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Atheer and Albert burst into the room without warning.
"What was that scream, man?"
I pointed at Niyar's foot sticking out from beneath the bed.
"Pull him out, Atheer. This idiot is crazy—I actually stepped on his foot!"
Atheer bent down beside the bed, then tilted his head to look underneath it. He ran a finger across the floor before exclaiming,
"How is it possible for the space under his bed to be this clean?!"
"Lower your voice, he's asleep. I brought you here to get him out from under the bed, not to evaluate how clean his room is."
Atheer grabbed Niyar by the arm and leg and pulled him out.
"You idiot! Is that how you drag someone? He's not a doll you can yank around like that."
"Doesn't that amaze you, Aster?"
"Nah. You two keep arguing; I'm going back to my room. Call me when lunch is ready."
Albert left the room and headed back to his own.
I pulled the blanket back over the bed while Atheer carefully lifted Niyar into his arms and gently laid him on the mattress.
"Doesn't his hair covering his eyes bother him? I don't remember ever seeing him tie it back."
I covered him with the blanket, closed the curtains, then pulled Atheer out of the room with me, shutting the door behind us.
"So... who's making lunch today?"
"It's Niyar's turn, but I don't think we'll wait until sunset just to have lunch."
"I don't get why he even bothers cooking for us when he doesn't eat with us in the first place."
"And what's wrong with that, Atheer? Let him do whatever makes him comfortable."
"He seems more like a spoiled heir than a military student. Seriously, who his age keeps a teddy bear close by? He looks like someone who grew up sheltered."
I walked into the kitchen and started taking out the ingredients.
"You know, from my point of view, he doesn't seem sheltered. Maybe you don't know this, but... if he really had been a sheltered child, he'd probably have grown up outgoing like me."
Atheer set a glass on the table before filling it with ice.
"That's hardly a rule. I'm outgoing, and I was never spoiled!"
"It shows from your name, Atheer... Besides, that's simply his way of expressing affection. Pass me the cilantro from the fridge."
A look of discomfort spread across Atheer's face. You might think it was because of what I'd said, but...
"Cilantro? Don't tell me you're putting that in the food."
"Yes? Are you really going to refuse to eat just because I'm adding cilantro?"
"Yes, I am. It tastes awful!"
I washed the cilantro, dried it, and deliberately chopped a generous amount of it—naturally, just to provoke Atheer.
"Stop whining like a child and don't be so picky!"
"I'm not whining! How can you possibly like its flavor? It tastes like cleaning detergent!"
"Impressive. So you've tasted cleaning detergent before?"
"I'm going back to my room. I don't want lunch anymore."
He said that as he stomped upstairs, still grumbling.
I raised my voice after him.
"For your information, there's never been a single day I've cooked without putting cilantro in the food."
It might have seemed from Atheer's relentless complaining that he had made up his mind not to eat lunch. Ironically, however, the moment I knocked on his door, he was more than ready to eat. And even if he had refused, I would have dragged him out of his room to eat with us.
On my way back to the kitchen, I knocked on Albert's door, which was right next to Atheer's. Albert came out, swaying as usual, yet the exhaustion etched across his face spoke volumes about how hard he had been studying. The entrance examinations were drawing near.
The three of us sat down to eat. A few minutes passed before we heard footsteps. Niyar was coming downstairs, absentmindedly running a hand through his messy hair.
"Good evening. Did you sleep well?"
"Good evening... sort of."
He returned the greeting in a hoarse voice, the result of sleeping for so many hours. Then, without even looking at us, he added while opening the kitchen cabinets,
"Does anyone want coffee after lunch?"
"Could you make double the amount? I'd like to take some back to my room."
Albert said this while idly moving the food around on his plate, as though he had little appetite.
"Shouldn't you eat something before coffee, Niyar?"
"I don't feel like eating."
Niyar began making the coffee, staggering slightly from one side to the other. The kettle in his hand seemed as though it could slip from his grasp at any moment. Atheer stood up, gently took it from him, then pointed toward the sofa.
"Sit down, idiot, and leave the rest to me."
Niyar dropped onto the sofa with noticeable heaviness. For the first time since I'd known him, he sat there without either a phone or a book in his hands.
I got up to clear the dishes after Albert had finished eating. By the time I had loaded them into the dishwasher, Atheer had already placed large coffee mugs on the table. Of course they weren't ordinary coffee cups—the coffee addicts in this house would never be satisfied with those.
The four of us sat together. I secretly hoped we would finally have a proper conversation, but Albert remained inseparable from his books.
"Won't you put that book down for once, Al? Even Niyar has abandoned his books for now."
"Do you know the acceptance rate for the entrance exam, Atheer? I don't have time for chatting. Work hard first, rest later."
"And do you think what you're doing is reasonable? At this rate, all that studying is going to make you mix up the sciences! If the heart goes blind, it dies. Besides, the exam is still months away—maybe even half a year."
"You too, Aster?"
"What you're doing is sheer madness. Even the bookworm sitting here stops studying and reading every now and then."
I said it while pointing at Niyar, who had finished his coffee and leaned his head back to rest.
"I always feel like nothing I study actually stays in my head. So how am I supposed to put the book down when that's the case?"
Niyar suddenly muttered, cutting off the conversation.
"How many parts does the axial skeleton have, and how many bones are there?"
Albert answered without the slightest hesitation.
"Six parts, and eighty bones. Twenty-two of them belong to the skull, which protects the brain."
"Look at yourself. You answered without hesitating, as if that were common knowledge everyone knows."
Niyar said as he rose from his seat. Then he added indifferently,
"You're nothing more than a high school student. Your medical knowledge right now isn't important. What matters is knowing the fundamentals. Once you begin the journey, that's when you need to work hard... Good night."
Good night?
"You're going back to sleep again?"
Niyar paused halfway up the stairs. The effortless way he climbed them never failed to amaze me.
"Don't wake me until tomorrow. I'm longing for sleep."
He spoke in his usual emotionless tone, ending the conversation there. Then he continued upstairs, returned to his room, and closed the door behind him.
The hands of the clock aligned, announcing the beginning of a new day. At the same moment, the rain began pouring heavily.
After everyone had retired to their rooms, I turned off the lights and made sure every window was securely locked. Thunder rumbled across the sky, followed by flashes of lightning. Ah... how I adore winter; I have always been devoted to it.
I entered my room and closed the door behind me. I straightened my bed, plugged in my phone to charge, and lay down, lost in thought. Before long, drowsiness overtook me.
Then I jolted upright.
A noise.
It had come from nearby.
I turned toward its source.
Niyar's room.
Careful not to wake Atheer or Al, I quietly got to my feet and opened my door as silently as I could, only to find the hallway seemingly left open for a ghost to wander through.
Of course, there was no ghost.
But this had become something familiar.
What I hadn't expected was that the "ghost" had already passed my room before my ears had even caught the sound of his footsteps. Stranger still, tonight was different from all the nights before.
Thinking he was awake rather than sleepwalking or wandering in a daze, I switched on the hallway light.
What I saw...
was nothing like I had expected.
Naturally, I wasn't talking about an actual ghost or some hallucination.
The person I meant was, without question, Niyar.
This wasn't the first time.
Nor the twentieth.
It had been happening for nearly a month and a half.
But tonight was different.
Every previous time, he had never gone beyond the doorway. He would simply stand there, motionless, devoid of awareness.
This time...
he had crossed the threshold.
And there wasn't the slightest trace of consciousness in him.
What was even worse was when I looked at the face hidden behind his blood-red hair.
At that moment, I saw something I had never imagined I would witness—not now, nor ever.
His eyes.
They were swollen... and red.
Or perhaps they were darkened by exhaustion.
Did it even matter, when they overflowed with silent tears?
His cheeks were streaked with quiet tears, so strangely calm that anyone who saw them without hearing him cry might have mistaken them for something fabricated.
Eyes consumed by grief.
For a fleeting moment, I felt as though I myself were drowning inside them, desperately searching for life.
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I realized there was only one... perhaps two... steps separating him from the staircase.
If only I had noticed sooner.
I didn't realize it until he had already stepped down.
His injured foot gave way beneath him.
He stumbled.
And falling down the stairs was no longer a possibility—
It was inevitable.
In that instant, I wished someone else would wake up and catch him if I failed.
But I didn't grasp what was happening until it was already too late.
Without thinking, I threw myself forward and caught him, wrapping my own body around his to absorb the impact of the fall.
My attempt wasn't perfect.
Perfection belongs to God alone.
We crashed onto the floor with tremendous force, the impact echoing throughout the house.
The doors upstairs flew open in alarm at the deafening noise.
When it was over, I lay there helpless, Niyar sprawled on top of me.
Despite being injured in the fall, he never regained consciousness.
Instead...
he sank into an even deeper sleep.
Atheer rushed downstairs. Without asking a single question, he carefully lifted Niyar off me, shock evident on his face.
Albert followed close behind and helped me to my feet.
Fortunately, I wasn't hurt.
Should I be grateful for my sturdy build...
or for all the training I'd done with Atheer?
Unlike me, however, Niyar had suffered for it.
A fresh wound now marked his forehead.
And it was obvious that the injuries to his foot and wrist had grown worse.
Atheer carried Niyar into his room and gently laid him back on the bed.
Should we wake him...
or simply wait for him to wake on his own?