Nani hirunkit
After that action-movie-level incident, life went quiet. Too quiet.
Sky didn't call. No mysterious black cars. No unexpected visits to the hospital. Nothing. For almost a month now, it's as if he and his world vanished into thin air. Part of me was relieved, grateful to slip back into my normal routine: hospital, home, hospital. But another part of me-one I hated to acknowledge-kept wondering.
Was he okay? Was his wound healing properly? Had his enemies come after him again?
It didn't make sense to care about a man like Sky. Someone so far removed from my world of sterile operating rooms and carefully constructed routines. But I did. Maybe it was the doctor in me, the part that couldn't help but check in on my patients, even the ones who probably didn't want to be checked on.
Still, with every passing day, I told myself the silence was a blessing. No Sky meant no chaos, no danger, and no further entanglement in whatever shadowy empire he ruled.
---
Today, though, I wasn't at the hospital for once. My brother Pond had finally twisted my arm enough to take a day off.
"It's been weeks, Nani," he'd said over the phone, his voice laced with brotherly exasperation. "You've been practically living at the hospital, and don't tell me you're fine. I miss my little brother. You're taking a day off, and that's final."
And when Pond said "final," he meant it. So here I was, sitting on a park bench, waiting for him. The late-morning sun was warm on my face, and the sounds of children playing and dogs barking filled the air. It was peaceful. Normal. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease sitting heavy in my chest.
A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision, subtle but enough to make me turn my head. Nothing. Just a man walking his dog across the field.
I shook my head, sighing. "You're being ridiculous," I muttered to myself.
"Nani! Sorry I'm late!"
I flinched at the sudden voice, but relief washed over me when I saw Pond jogging toward me, his usual easy grin in place. He looked every bit the charismatic older brother, tall and broad-shouldered, with the kind of confident swagger that seemed effortless. He pulled me into a bear hug, practically lifting me off the bench.
"Good to see you, little bro," he said, clapping me on the shoulder.
"You saw me two months ago," I replied, brushing imaginary dust off my jacket.
"Two months is basically a lifetime," he shot back, grinning. "You're always at that hospital. I was starting to think I'd have to fake a heart attack just to get you to take a day off."
"Please don't," I said, rolling my eyes. "I have enough patients as it is."
Pond laughed, but there was something in his eyes-a flicker of worry that he was trying to hide. He didn't push it, though, steering the conversation to lighter topics as we walked through the park.
---
We stopped for lunch at a small café, Pond ordering enough food for three people.
"You need to eat more," he said, shoving a plate of fries toward me. "You look like you're running on caffeine and pure stubbornness."
"I'm fine," I said, taking a sip of my coffee.
"You always say that," he muttered, his tone softening. "But you work too hard. You don't take care of yourself."
I gave him a look. "Says the guy who spends half his time pulling overtime shifts at the fire station."
"That's different," he said firmly, leaning back in his chair. "You're a surgeon. You're supposed to be smarter than me."
I rolled my eyes, but his words stayed with me. Pond had always been protective, even when we were kids. He was the one who'd chased off bullies on the playground, who'd taught me how to throw a punch even though I'd never used it. He liked to act like the tough big brother, but underneath it, I knew he worried about me more than he let on.
"So," he said, his tone shifting to something lighter but no less curious. "Tell me about this mystery guy."
My heart stopped. "What?"
"Oh, don't play dumb," he said, grinning. "One of the doctors at the hospital mentioned you've been... spending time with someone. He didn't give me details, but I figured I'd ask the source."
I groaned inwardly. Damn the hospital gossip mill. "Let me guess-Phuwin told you?" I muttered, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Pond shrugged. "Don't blame Phuwin. He was just repeating what he heard. So... who is he? Why didn't you tell me? Do I know him?"
"Pond, there's nothing to tell," I said quickly, brushing off his questions. "I'm not in a relationship. Whoever told you that was just exaggerating."
His eyebrows shot up, clearly unconvinced. "Exaggerating, huh? So there's no mystery guy at all?"
I hesitated, fumbling for a response. How could I possibly explain Sky? My boss? My... captor? My... what? There wasn't a single word that fit the strange, tangled connection between us. And even if there was, Pond was the last person I'd tell. If he knew anything about Sky, he'd lose his mind.
"We're just friends," I said finally, my voice sounding weaker than I wanted it to. "It's nothing serious."
He frowned, clearly not convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his expression softening. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?"
I nodded, feeling a pang of guilt twist in my chest.
---
By the time Pond drove me home, the sun had set, and my nerves were frayed from the subtle tension I couldn't shake.
As we pulled up to my apartment building, Pond glanced at me, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more serious. "You've been jumpy all day," he said quietly. "What's going on, Nani?"
"Nothing," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired, that's all."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. "Take care of yourself, okay? And if something's wrong... you tell me. Promise?"
"Promise," I said softly, my chest tightening.
I watched him drive away, the guilt sitting heavy in my stomach. Pond had always been there for me, always ready to protect me from whatever came my way. But this? This wasn't something I could drag him into.
---
Inside, the apartment was quiet, but the sense of unease only grew.
I locked the door behind me, my eyes scanning the room. Everything looked normal-just as I'd left it. But as I walked toward the kitchen, a chill ran down my spine.
The window.
The curtains were open.
I never left them open.
My breath hitched as I stepped closer, peering out into the darkness beyond. The street was quiet, empty except for the faint glow of a streetlight. But then I saw it-a car parked across the street. Its engine wasn't running, but the silhouette of someone in the driver's seat was unmistakable.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, the sound making me jump.
I fumbled to pull it out, the screen lighting up with the words I hadn't seen in weeks: Unknown Number.
For a moment, I just stared, my pulse racing. Then, with shaking fingers, I swiped to answer.
"Hello?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
There was a pause on the other end, just long enough to make me question if I'd imagined it. Then, a familiar voice spoke, low and smooth, with that unmistakable edge of authority.
"Doctor, I need you."
---