniform, had breakfast, and went to school.
I tried to sneak in a few naps during the day, but sitting in the front row didn't exactly help. By the afternoon, on my way home, I was climbing the stairs to my room when my brain decided to "power off" for a moment. I tripped on a step and fell.
Luckily, my cute little sister panicked at the sound of a human body tumbling down the stairs and called emergency services.
How do I know this? Did I awaken some kind of cognitive ability to watch my life from a third-person view?
I wish… No, my mom told me when she came to visit me in the hospital.
I should remember to get Rumi a gift.
The accident could have turned out much worse, but fortunately, I ended up only with bruises all over. It hurt like hell, but the doctor said I would be fine after a few days of rest. Having a strong, healthy body had really paid off.
Back to the present—tomorrow I would be discharged, but for now I could move around freely in the hospital. Staying in bed all day was boring.
If I could find a vending machine that sold Max Caffe, I'd consider myself lucky. I had always had a sweet tooth, and coffee that sweet felt like a gift from heaven. One day, I'd buy shares in that company.
Sure, too much sugar could be bad for me, but I doubted it would be a problem. I knew how to take care of myself.
Recalling that sweet, almost addictive taste, I left my hospital room and walked down the hallway in search of my favorite drink.
As I moved along, scanning the place, I noticed a girl with long brown hair who, from what I could hear, seemed to be crying. The safest choice would have been to ignore her, given where we were. She had probably lost someone close to her. Problems were best avoided.
So, I decided to keep walking. Luckily for me, I found a vending machine selling Max Caffe. To avoid coming back later, I grabbed two—one for when I returned to my room and another for later.
On my way back, I saw the same girl again. Her face was buried in her knees, so I couldn't see her expression.
After watching her for a few seconds, a strange sense of déjà vu hit me, bringing back memories of my younger sister in the exact same position during an incident some time ago.
You could say my big-brother instincts kicked in. Besides, seeing a girl looking that down wasn't something I could ignore—especially when it reminded me of Rumi.
But I wasn't her friend or her family to know her situation. Sometimes, people just wanted to be left alone, and being approached by a stranger for no reason only made it worse.
So, I walked over and left one of the cans I'd bought next to her.
I wasn't in any position to intervene. I didn't care about her, nor did I have any real connection to make this action meaningful—it just reminded me of my sister. Hypocritical on my part? Maybe.
I made sure to set the can down with enough noise for her to notice, and once I confirmed she did, I simply kept walking toward my room.
Something sweet could really help calm your emotions—or at least that's what I'd heard somewhere, though I couldn't remember where.
Without bothering to look back at her expression, I walked on, eager to enjoy my drink in peace.
…
"I think I shouldn't have given her the drink," I muttered, staring up at the ceiling.
A few hours had passed since I went out, and after receiving the hospital lunch—which wasn't nearly as bad as people say—I reached for my second drink on the table, only to remember I'd given it to that girl.
With nothing better to do, boredom was quick to set in. Staying in this room doing nothing got old fast.
If I didn't move my body, I wouldn't recover anyway, so I headed out again and walked straight to the vending machine. Luckily, my mom had left me some money when she visited.
Walking at my own pace through the halls, I didn't see the girl crying this time.
Maybe she came to terms with the fact that humans aren't immortal… or maybe it was something else entirely. I didn't have enough information to guess.
When I reached the vending machine, I bought two more drinks. I doubted I'd be unlucky enough to give one away again under some strange circumstance.
"Should I just head back to my room?"
I was feeling fine, and it's not like hospital rooms were entertaining.
With nothing better in mind, I started wandering around the hospital, hoping something might distract me.
But during my little adventure, I found nothing worth noting. Not that hospitals were built for entertainment anyway.
I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting, thinking a walk would be exciting.
I sighed inwardly at my own childishness. Maybe if I were still a kid, I'd find these things amusing.
Eventually, I reached the only place I hadn't visited yet—the rooftop.
At least the view should be decent.
After a short walk, I finally arrived.
Nothing special—just a large open space with a few benches and a safety fence to keep certain people from getting any dangerous ideas. More common than most people might think.
I approached the fence. The view wasn't bad, and the wind was strong up here. Not the best place to be this time of year, but better than being stuck between four walls.
I sat down on a bench, focusing on the sky.
"I've seen better, but I can't expect much in winter."
Mid-November—already winter.
With nothing better to do, I kept enjoying the "beautiful" view of the cloudy sky.
Tomorrow morning, I'd finally get to go home. I missed my novels—there were still so many I needed to read.
Who would've thought fantasy novels would be so abundant in bookstores…
Lost in thought, I heard footsteps and the rooftop door creak open.
A few seconds later, a girl with long brown hair stepped out and began walking across the rooftop.
"So cold." She muttered, hugging herself.
Like me, she walked over to the fence and looked around.
A quick thought flashed through my mind, but her expression wasn't nearly sad or troubled enough for that little hypothesis to become reality.
And if it were… would I stop her? I wasn't sure.
I kept watching her out of curiosity—there was nothing else to hold my attention.
As if sensing my not-so-subtle gaze, she turned and looked at me.
Our eyes met, and she started walking toward me.
I just hoped she wasn't the type to think being looked at was an insult—or worse, assume I was some kind of creep.
Once she reached me, she sat down beside me.
"Did you leave that drink next to me this morning… right?" she asked, sounding a bit unsure, her gaze shifting away as she spoke.
I glanced at the drink in my hand, remembering the girl who had been crying.
I hadn't recognized her—or maybe I'd just stopped thinking about it.
"I did," I replied without hesitation.
I had no reason to ignore her question or avoid answering. I didn't have anything better to do anyway, so if I could kill some time talking, I might as well.
"Thanks…" She gave me a slight bow.
"It's nothing," I said, waving it off.
I hadn't done it expecting anything in return—just because, as an older brother, I felt a certain déjà vu, that's all.
After that brief exchange, we fell into silence.
Unlike before, she now looked more serious, though her eyes were still a bit red from crying. And looking closer, I noticed their beautiful jade-green color.
"Don't stare at me so much… please." She murmured shyly, as if afraid I might try something.
Low self-esteem, huh.
Some things are easy to pick up on with just a few words—especially when you also consider facial expressions and those little involuntary gestures the body makes.
But that was just my guess.
"Can I ask you something?" she said, looking away.
"Sure."
"Why did you leave that drink next to me?" she asked with a touch of doubt, like she'd thought about it for a while but couldn't figure out the answer herself.
That was an easy question to answer—though I'd rather skip the part about feeling sorry for her.
"You reminded me of my little sister."
"I see…"
Was that a vague answer? Yeah, it was.
"Besides, if life is bitter, at least the coffee should be sweet," I added.
No matter how bad things get, maybe there's still a light in the darkness—or maybe not, and it just gets worse. A small twist on a common piece of advice, but more realistic—because after a terrible day, it really can go downhill further.
Pessimistic? No. Just realistic.
She looked at me with a complicated expression, as if she were trying to decide whether my reason was valid—or maybe I was just overthinking it.
"Now that you mention it, the coffee was really sweet…" Her voice carried a brighter tone this time.
"A taste only a few can appreciate."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I have no idea," I said, glancing up at the overcast sky.
I was pretty sure I'd heard that line somewhere, but couldn't recall where.
As if my words were the funniest thing—or maybe she just thought I was an idiot—she started laughing.
At least I had a knack for making people laugh. Not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Either way, her mood had lifted—or at least improved—since she'd looked so drained at the start.
Without saying much more, we sat in silence. Sometimes silence was better—not everything had to be said with words.
After a while, I decided it was time to head back. The wind still swept across the rooftop, and I'd rather avoid catching a cold. Unlikely, sure, but if I could avoid it, I would.
I stood up and stretched a bit.
Being up here had helped clear my head—and maybe cured my boredom for a while.
As I was getting ready to leave, I noticed her expression. It wasn't much different from before, except now she seemed like she wanted to say something… but didn't have the motivation to voice it.
I wasn't a mind reader. If she couldn't say it herself, she shouldn't expect others to guess. That might sound blunt, but that's how it is—everyone has to look out for themselves, and if you want to get something across, you need to be able to say it.
With nothing else to do, I started walking away. But before leaving, I turned back and tossed one of the cans I had with me.
"Catch!"
She reacted a bit late, fumbling clumsily before finally managing to grab it.
I wasn't a fortune teller, but I could guess what her expression was saying: Why?
"Maybe you'll need it later."
I didn't know her situation or what she was going through, but it couldn't be easy for someone like her. Hard things are even harder when you don't know how to face them—especially if you don't have the character to push through.
With those last words, I turned to leave.
"Thanks!"
Her voice carried after me, full of gratitude. I simply raised my hand in a casual wave as I walked away from the rooftop.
She was probably staying behind to think things over. Or maybe not. That was something only she would know.
As for me? I just wanted to go home…