The doctors kept Masha in an artificial coma for a few days. Her injuries were too severe, especially the ones to her legs. They did their best, but they couldn't do much as her knees were damaged beyond repair. The teenage girl would have to walk with crutches for the rest of her life, if not stay in a wheelchair most of the time.
When the attending doctor announced the prognosis, Alexey was still out of it, looking like a lost child. Even after learning that his daughter was now disabled, he didn't react much, only nodding quietly. Gabriel also appeared as calm as ever, sitting beside the man, but under the table, his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
Unlike Gabriel, Misha wasn't discreet and directly vented his anger on the wall, punching it with enough strength to leave a hole in it.
It startled the doctor to sit up straight. Although it wasn't rare for a family member to react violently after learning such news, he didn't expect the little boy to be the one to destroy the wall of his office. He couldn't help but eye the child with a bit of surprise and uneasiness. However, Misha couldn't care less about the doctor's emotional state. Or the throbbing pain in his wrist.
Why? Why did his sister have to go through so much suffering…? He should have been the one lying in that bed, not her!
Masha didn't deserve that kind of fate. She didn't deserve any of this.
"Don't bite your lips," Gabriel whispered, wiping the bead of blood off the boy's lips with his thumb. "Ok?"
The child didn't give him a clear answer, avoiding his hand, but his teeth eventually let go of his lower lip. He was well aware that hurting himself wouldn't change anything. Still, it made him feel better, distracting his mind from the piercing pain in his heart.
.
.
When Masha woke up, her memories were a little foggy, and she had to take a few minutes to organize her thoughts. Then, slowly, she remembered what had happened, and her already pale face grew even paler.
Gripping the sheet, she looked around the room once, then twice, and thrice. Her father, her little brother, and Gabriel sat next to her bed, but her mother was nowhere in sight.
Eventually, Masha opened her mouth, and, ignoring her family's words of concern, she directly asked where her mother was. She didn't inquire about her legs' injuries, almost not paying them any heed despite their apparent sorrowful state. Right now, all she wanted to know was where her mother was.
No one present in the room found the strength to tell her the truth, but the dark expression on their faces was enough of an answer. There was no need to voice it out.
"I see…" Masha whispered, a tremble in her voice.
The teenager refused to let the tears freely fall down her cheeks in her family's presence, and they glittered at the corner of her eyes like lonely little stars.
"You know…" Misha said softly, stretching a hand to hold hers. "I won't tell you not to blame yourself."
Because he knew it was impossible not to.
"But I want you to know that I'm proud to be our mother's son. She saved the life of my most beloved sister, and for this, I'll be forever grateful."
The boy's voice broke a little, and he took a deep breath before standing up on his tiptoes and kissing his sister's cheek.
"I hope you'll get better soon, it's lonely without you at home. I even miss bickering with you." Misha paused to smile in a sad yet kind way. "I love you, sis'."
His last words seemed to crack the dam, and a flood of tears soon surged, ravaging his sister's face.
Masha wrapped her arms around her brother's small shoulders and dragged him into her bed, burying her head in the crook of his neck.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she wailed, "If only I didn't cross the road, if only I…."
Misha hugged her back, silently listening to her grievances. There was nothing he could say because nothing would make her feel better. Therefore, he said nothing and lent her a shoulder to lean on, staying by her side until she fell asleep, exhausted from crying her eyes out.
Staring at his sister's puffy, reddened eyes, Misha felt like his world was falling apart. Before today, he had never seen her so devastated. She had always hidden her suffering beneath a bright smile, and he didn't notice until it was too late.
Perhaps now more than ever, Misha realized that his sister was but a mere human, frail and breakable.
Gently, he ran his fingers in her hair, thinking about how they had yet to tell her about Gulnas's funeral service, which had been held two days ago. Masha had to be hospitalized for a while, but Mrs. Brown's corpse couldn't wait for so long.
Not only was their mother dead, but his sister couldn't even attend the burial. How would she react after learning this? Misha didn't want to think about it.
Burying a loved one was hard, but it helped mourn them. His sister had been deprived of that right, while Misha had buried his mother twice.
In a way, it wasn't fair, yet it also was.
The funeral service had been as painful as the first time, maybe even more. Now, Misha wasn't a clueless child and could understand what was going on.
With clear eyes, he could see things he hadn't noticed the first time. For instance, he saw his father hide in a corner, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Despite burying his head in his hands, he couldn't conceal his sobs.
Although Alexey had been an awful father after his mother's death in their past life, the boy couldn't stand the sight of him slowly breaking down, drowning in grief and sorrows.
Misha clenched his fists, his nails digging bloody crescents in his palms. He told himself that he should hate him with all of his heart and that he shouldn't care about him. So what if he was crying? It had nothing to do with him. He should just ignore him.
But in the end, he couldn't.
Alexey was still his father, a father who had basked him in love these past few months. His way of showing affection was awkward and discreet, but it didn't mean Misha didn't feel it. He also wasn't stubborn enough to turn a blind eye to it.
Once upon a time, that man adored his children, then tragedy struck him, and he lost himself in alcohol. Misha had a feeling that if the current Alexey knew what he could become, he'd never dare touch a bottle of liquor.
On the day of his mother's funeral, Misha made a decision. He failed to save his mother, but it wouldn't be the case with his father. He wouldn't let him turn into a monster, not this time.
With this purpose in mind, Misha went to his father's side. He took his hand in his, and, ignoring the churning in his stomach, he quietly led him to the bench in the front row of the church. Although he was sweating profusely and trembling, he never let go of his father's hand throughout the burial.
As the ceremony went on, Misha looked around. He saw the pain and sadness on his relatives' faces become more pronounced, leaving him lost for words.
These were the same relatives who never showed up at his mother's grave, not even on the first anniversary of her death. He had always thought they were heartless, but maybe they had only been quick to heal.
Perhaps, Misha was the weird one, unable to move on. And because of this, he couldn't resist the temptation and went back in time, trying to change his family's destiny.
But everything he did only resulted in more pain and tears, and fate seemed to be laughing at him, mocking his futile efforts from high above. For the first time since his transmigration, he felt helpless and powerless, unable to help but resent and curse Santa Claus.
__________________________
Chapter revised on 2022-05-24
Edited by Clozed! ♥
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