I can’t die. Not permanently anyway.

It was something I’d learnt on more than one occasion. Yet at that moment, I didn’t feel all that dead yet but also not quite alive. Then again, I was never entirely sure what either was supposed to feel like.

“Don’t you feel cold out here?”

Whose voice was that?

Everything appeared as a blur—a dense fog of vague shapes and dark colors. I narrowed my eyes, trying to focus and gain any sort of clarity, but all I could make out was an odd outline of a figure moving next to me.

It was a man, one I didn't recognize but at the same time felt nearly familiar. Too familiar, almost strangely so, like we'd already met a thousand times before. He looked down at me, his deep blue eyes wearing a shrouded look I couldn't quite understand.

He slid his coat off before draping it over my shoulders like a blanket. He was so casual about it and yet so gentle in a way completely foreign to me. His fingers brushed my shirt, the heat of skin lingering for only a moment before he quickly pulled back. He remained silent as he took a seat beside me on the porch with about an arm's distance between us. It wasn't much, but enough to tell me it was deliberate.

“You’ll get cold,” I said, the words spewing out of my mouth without my consent.

What on earth…

“I’ll be fine.”

I tried to move, but my body wouldn't budge. I wanted to ask this man who he was and where we were, but my lips refused to even open. All I could do was be a conscious prisoner in my own body, unable to move a single limb and sit alone in the cold with this man with only the moon in our company. It offered a faint glow of moonlight that illuminated our surroundings, revealing the towering trees that lined the property and extending into a deep forest that appeared more like a dense void.

I glanced over at the man. He didn’t appear that old, probably no older than most of the soldiers I’d met, but he seemed tired. His hair was a dark shade that edged on a gray tint under the moonlight. It gave him the impression of being older than I suspected he was.

“Did those memories come back again?” he asked, his voice low but calm. My gaze unwillingly fell to the ground, resting on the soil beneath my shoes.

“Does it matter if they did?”

“Well, you only come out here when something’s bothering you.”

Even though I’d only just met him, he spoke to me as if he knew me better than any stranger should.

“And you can read me that easily?”

“It’s not hard to read someone after a while.”

A few seconds of silence washed over us as my body refused to respond. His gaze was fixed upward, flickering between the stars and constellations above us. There was a quiet mellowness in those eyes, a weariness I again couldn’t understand.

“It doesn’t matter if they came back. I don’t need those memories, nor do I care for them.”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “If they don’t matter, then why do they bother you so much?”

“They don’t.”

“It seems like they do.”

“You’re bothering me more than they are right now,” I snapped. He grew quiet, his eyes still on me but now a more solemn look. A feeling of guilt unwillingly surged in my chest as my fists clenched. “I apologize, I didn't— I didn't mean—"

"I know and it's all right. I'm aware you hate people worrying about you," he said, offering a small smile as his eyes softened. No one had ever looked at me like that. “But I can’t help it when it comes to you.”

My fingers tightened over his coat, pulling it closer to me. “You might get sick if you stay outside."

“Then come back inside with me. I’m not going to leave you alone out here.”

Alone.

Just who was this man to say such a thing to me? As if being alone was something I had to worry about. To be abandoned and yet expected to return like an obedient dog was a routine. No one ever had a reason to promise me otherwise, and in all honesty, his words were almost insulting. And regardless of what this body of mine said, I didn’t believe a thing that came out of his mouth. It was just words after all.

And yet, there was a certain sincerity in his tone, a conviction so unfamiliar to me. This heavy feeling rose in my chest—a compulsion that urged me to believe his plain words. It was as though my body and thoughts were disconnected, entirely unsynchronised and acting in opposition.

Without saying another word, he stood and his eyes lingered on me expectantly. There was something striking about them. Those eyes resembled the endless expanse of the sea; a vision of waves crashing against each other in a flurry. But they also held a steadiness to them, offering a quiet comfort. It was paradoxical, but in a way that compelled me even closer to them.

I watched as he turned back around to face the front door to the house, his footsteps echoing against the wooden floorboards like a thumping headache. I wanted to follow. I wanted an answer on who exactly he was. But, I remained paralyzed in my place.

Wait.

I tried calling out to him, to tell him to stop, but the words were stuck in my throat. He just kept walking further away as my vision began to obscure again.

Don’t go.

But he still left, fading further away and out of my grasp.

—

“So? How is she?”

There was a faint chatter in the room, a noise that gradually stirred me awake. My body ached and every muscle throbbed underneath my skin. My eyelids were also heavy, twitching as I struggled to open them.

What was that just now? A dream was the only feasible explanation I could think of. And yet, it felt like more than just a dream. It was too vivid, too real. And that man…

Since when did I start fantasizing about random men in my sleep?

“She recovered rather swiftly as you thought she would. A bit malnourished, but otherwise as healthy as anyone else her age.”

Where the hell was I?

My eyes flickered across the room and the first thing I noticed was a warm, golden light filtering through the curtains. Although actually, it was closer to a blinding beam that made me wince from how bright it was. The second thing was the rather sterile interior with barren walls painted a dull white.

“That’s a relief to hear. And no one else knows about this, correct?”

“Yes, sir. I was the only nurse attending to her so no one else is aware of her… condition.”

I could make out two distinct yet unfamiliar voices nearby, a man and a woman’s. My vision was still foggy with vague shapes blurring into one. But even with my muscles still feeling strained, I managed to slowly wiggle my toes. My legs were back.

I clenched the bedsheets underneath me, trying to ignore that dull yet persistent ache, as I attempted to stand. I gripped the edge of the nearby bedside table, using it for support as I tried to steady myself.

Again my vision wavered and all I could make out were some bandages and a pair of scissors resting on the table. But just as I was about to take a step forward, my head was hit with a wave of dizziness as I felt myself draw closer to the ground. A loud bang echoed through the room as I collapsed onto the ground and my body collided with the bedside table.

“Woah, careful there!”

I immediately flinched as a figure rushed toward me. Without hesitating, I instinctively grabbed those scissors. My muscles felt weak and my fingers shook as I gripped them hard, barely having the strength to hold up my hand.

That man who was just about to come over froze in place. His eyes darted cautiously down toward my hands as I held the scissors out in front of me, almost daring him to come closer to see what would happen.

“Easy now, how about you put that down?” he asked, his voice low but cautious. He kept a watchful eye on me before taking a single step forward, but that only made me tighten my grip. I glared at him, my jaw hardening, as I ignored the pain of the scissor’s sharp handle digging into my palm.

I quickly looked him up and down. He wore a simple brown vest—perhaps a few shades darker than his hair—over a muted but clean shirt. It was relaxed and clearly not a military uniform. My eyes then flickered to the woman next to him—she was wearing a nurse's uniform—before they again shifted toward the door behind them. It was the only exit to the room.

I then glanced at the window. It appeared we were several stories above ground level. While I considered it, I wasn’t confident I'd be able to break through it, jump out, and then run in my current condition. My jaw clenched as I tried to suppress the beating chest that grew more rapid with every second. I again glanced between the pair in front of me, noting the lack of firearms visibly on them.

I reversed my grip on the scissors, about to try and stand again with every intention of forcing my way out of the situation when he suddenly raised his voice, giving a stern command.

“Put that down now, soldier!” he ordered, his voice rising as an authoritative tone took over. It was one I was far too familiar with.

And I wasn’t ever allowed to disobey an order.