ROSES HAVE THORNS

"Hik...*Sob*... dammit... *Sob*.. s-so.. stupid.. Hik *Sniff* *Sob*..."

Kurt stood perfectly motionless in the shadow of the privacy wall, as he watched the once confident star of the Rivertonian representatives break down in tears.

’.... I feel sorry for the kid, I really do. But at the end of the day, she’s not my problem. Whatever is going on with you, Nichole Firestar, I hope you feel better soon.’

He slowly turned back, making no sound against the tile, as he prepared to exit the room and continue his escape.

Swish

The sudden sound of metal rings sliding sharply against a copper rod echoed through the dim room. The curtains had been aggressively yanked aside, casting light in the dark.

SLAM!

Right as Kurt reached the handle of the door, the echoing crash of the window frame being violently forced open cut through the quiet room next. A panicking wave of anxiety shot straight through his chest.

’Damn it, she’s not about to do something rash, is she?!’

Abandoning all thoughts of a stealthy exit, Kurt spun around on his heel and sprinted past the privacy wall. Nichole was standing right at the edge of the windowsill with her heavily wrapped fingers gripping the wooden panel tightly as fresh tears streamed down the visible patches of her face.

Before she could even process his movement, Kurt’s right-hand shot, firmly clamping around her bandaged forearm and violently pulling her back away from the ledge.

"OW! H-HEY!" Nichole shrieked in startled terror as her bandaged frame stumbled backward into his chest. "What the hell are you doing?! Let go of me!"

"I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What the hell do you think you’re doing standing right at the edge of a fifth-story drop? You definitely don’t look fit to survive it."

Nichole twisted her arm and ripped herself free from his grip with an insulted glare. She stumbled back toward the edge of her bed and collapsed onto the mattress as she pointed an angry finger at the open glass.

"I was just opening the damn window because this room was getting stuffy! I can barely breathe under all this fucking wrap! What’s wrong with you?!"

"... Really? Oh. Right. Well... I apologise for jumping to conclusions then."

"Who even are you anyway? You’re definitely not my assigned doctor."

Kurt smoothly adjusted the lapels of his white coat, slipping effortlessly back into his authoritative guise.

"Your assigned doctor is currently on a rest break. Seeing as I’m still new here, sent me up to do a quick check on you. And frankly, based on what I walked into, it’s a good thing he did."

"I told you, I wasn’t going to jump," Nichole muttered darkly. "I’m a Firestar. We don’t take the easy way out."

"Fair enough. But that still doesn’t explain the waterworks. Why exactly are you crying like the world’s ending?"

Nichole let out a bitter-pained laugh, her bandaged fingers tightly gripping the bed sheets beneath her.

"Oh, I don’t know, Doctor. Maybe it’s because all of my friends – the same people who used to look up to me as their leader – are now looking at me with pity. They probably thought they hid it well, but I saw it...

"Or maybe it’s because I’m currently stuck in a foreign hospital looking like a crippled mummy.

"Or hey, maybe it’s the fact that I talked a big game about destroying our competition, only to let my entire nation down when it mattered most, and the humiliation is killing me inside! Go on, take a guess, Doctor. Decide. Is it option A, B, or C?"

"... All of the above."

"Ding, ding, ding! Looks like the doctor isn’t an absolute moron after all. What do you want, a prize?"

Ignoring her defensive sarcasm, Kurt folded his arms over his chest. "Regarding option B. If you don’t like being here, why don’t you just get the Saintess to lick your wounds and move on? I hear she’s pretty good at that kind of thing."

"Ha. With what coin, exactly?"

"What do you mean, with what coin? Didn’t your academy cover the costs? But even then, surely a noble house like yours can afford the oh so divine fee. Right, Firestar?"

Nichole dropped her expression into disdain as she side-eyed him. "I take it completely back. You really are a moron."

"Hey. Watch the attitude. I’m just stating the obvious. I mean, since you got a surname and all that jazz, you guys are a noble family, aren’t you? Just get your family to cough up the coin for the Saintess."

"... Can’t."

"And why not?"

Nichole’s chin trembled slightly as she looked out the open window toward the distant horizon. "Family circumstances. That’s all you need to know."

"Ahh... Right. "Family circumstances". Yeah... I definitely happen to know a thing or two about how absolute garbage those can be. What about your academy? Can’t they pay?"

"They already spent most of the allocated budget into getting me to "this" hospital on "this" floor where Eldoria’s best medical staff operate."

"Huh. You called yourself a crippled mummy but you’re walking just fine. Heck, after that Myrian swordswoman blasted you through that tree and protective barrier, I’m surprised you’re still conscious."

Nichole’s brow furrowed in deep confusion as she stared at him. "What kind of a doctor are you? Haven’t you checked my charts or whatever it is you use? You should know the severity of my condition."

"Like I said, I’m new here. It’s my first day on the job, y’know?"

"Based on your performance... it’s probably going to be your last day, too."

"Hahaha! True, girl. You’re probably right about that, ahahaha!"

"... Heh."

The sound of his unburdened laughter seemed to cut through the misery of the room, resulting in a small, yet genuine, smile to lightly break through Nichole’s bandaged face. She leaned back against the pillows, her sigh turning weary.

"My mana veins are fried from overexertion. The baseline recovery rate is slow. Too slow. Doc told me it’s going to take at least a full year of bed rest before I can even think about channeling a spark of flame again."

She looked down at her wrapped palms, her voice cracking. "Are you kidding me? A whole year... That’s the worst thing that could possibly happen. Just sitting around while everyone else runs past me... I feel so... useless."

"......"

"......"

"I watched your tournament matches yesterday. Your fatal four way and final triple threat."

Nichole’s ears subtly twitched, her head lifting slightly.

"And while it’s true that I could easily predict the outcome of the final fight from the moment the match was announced, I won’t lie, just that fiery spirit alone you displayed out there... it got a small part of me to root for you."

"Only a small part?"

"Well, yeah. I happen to know Izumi Ayako personally, so I was obviously rooting for her to win. But you definitely made her sweat for it. That’s really impressive."

Nichole looked down at her lap as a strange, comforting warmth spread through her chest at the man’s words. "Thanks for the partial support, I guess... Doctor."

"Sure. You’re welcome," Kurt grinned beneath the mask. "In any case, seeing as your mood is better now and you’re not planning on skydiving out the window... I gotta bounce. Duties call."

He gave her a short nod and turned around toward the door. But just as his frame was about to disappear from view behind the wall, Kurt paused. He slowly turned his head back over his shoulder and looked at her with an eye of sincerity.

"Don’t put yourself down so much, Nichole. The show you put on out there yesterday was definitely something you should be profoundly proud of. I highly doubt anyone in your academy or your nation is going to fault you for that loss. Hell... Izumi-san said it herself, didn’t she?"

Nichole’s eyes widened as the memory of Ayako readying her sword for the final blow flashed through her mind.

"You fought with incredible honor, Nichole Firestar. Let it be known across all of Myria... that you have earned my undisputed respect. Until our paths cross next time."

A fresh tear welled up in her eye, trailing down the edge of her bandage.

"Once you fully recover in a year’s time, all the pain and the humiliation you’re dragging yourself through right now... it’s all going to feel like nothing more than a bad dream. So for now... just persevere. Keep your chin up. And hey... who knows? Maybe a miracle will happen, and you’ll find yourself recovering much sooner than you think."

"... Huh? Wait! What do you mean by–"

But before the question could fully leave her mouth, the space the mysterious doctor stood at was empty.

Nichole sat alone in the quiet, sunlit room, the afternoon breeze gently fluttering against the white curtains. She stared at the empty space for a long, quiet minute. Then, a small and grateful smile touched her lips as she wiped her eyes.

"What a total moron... But... thank you, Doctor."

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