The first thing Mivan noticed when he opened his eyes was the smell.
Disinfectant.
That sharp, sterile smell filled the room and seemed to cling to everything—the white walls, the sheets, the curtains, even the air he breathed.
His stomach turned slightly.
For as long as he could remember, hospitals had made him feel sick before anyone even told him what was wrong.
He stared at the smooth white ceiling above him.
For a few seconds, he didn't remember where he was.
Then—
Beep... beep... beep...
The heart monitor beside his bed brought everything back.
Mivan slowly turned his head toward the machine.
"...Hospital again."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
He tried to move, but a dull heaviness settled across his chest.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
Outside the room, two people were speaking quietly.
His parents.
"Doctor said he's stable now," his father said.
His mother's voice was softer.
"He's only sixteen..."
There was a pause.
"Sixteen years old, and he's already spending so much time in hospitals."
Her voice trembled slightly.
His father sighed.
"He's been telling us about the pain since he was little."
"I know."
"We should have taken it more seriously."
His mother didn't answer immediately.
"When he was a child, he would keep saying, 'My heart hurts.' We thought he was scared. Sometimes he would say it after playing, sometimes before sleeping... We thought it would pass."
"I remember."
"And now look at him."
Her voice became quieter.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then his father said, "Don't talk like that in front of him."
"I won't."
A few seconds later, the door opened.
Both of them immediately changed their expressions.
His mother walked in with a gentle smile.
"Oh, you're awake."
Mivan looked at her.
"Yeah."
His father followed her inside.
"You gave us quite a scare."
Mivan gave a weak smile.
"Sorry."
His mother immediately shook her head.
"Don't apologize. Just rest."
She sat beside the bed and gently fixed his blanket.
His father stood on the other side, trying to act casual.
"So... how does it feel to get special treatment at the hospital?"
Mivan raised an eyebrow.
"Special treatment?"
"Of course. You get your own bed, three meals, and people checking on you all day."
Mivan gave a small laugh.
"I'd rather go to school."
His mother smiled.
"Then get better first."
For a little while, they talked normally.
They joked.
They smiled.
They pretended that everything was fine.
And Mivan pretended along with them.
He knew they were worried.
But he didn't want to see that worry on their faces.
He didn't want his parents to look at him like he was fragile.
After several tests, the doctor finally allowed him to go home.
Mivan slowly changed his clothes and packed his things.
His eyes stopped on the small sketchbook lying beside his bag.
He picked it up.
The pages were filled with unfinished drawings—mountains, houses, people, random ideas that had appeared in his head during long nights when he couldn't sleep.
He slipped the sketchbook into his bag.
Then he looked around the room one last time.
White walls.
White sheets.
That terrible hospital smell.
He was more than ready to leave.
---
The drive home was quiet.
His mother occasionally asked if he was comfortable.
His father kept his eyes on the road.
Mivan looked out of the window.
Trees passed by.
Houses passed by.
People walked along the roads, laughing and talking as if nothing in the world could interrupt their ordinary lives.
He watched them quietly.
I want that.
Not anything special.
Just an ordinary life.
When they finally reached home, Mivan's two older brothers were waiting near the entrance.
The moment they saw him, one of them smiled.
"Look who's finally back."
The other laughed.
"Hospital VIP has returned."
Mivan rolled his eyes.
"Very funny."
One of his brothers ruffled his hair.
"Come inside, idiot."
Mivan smiled.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
The smell of fresh tea and warm rice filled the house.
His mother went into the kitchen.
His father started talking about something that had happened during the day.
His brothers argued over something completely meaningless.
Mivan stood there listening.
It felt good.
Home was noisy.
Home was messy.
Home was normal.
And he wanted to stay inside that normality for as long as possible.
---
The next morning, Mivan stood in front of the mirror wearing his school uniform.
He adjusted his collar.
Then his eyes moved toward the small bag hanging beside him.
He took a slow breath.
Back to school.
His chest still felt slightly uncomfortable.
But he ignored it.
His mother noticed.
"You're sure you're ready?"
Mivan turned around with a smile.
"Of course."
"Don't push yourself."
"I won't."
His father looked at him from the doorway.
"Listen to your mother."
Mivan nodded.
"Okay."
His brothers were already making jokes downstairs.
"Hey, Mivan! If you're going to school, don't come back with another hospital bill!"
Mivan laughed.
"Don't worry. I'll send it to you."
"Yeah, right!"
His mother shook her head, but she smiled.
Nobody wanted to make the morning serious.
Nobody wanted to remind him that only yesterday he had been lying in a hospital bed.
So they laughed.
And Mivan laughed with them.
---
Sandeep was waiting near the school gate.
The moment he saw Mivan, his face lit up.
"You're back!"
Mivan barely had time to react before Sandeep slapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Man, you disappeared for so long!"
"I was in the hospital, not another country."
"Same thing. I couldn't make fun of you for weeks."
Mivan laughed.
"You missed me that much?"
"Absolutely not."
"Liar."
They started walking toward the school building together.
Sandeep looked at him from the corner of his eye.
"So... are you actually okay now?"
Mivan smiled.
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
Sandeep stared at him for another second.
Then he grinned.
"Good. Because exams aren't going to wait for your dramatic hospital entrance."
Mivan laughed.
"I knew there was a reason I didn't want to come back."
"Too late."
They walked through the corridor together.
Students passed them.
Teachers called out to students.
Someone was laughing loudly near the staircase.
Everything was exactly as it had always been.
Mivan looked around.
For the first time in days, he felt like an ordinary sixteen-year-old again.
But beneath that feeling, something remained.
A strange heaviness in his chest.
A quiet fear he couldn't explain.
He placed a hand against it for just a moment.
Then he lowered his hand before Sandeep could notice.
I'm okay.
That's what he told himself.
I'm okay.
And he kept walking.
The chapter/story has ended, but we'll remember it someday from another corner of a new universe.