Drip, drip, drip! Drip, drip, drip!
The piercing alarm, like an electric drill, rudely bored into Serie's consciousness, which was immersed in the Witch's Den.
"Ugh…" A muffled groan, filled with sleepiness and irritation, escaped from under her bandages.
She instinctively reached out her arm, swatting in the direction she remembered, wanting to swat away the annoying alarm clock like a fly that disturbed her sweet dreams.
Then—
Serie still seemed unaccustomed to her new room.
Her swat hit nothing but air.
Serie couldn't help but feel frustrated; her clones were capable of soaring through the sky and burrowing through the earth, each more formidable than the last, but looking at her own delicate body, setting aside the growth of her mental power, she was utterly weak and pitiful.
Even her eyesight had been temporarily taken away.
"Ah…" A barely audible sigh, tinged with self-mockery, came from under the bandages.
She could only pray that this damned injury would heal quickly.
She reached out again, unwilling to give up, cautiously fumbling forward, guided by a vague memory and the source of the sound.
Her fingertips first brushed against the cool surface of the bedside table, and then…
They touched a… hand?!
Serie flinched in fright, her balance instantly shifting!
She cried out, her entire body uncontrollably toppling off the edge of the bed!
Her hand grasped futilely in the air, only catching a corner of the bedsheet, but this could not prevent her fall.
The anticipated pain of intimate contact with the cold floor did not come.
A pair of soft arms steadily supported her falling body.
At the same time, the alarm clock that had tormented her for so long stopped abruptly, as if its neck had been squeezed.
The room instantly fell into a sudden silence.
Only Serie's slightly hurried breathing was exceptionally clear.
"Who?!" Serie was still shaken, her body under the bandages instantly stiffening.
"Who else could it be?" A clear yet slightly muddled female voice rang out, like a sparrow that had accidentally flown into a window in the morning, full of artless vitality, "Of course, it's Yuki-sama's arrival~"
It was Yuki!
Dr. Lynette had indeed mentioned that Yuki would be taking care of her during this time.
The laboratory was short-staffed; other students were either too busy, or like Jared, seemed to be the only one Yuki was somewhat reliable.
Serie relaxed considerably, but was then replaced by immense doubt: "When… when did you come in?!"
She hadn't heard any movement at all! Was this person a cat?
"Just now," Yuki's voice carried a matter-of-fact tone: "As soon as I came in, I saw you flailing on the bed, wrestling with the alarm clock…"
As she spoke, she carefully helped Serie sit back in the center of the bed, ensuring she was stable.
Serie felt her cheeks burning up.
How embarrassing! Her clumsy struggles had been watched the entire time!
But luckily it was Yuki… if Claudia had been here…
"Alright, there's class today." Yuki's voice was light, "You can't be like me and often be late."
As she spoke, she turned and walked towards the wardrobe, and the rustling sound of clothes being rummaged through could be heard.
Soon, Yuki came back.
Serie felt the mattress dip slightly as Yuki sat down beside her.
A fresh scent of soap, unique to Yuki, mixed with the cool morning air, drew near.
"Raise your hand." Yuki's voice was very close.
Serie subconsciously and obediently raised one arm.
She could feel Yuki's fingers deftly finding the cuff of her pajamas, and the slightly cool fingertips occasionally brushed against the sensitive skin on the inside of her arm, causing a subtle shiver.
The soft pajamas were gently removed, and her exposed skin immediately broke out in tiny goosebumps.
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