The hospital wing was silent, a heavy, sterile quiet that felt like a physical weight against Keifer's chest. This wasn't the public ward; this was the private, high-security floor of the Watson Medical Center, where the hallways were carpeted to dampen the sound of footsteps and the air was filtered to a surgical purity. But despite the luxury, the smell was the same—the biting scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of fear.
In the center of the darkened suite, Jayjay lay motionless. She looked smaller than he had ever seen her. The hospital gown was a dull, faded blue that washed out her skin, making her look like a porcelain doll that had been dropped and painstakingly glued back together. An IV line snaked out from under the tape on her hand, delivering a steady drip of fluids and antibiotics into her system.
Keifer sat in the high-backed leather chair beside the bed. He hadn't moved in six hours. He was still wearing the dress shirt from the night before, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the collar unbuttoned. His glasses sat forgotten on the bedside table. Without them, his eyes looked raw—a dark, turbulent gold filled with a mixture of self-loathing and protective fury.
The Internal Reckoning
Every time the heart monitor emitted its soft, rhythmic beep, it felt like a hammer blow to Keifer's skull. 102.9 degrees. The number was etched into his brain. The doctor had called it "physical and mental collapse precipitated by extreme stress and sleep deprivation."
But Keifer had a different name for it. He called it his failure.
He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he touched the back of her hand. Her skin was still too hot, a dry, unnatural heat that radiated through his palm.
"I did this," he whispered, his voice a low, jagged rasp in the silence of the room. "I let you think that you had to be me to be with me."
He closed his eyes, and the memories of the last few months flashed behind his eyelids like a horror reel. He remembered the way she had looked at him in the library—with a mixture of adoration and desperation. He remembered the way her hand had shaken while she reached for her coffee. He remembered the silence. He had been so proud of her discipline, so impressed by her drive, that he had ignored the fact that she was burning her own life force as fuel.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cold metal railing of the bed. "Wake up, Jay. Wake up and scream at me. Throw something. Tell me you hate the Watsons and their ranks. Just don't stay this quiet."
The Section E Intrusion
At 10:00 AM, the heavy double doors of the suite creaked open. Keifer didn't look up. He didn't need to. He knew the frantic, uneven footsteps of Mica and the heavy, hesitant stride of Calix.
"Oh my God," Mica gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She was carrying a bouquet of sunflowers that looked absurdly bright in the dim room. "She looks like... Keifer, what happened? The school said she just collapsed, but the rumors are saying she had a stroke."
"She didn't have a stroke," Keifer said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. He finally looked at them, and both Mica and Calix took a subconscious step back. Keifer looked like a man who had been through a war and lost. "She pushed herself until her body gave out. She's been sneaking into the library at night for weeks."
Calix slumped into a chair against the wall, his usual boisterous energy gone. "We saw it, Keifer. We all saw it. She was obsessed with that 1.9%. We tried to tell her to eat, but she just kept saying she had to 'close the gap.'"
"The gap is closed," Keifer snapped, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp anger. "I'm withdrawing her from the final pre-boards. I don't care about the ranking."
"She'll hate that," Mica whispered, placing the flowers in a vase on the windowsill. "You know Jayjay. If she wakes up and finds out she's 'Incomplete' on the boards, it'll hurt her more than the fever did."
Keifer looked back at Jayjay. Her eyelids flickered, a tiny movement that made his heart leap into his throat. "Then she can hate me. As long as she's alive to do it."
The Breaking of the Fever
The afternoon passed in a blur of medical checks and silent vigils. The sun moved across the room, casting long, orange bars of light over the bedsheets.
Around 4:00 PM, Jayjay began to moan. It was a low, pained sound that made Keifer stand up instantly. He leaned over her, his hand smoothing the hair away from her forehead.
"Jay? Jay, can you hear me?"
Her eyes opened slowly. They were glassy and unfocused, the pupils dilated. She looked at him, but for a terrifying second, he didn't think she recognized him.
"The... the supply curves..." she mumbled, her voice thick and raspy. "I didn't finish the third chapter... the elasticity..."
"Forget the curves, Jayjay," Keifer whispered, his voice breaking. "It's over. You're in the hospital."
She blinked, the fog slowly lifting. She looked around the room—the IV, the monitors, the flowers. Then her gaze settled on Keifer. She saw his disheveled hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the way he was clutching her hand as if his life depended on it.
"Keifer?"
"I'm here."
"I... I failed, didn't I? I didn't make it to the end of the session."
Keifer let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into a careful, trembling hug, mindful of the IV line. "You didn't fail anyone but me, Jay. I'm the one who let this happen. I'm the one who didn't see you breaking."
Jayjay leaned her head against his shoulder, her body finally beginning to cool as the fever broke. The sweat was cold now, and she felt a profound, bone-deep exhaustion that made even breathing feel like a chore.
"I just wanted to be enough," she whispered into his shirt.
Keifer pulled back, his hands cupping her face. He looked at her with an intensity that was almost frightening. "Listen to me, Jayjay Mariano. You are the only person who has ever stood toe-to-toe with me. You are enough if you never read another book in your life. You are enough if you fail every exam from here to graduation. If you ever—ever—hide your pain from me again to protect my pride, I will walk away from every rank I have. Do you understand?"
Jayjay nodded weakly, a single tear tracking through the salt and sweat on her cheek.
The Aftermath
The rest of the evening was spent in a slow, quiet recovery. Keifer refused to let the nurses feed her; he did it himself, blowing on the spoonfuls of broth with a meticulous care that felt like a penance.
He stayed with her until she fell into a deep, natural sleep. But he didn't go back to his chair. He climbed into the oversized hospital bed beside her, pulling the thin blankets over both of them. He held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head, his heart finally slowing down to match hers.
Outside, the storm had passed, leaving the city of Manila dripping and quiet. In the halls of the school, the rankings for the mock exams were being printed, and the name Jayjay Mariano was sitting at the very top of the second tier. But in this room, none of that mattered.
The Lion had found his Queen again, and he had realized that a crown was a heavy thing to wear alone.