Chapter 2: Motherly Affection

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"I brought you some soup," Mrs. Warner says, placing a thermos on the rolling table in front of me. "It should hopefully help to sooth your throat and" - she glances over her shoulder at the door - "it'll taste better than whatever they're serving here."

I smile, though wryly as she takes a seat in one of the chairs next to my bed. Honestly, at first, I wanted no more visitors. Seeing Juuzou and Abara had been enough for me, and my nerves were still fried after my breakdown, but hearing Mrs. Warner's voice ringing through the hall as the nurse announced her...well, it almost brought ease.

She glances around the room. "For a hospital, this is quite a nice room. Tad too bright for me, though." She looks at me, her wrinkled lips ever so slightly bowed. "Well, my dear, how are you feeling?"

That seems to be the popular question these days, not that I can blame anyone who asks. I fidget with my fingers, tracing the line of my IV. "I've been better."

Her eyes fill with a sense of knowing, though I'm sure she knows. In fact, I know she knows. Everyone knows. I've seen the story being reported on the news, though not out of want. When you're held up in a hospital all day, there's not much else to do. Whether I watch TV or scroll through social media, the story is always there.

'A three-year-old girl was taken from her H/P apartment in the early hours on July X, XXXX. The girl is named Rui L/N...'

That's what it always says. Always. No matter where I go, where I look, that's what I always see and hear. And the pain...is unbearable.

"I can only imagine," she swallows. There's a moment of silence, then she continues. "I'm sorry, Y/N...I'm sorry that no one came to help. When we realized something was happening..."

Her words fade, but I know what she's trying to say. I get it. I understand.

Throat still burning, I shake my head. "It's okay, Mrs. Warner. I...I'm relieved none of you got wrapped up in that situation. Everyone else is okay, right?"

She nods, "Yes, yes. The building was evacuated, and the police were called, but...well..." She reaches over, resting a warm palm over my hand, squeezing lightly. "We are so relieved you are okay. Thank God those investigators showed up when they did. If not for them...well, I dare not think about it."

Anna Betterman.

That's what would have most likely happened to me. I would have ended up like Anna Betterman. Killed and eaten by ghouls, left behind as nothing more than discarded remains. That's what I could have been. And I pray - God, I pray - that won't be...

"They'll find Rui," she continues. "They'll find her, Y/N. They'll find her and they'll bring her home. Safe and sound."

Safe and sound. That was how I used to describe it. Every time I saw Rui curled up in her bed...every time I heard her giggles ringing through the air...every time she cuddled against me. She was safe and sound. That was what I thought, anyway. I thought she was safe and sound.

But now, I know she wasn't safe. We never were.

I nod, "I know."

Do I, though? Do I know? Juuzou assured me that they'll find her. That he and Abara will bring her back, but how can I be so sure? How can he be sure? Is anything sure? I...I just don't know.

Mrs. Warner scans me, her eyes peering at me, her expression still twisted with pity. Or maybe it's guilt. I can't really tell, but I don't blame her. I don't blame any of them. All the people in the complex were scared, and rightfully so.

I shift my hand so that it is on top of hers, catching her attention. "I'm relieved that you're all okay."

This seems to take her aback, but before long, her expression melts into a warm smile, though faint.

It's grim. All of it - all of this - is. Even the dazzling sun and clear skies outside are grim, and she knows it. We both do. Being in this scenario with its bleakness outstretched in every direction I look is what keeps me holding my breath. Nothing is okay.

She clears her throat, adjusting her posture. "Not to change the subject so abruptly, but we still need to address the matters concerning your apartment."

I squeeze my eyes, not even wanting to imagine all the shattered glass and splintered wood littering the floors through my unit. "I'll clean it when I get discharged. Don't worry about it, Mrs. Warner."

I look at her just as she lifts a brow and shakes her head. "Oh, no. I wasn't implying that, Y/N. For God's sake, the last thing I want you to worry about is cleaning your apartment. I was going to say a couple of us plan to team up and clean up the mess, with your approval, that is."

"You don't need to do that."

"We insist."

"But -"

"Y/N," she says, her tone motherly, "please let us do this. The last thing you should be doing is pushing yourself."

It's almost comical to hear this little old lady say that. She's much shorter and frailer than me. Yet, her tone just now...

"It doesn't feel right," I sigh. "I feel guilty."

"Don't, then." She once again cups my hand. "See this as all of us redeeming ourselves for standing by."

There's a certain pleading in her eyes. A look I don't usually see in her.

Defeated, I smile, "Okay, but please be careful. There's broken glass and wood everywhere."

"I know." She pats my hand. "That's how you got all those lovely stitches in your foot. Luckily there'll be no long-term effects."

She's right. The night of the ambush, I managed to step on some of the broken glass, and in my adrenaline-stricken state, I ran with a few chunks embedded in the sole of my foot, further causing damage. But the doctor has already cleared that as a concern. His biggest worry now, as he's informed me, is my head and the possibility of any undetected internal bleeding. But with each roll over into a new day, the smaller those concerns become.

I sit back, trying to relax my aching muscles, fidgeting with the hem of my blanket. All this time, alongside my worry for...I've also been harboring another feeling. Guilt.

"I'm sorry that this all happened," I say.

Mrs. Warner knits her brows. "My dear, what are you apologizing for?"

"For the damages to the apartment. For worrying everyone. For everything."

She blinks, then a veil of sadness falls over her expression. "Oh, Y/N...don't do that, sweetie. What do you have to apologize for? For the actions of strangers? No. No, don't do that. None of this is your fault. None. Those men did what they did. You had no control."

Warm tears begin to prickle.

She notices and wipes them away in this motherly kind of way, continuing, "Don't you worry about that. You just focus on getting better and staying hopeful. Okay?"

I say nothing, but nod, sniffling. She smiles and stands, wrapping her arms around me in a maternal way that my mother never did. The warmth of her body swaddles me as the smell of her perfume fills my nose. And for a moment, I feel like a small child being comforted and protected by their mother.







**Ello, ello lovelies! So, no Juuzou, but a little scene with Mrs. Warner. Honestly, Mrs. Warner gives me a warm feeling whenever I write about her. She's just a sweet lady. Ugh. I woke up forty minutes late today (I'm typically up at 7:15 or earlier). Turns out I forgot to turn my alarm on. But it also doesn't help that today is rainy. That said, at least it's rain and not frozen rain or snow. Matter of fact, today (02/17/2022) should feel good. A nice 61 degrees. It's a tease, but it's nice to get a taste of spring while in winter. Wow. Sorry for rambling. Anyway, thank y'all so, so much for everything! Y'all are the bestest! Wuv yous!! <3**

-Noel Ross

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