His memory after being shot was fragmented, like a broken reel of film playing in slow motion.
Flashes of blinding red and blue lights danced in his vision. Distant voices—urgent, overlapping—were muffled, as though coming from underwater. The sharp sting of cold metal pressed against his skin. Then, silence. Darkness.
When Kai woke up, it felt like emerging from a deep, heavy fog. The first thing he noticed was the smell—sharp and sterile, the unmistakable scent of antiseptics. The faint, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor echoed in the quiet room. His eyelids felt glued shut, his body weighted down by an invisible force.
His throat was dry, like he'd swallowed sandpaper. He tried to speak, his voice a raw whisper.
"...wa...ter." The word barely escaped his lips, lost in the emptiness around him.
Kai clenched his teeth and tried again, forcing the word out louder. His chest ached with the effort, and his throat burned, but still, no one came. Frustration welled up inside him as he attempted to lift his arm, only to find it leaden and unresponsive.
The door creaked open, and Kai heard soft footsteps approaching. A woman's voice, warm and relieved, broke the silence. "You're awake!"
Kai struggled to focus on her face as she leaned over him. Her light blonde hair was tied into a loose ponytail, and her honey-brown eyes reflected a mix of concern and relief. She had a kind, heart-shaped face with kind, concerned eyes. She looked like she belonged in a movie, he thought absently, not in the harsh fluorescent light of a hospital room.
"...water," he croaked again, the word barely audible.
"Hold on," she said gently, quickly stepping out of the room. She returned moments later with a cup of water, carefully guiding it to his lips. Kai drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing the fire in his throat.
When he finally pulled back, he rasped, "Where... am I?"
"You're at LA Medical Center," the nurse said, her tone calm but tinged with sadness. "You were shot during a robbery. According to the police, you saved an elderly man's life."
Kai blinked, the memories rushing back in fragments—the masked men, the gunshot, the old man's terrified face. His chest tightened, but he forced himself to focus.
"The bullet?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Her expression turned grim but steady. "It was a severe injury," she said softly. "The bullet caused significant damage, and the doctors had to perform emergency surgery to save you. You lost a lot of blood." She hesitated for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully. "You're lucky to be alive."
Kai let out a bitter laugh—or tried to. What escaped his lips was more of a strained cough, and the sharp ache that followed made him wince. The nurse instinctively moved to help him, but he shook his head weakly.
"Lucky?" he muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I'm alive, sure. But I feel broken. And the bills from this place will kill me faster than the bullet did."
The nurse hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. She fidgeted with the edge of her clipboard, the corners of her mouth tightening as though she wanted to say something but couldn't.
"I... I'll give you some space," she said softly. "The doctors will want to check on you soon."
Kai watched her leave, her footsteps fading into the hallway. Alone once more, he stared at the ceiling, the sterile white tiles blurring as his eyes burned with unshed tears.
Was this what his life had come to? Fighting to survive, only to wake up to more struggles?
He closed his eyes, his thoughts swirling in an endless loop of despair and bitterness. The steady beeping of the heart monitor offered no solace, a constant reminder of his fragile existence.