Nina's question waited between us while the confidence score remained available behind my eyes. Eight seemed optimistic once answering required admitting that I had noticed her for months. The truth sounded harmless until attraction gave it weight inside the hospital room.
"You argued with Professor Lail during the first lecture," I said, watching her expression instead of the screen, "then you thanked him for changing his mind."
"He was wrong about the photograph," she replied, narrowing her eyes because the memory had not answered enough.
"You knew that before checking your notes," I continued, feeling heat reach my face while the monitor exposed my pulse, "so I remembered you."
Nina waited, allowing the silence to request the rest without rescuing me. I could mention her recorder, her greeting for the custodian, or the three different jackets she rotated through rain. Each detail made the answer more honest plus considerably more dangerous to say.
"You are difficult to ignore," I admitted, shifting carefully when pressure tightened near the incision, "especially for somebody who spends lectures trying to become furniture."
"You watched me," she said, though curiosity softened the accusation before it reached me.
"Sometimes," I replied, resisting the urge to claim everyone watched her, "I never followed you or collected anything private."
"That clarification arrived very quickly," Nina said, pressing her lips together while amusement returned.
"I understand how the sentence sounded," I told her, letting embarrassment remain visible instead of turning it into denial.
She leaned back, studying me with more care than she had given the interface. I expected teasing because it would make the confession easier for both of us. Nina chose a quieter answer, which removed the escape I had prepared.
"I noticed you too," she said, tracing the edge of her visitor sticker with one finger, "but I did not know your name until Professor Lail read the essay list."
"You knew my seat," I replied, remembering her first words beside the road.
"You always choose the outlet nobody can use," she said, lifting one shoulder while the other remained still, "then you leave before anyone reaches the stairs."
The description felt much too precise to dismiss as simple accident guilt. She had observed the same quiet patterns I believed erased me, storing them without deciding they were pathetic. I looked toward the window because accepting that directly required a larger social organ.
"Why?" I asked, returning the question she had given me.
"You look as though you want somebody to interrupt you," Nina replied, tapping the visitor sticker against her sleeve, "then you punish them in advance by leaving."
"That is uncomfortably efficient," I said, unable to find a defensive version that survived her wording.
"I study people," she answered, meeting my eyes again as the sticker stopped moving, "you were not a private investigation."
The surgeon arrived before I could decide whether that answer disappointed me. Doctor Henley checked the incision, listened to my breathing, plus made me press a plastic device upward with one weak inhale. Nina wrote every instruction inside her phone even after I said I could remember.
"Walk once with assistance this afternoon," Doctor Henley said, replacing the blanket while I recovered, "if the blood count remains stable, discharge could happen in three days."
"Can he eat?" Nina asked, glancing toward the untouched tray outside my door.
"Clear food first," he replied, checking the chart before facing me, "then something soft if your stomach tolerates it."
Nina waited until he left the room before collecting her waiting bag. I expected the earlier shower plan, though she checked a delivery application instead. Her thumb moved through restaurant listings while I tried reading upside down.
"The hospital has soup," I said, pointing toward the corridor where a cart rattled between rooms.
"The hospital has warm salt water," she replied, scrolling through another menu as she sat, "what do you actually eat when nobody supervises you?"
"Food with instructions printed on the container," I answered, considering the empty freezer waiting inside my apartment.
"That explains the style score," she said, giving the screen she could not see more respect than it deserved.
I asked how she planned to order without knowing what the doctor allowed. Nina turned the phone, revealing a restaurant menu filtered to broth plus soft rice. She had also messaged Ava about outside food before choosing anything from it.
"Chicken broth or vegetable?" she asked, holding the choices where I could read them.
"Whichever you want," I replied, hearing the refusal hidden inside politeness after she raised one eyebrow.
"I am ordering for you," Nina said, tapping neither option while she waited, "so choose for yourself."
"Chicken," I answered, then added soft rice because the choice seemed to require evidence of life.
She placed the order without adding items for herself, which bothered me more than it should have. Her two empty coffee cups represented the entire sleepless night beside me. I pointed toward the restaurant menu when she finally lowered the phone.
"You need food too," I said, keeping the concern out of command territory, "unless your sister plans to deliver nutrition with the clothes."
"Olica is bringing breakfast," she replied, showing a message containing six threats plus a photograph of a sandwich, "she thinks I have been kidnapped by guilt."
The word changed the room before either of us chose what to do with it. Nina's gaze moved toward my bandage, then the hand I had extended across the sheet earlier. She looked tired enough to tell the entire truth without polishing any part.
"I feel guilty," she said, setting the phone face down as she leaned forward, "you would not be in this bed if I had watched the road."
"The driver lost control," I replied, feeling the familiar urge to erase her responsibility fully.
"I walked backward into a crossing," she said, keeping her voice calm while the shame beneath it sharpened, "so both things can be true."
I stopped because denying a fact she needed to own would only protect me from discomfort. Nina had made a dangerous mistake without requesting the punishment my body had accepted for it.
"You made a bad choice," I said, watching her absorb the words without flinching, "but staying here cannot reverse it."
"I know," she replied, touching her wrapped palm against her knee, "I stopped pretending it could around four this morning."
"What happened at four?" I asked, picturing some medical crisis everyone had hidden until I woke.
"Nothing," Nina said, looking embarrassed while a smile weakened her seriousness, "you snored, then I realized unconscious Kofi was irritating too."
"That sounds medically significant," I replied, feeling laughter pull against my ribs before I stopped it.
"It was useful," she said, letting the smile remain as she reached for the water sponge, "guilt made me come to the hospital, but it did not make me learn your essay deadline."
She touched the sponge to my lips after I nodded, holding it until I finished. The gesture carried care without pretending we had earned intimacy overnight, while Nina's other choices had continued after guilt stopped giving instructions.
"What made you stay?" I asked, choosing the question before I could decide it demanded too much.
"You thanked the paramedic while you were bleeding," she replied, returning the sponge to the cup, "then you kept checking whether I was hurt."
"That is disappointingly respectable," I said, letting my hand settle across the blanket.
"You also called the hospital coffee brown punishment," Nina added, correcting the image before it became flattering, "so curiosity helped."
Her sister arrived with clothes before I could ask what curiosity meant. Olica Shoka was taller than Nina, carried two camera bags, plus assessed my room before crossing the doorway. She placed the breakfast sandwich into Nina's hands without greeting her first.
"Eat," Olica ordered, pointing toward the chair while Nina opened her mouth, "then shower at my apartment before you frighten another surgeon."
"Kofi, this is my sister," Nina said, unwrapping the sandwich because resistance had apparently failed before, "Olica, this is the man you accused me of kidnapping."
"You look terrible," Olica told me, setting a small bag of approved broth beside the cabinet, "which supports her version of events."
"The car argued more convincingly," I replied, receiving the smallest movement near her mouth.
Olica asked how I felt, whether my parents knew, plus when the driver would face charges while watching Nina between each answer. Suspicion appeared whenever her sister adjusted my blanket or checked the phone charger.
"She is not responsible for me," I said, addressing the concern before Olica needed to turn it into an accusation.
"I did not say she was," Olica replied, folding her arms while Nina stared at both of us.
"Your left eyebrow did," Nina said, taking another bite before pointing the sandwich at her sister.
"My eyebrow wants her to sleep," Olica answered, lifting the clothing bag onto one shoulder as she faced me, "what do you want?"
The question resembled the System quest enough that I almost checked for a screen. I wanted Nina to return after showering, though saying it before her protective sister felt designed to create suspicion. Avoiding the answer would also suggest that my earlier request had been a temporary weakness.
"I want Nina to decide after she rests," I said, looking at her rather than Olica, "I would be glad if she came back."
Nina finished chewing while her sister watched the answer land, then Olica gave a short nod because I had claimed nothing larger. She collected Nina's bag before moving with it toward the hospital door.
"Two hours," Nina said, standing as she adjusted the borrowed jacket around her shoulders, "I am showering, eating the rest of this, then returning with the soup you chose."
"I will remain heroically horizontal," I replied, stopping before another joke could hide the relief.
"Good," she said, holding my eyes for a second before following Olica into the corridor.
The room felt larger after they left, though not peacefully empty in the way my apartment usually did. I opened the System again while the leg machine tightened around both calves. A blank quest field appeared beneath my current stats, then filled when I thought about asking whether Nina found me attractive.
[Proposed quest rejected.]
[Reason: completion would depend upon another person's answer.]
[Choose an action belonging to the host.]
The interface removed the prompt before I could argue, leaving the restriction sharper than its earlier explanation. Nina's possible interest could never become an objective, reward condition, or convenient number. I would have to live without knowing until she chose to tell me.