The question kept looping in my mind. How so? I stared at the spot where the luminous interface had appeared just seconds earlier, as if it might materialize again before me to offer some explanation. But there was nothing. The space in front of my eyes had returned to perfect normality, empty and silent, and this sudden disappearance only intensified the confusion swirling in my head. It felt as if my mind was trying to grasp something that constantly slipped through my fingers, like a memory refusing to be understood.
"Mr. Eren…" The doctor's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I slowly turned my head toward him, still lost in what I had just seen. "I didn't understand what you said earlier…" I admitted with almost awkward sincerity, because that information suddenly seemed indispensable. If I couldn't comprehend what had happened to me, I felt as if my head would explode under the weight of the questions. The doctor remained silent for a moment, then nodded slightly. "I understand," he replied calmly.
He walked toward a small table near the wall and picked up a document placed among several medical files. The paper rustled softly between his fingers as he read the lines with methodical attention. "According to the reports…" he began in a composed voice, "you were found in an alley at the intersection of Grundff and Loupher. You were unconscious when the emergency responders arrived." Each word seemed to strike my mind like an invisible knife, stirring fragments of memories I could not yet piece together.
He then closed the document with a soft sigh before continuing, as if searching for the simplest way to explain the situation. "Your condition was particularly severe when you arrived at the hospital. Your heart had stopped, and we had to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation before placing you on mechanical ventilation to maintain your vital functions." The medical terms echoed in the room with cold precision, describing an event that seemed to belong to someone else's life.
Hearing this, any normal person would probably have reacted with shock or panic. Someone who remembered walking calmly down a street just an hour ago would certainly have been unable to accept the idea of having spent two months in a coma. Yet, to my own surprise, I felt almost nothing. My heart remained oddly calm, as if these facts could not provoke the emotional response they deserved. I simply nodded slightly and responded in a steady voice, "I understand… thank you."
The doctor studied me for a few seconds, his gaze tinged with quiet curiosity. "You are a fascinating young man," he finally said with a faint smile, as if thinking aloud. He explained that despite the duration of my coma, my body had remained remarkably stable and healthy, surprising the entire medical team. They had never been able to determine exactly what had brought me into this state, yet my body had continued to function almost normally. "In any case, we are glad you are awake," he concluded. "Rest well. You will be able to leave tomorrow, after a few additional tests."
He then rose to leave the room, but before he reached the door, I called out hesitantly, "Doctor…" He immediately turned, waiting for my question. "Thank you," I said simply. The man remained silent for a moment before nodding softly, a small, discreet smile appearing on his lips. He then exited the room without another word, leaving behind the almost oppressive quiet of the space.
I found myself alone amidst the machines, their steady vibrations and electronic beeps resonating like a constant reminder of my recent fragility. The white ceiling suddenly seemed much more vast than a few minutes earlier, and I remained still, trying to gather my thoughts. The images of what I had seen before waking continued to spin in my head with disturbing clarity. Was it a dream? Everything seemed far too real to be merely a product of my imagination.
I thought of my mother, her face, the warmth of her hands when hers had held mine. The memory was so vivid that I still felt her scent lingering around me. Yet something about this scene remained deeply unsettling, like a wrong note in an otherwise perfect melody. I could not understand why this memory left such an immense emptiness in my chest. It was as if something had been given to me only to be immediately taken away.
The next day arrived faster than I expected. When I finally left the hospital, the sky was already shaded with the dark colors of evening, making me realize that the few tests the doctor had mentioned had taken far longer than anticipated. He had prescribed a list of medications I needed to take regularly, explaining that my body still needed to recover after months of inactivity. I half-listened to his explanations, my mind still occupied by the strange events that had occurred before I woke.
I was also told that no one had visited me during my hospitalization. Apparently, no one had come to see me for a long time, not even the few friends I had at university. The nurses explained that some classmates had come in the first few weeks, but the visits quickly stopped when my condition showed no improvement. This information did not surprise me as much as it might have in the past. I simply accepted it with a strange calm.
I also had to face another less pleasant reality: the hospital bills had to be paid. The hospital administration, however, granted me a one-month grace period, considering my situation and the fact that I had just emerged from a coma. This unexpected generosity left me briefly perplexed, but I lacked the energy to worry at that moment. For now, the mere idea of breathing the outside air was enough to occupy my thoughts.
I finally stepped through the hospital doors and immediately felt a strange sensation fill my chest. My heart felt unusually light, as if some of the weight pressing on it had disappeared without my noticing. The evening air was cool, carrying with it the familiar scents of the city. With almost no money on me, I decided to walk home rather than take transport. After all, my apartment was only a few streets away from the hospital.
As I walked, I noticed something unusual about my body. My muscles seemed slightly more developed than before, which was strange for someone who had spent two months lying in a hospital bed. My hair had also grown far longer than I had imagined, now falling to my shoulders in a disorder that gave me a different appearance. I absentmindedly ran my hand through these overly long strands, trying to remember what I had looked like before all this.
Despite these changes, my face remained largely the same. I was neither particularly handsome nor truly ugly, just someone ordinary, easily forgotten in a crowd. This ordinariness had always suited me before, but at this moment, I found it almost strange, as if my appearance no longer matched what I felt inside. I continued walking without really understanding why these thoughts crossed my mind.
Suddenly, a voice called from behind me. "Hey, Eren…" I turned to see who it was and spotted a young woman approaching quickly. She seemed slightly out of breath, as if she had run to catch up with me. "I came to see you at the hospital, but I was told you were already out… lucky I caught up to you," she explained, catching her breath.
"Are you okay, Mia?" I asked calmly, looking at her.
She remained silent for a few seconds, eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if my question had surprised her. "It's rather for me to ask you that," she finally replied, placing her hands on her hips. Mia was a colleague from university with whom I had worked on a project a few months earlier. After that joint work, we had barely spoken, each returning to our own lives.
I watched her carefully, not knowing why. Usually, in this kind of situation, I would have scratched my head with an awkward smile to ease the tension. Yet this time, no gesture came naturally. I simply stood there, observing her in silence before saying in a neutral voice, "You didn't answer me."
Mia looked at me with a strange expression, as if studying something unusual. After a few seconds, she let out a small, mocking laugh that sounded more nervous than amused. "Trying to act tough… it's kind of cute," she said, shaking her head slightly. Then her expression abruptly changed as she remembered why I had been in the hospital. "But… I can understand after what happened to you—" She suddenly stopped, covering her mouth with her hands. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to say that."
"Don't worry… I understand," I replied simply before turning to continue walking.
As I walked, I realized that something inside me had changed, even though I didn't know exactly what. My demeanor felt foreign, as if this behavior had always been mine without me remembering. This impression unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. Behind me, I still felt Mia's gaze on my back, a look filled with pity and perhaps regret.
I took a few more steps before stopping abruptly. Turning around, I saw her already ready to head in the opposite direction. A thought crossed my mind with unexpected clarity. "Would you come with me to my place… Mia?" I asked, a slight smile curling at the corner of my lips.