The Fading Moon Chapter 11: The Hospital Window

Read chapter 11 of The Fading Moon by MananTayal on NovelPedia.

Mike had never run so fast in his life. The moment Jessika's mother called, everything else disappeared. Work. Deadlines. Responsibilities. Nothing mattered. Only Jessika. The city blurred around him as he rushed through crowded streets. Train stations. Traffic lights. People. Everything became background noise. His heart pounded violently inside his chest. Every terrible possibility raced through his mind. By the time he reached the hospital, he was breathing heavily. The large white building towered above him. Cold. Silent. Terrifying. Mike hated hospitals. Not because of the building itself. Because hospitals reminded people how fragile life really was. And today he wasn't ready to face that reality. Not when it involved Jessika. Inside, the atmosphere felt unnaturally quiet. Nurses moved through hallways. Doctors spoke in low voices. Machines beeped softly in distant rooms. Everything smelled sterile. Clean. Lifeless. Mike quickly found Jessika's mother waiting near an elevator. The woman looked exhausted. Far older than when he had last seen her. Dark circles rested beneath her eyes. And for the first time, Mike realized something. She had been carrying this burden much longer than he had. Much longer. The moment she saw him, she smiled weakly. "Thank you for coming." Mike immediately asked: "How is she?" The woman looked away. That alone terrified him. After several seconds, she answered. "Stable." Stable. The word should have sounded reassuring. Instead, it sounded frightening. Because people only used "stable" when things weren't okay. Mike swallowed. "Can I see her?" Jessika's mother nodded. "Room 704." The elevator ride felt endless. Each floor seemed to take forever. His heartbeat grew louder. His palms felt cold. For the first time in months, fear completely overwhelmed him. Not fear for himself. Fear of loss. The greatest fear of all. Finally, the elevator doors opened. The hallway stretched ahead. Room 704 waited at the far end. Mike slowly walked toward it. Every step felt heavier than the last. Then he reached the door. And stopped. Suddenly he wasn't sure he could do it. Because opening that door meant facing reality. A reality he desperately wanted to avoid. Yet after several seconds, he took a breath. And entered. Jessika was asleep. The sight hit him harder than he expected. Much harder. She looked smaller somehow. Fragile. A hospital blanket covered her. Several medical devices sat nearby. Their quiet beeping filled the room. The cheerful girl who had dragged him across Tokyo. The girl who laughed at everything. The girl who never stopped smiling. Now looked vulnerable. Painfully vulnerable. Mike slowly approached. Then sat beside the bed. For several moments he simply watched her. The room remained silent. Only the sound of machines disturbed the stillness. Eventually he reached out. And gently took her hand. It felt warm. Thankfully warm. A small relief. But not enough. Not nearly enough. An hour passed. Then another. Night gradually covered the city outside. Yet Mike remained there. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. Around midnight, Jessika finally stirred. Her eyes opened slowly. For several moments she looked confused. Then she noticed him. And smiled. A weak smile. But still a smile. "Hey." Mike immediately felt tears threatening to appear. He hated that. Especially because she was the one in the hospital. Not him. "You scared me." Jessika blinked. Then laughed softly. "I'm sorry." "Stop apologizing." "Sorry." Mike groaned. Jessika smiled slightly. Somehow she still found ways to annoy him. Even now. For a while neither spoke. The moonlight entered through the hospital window. Painting soft silver patterns across the room. Eventually Jessika turned her head. Looking toward the city lights. "It's pretty." Mike followed her gaze. Tokyo stretched endlessly beyond the glass. Beautiful. Alive. Unaware. "Yeah." Silence returned. Then Jessika asked: "Were you worried?" Mike stared at her. The question was ridiculo