Tòumíng rested on a stretcher in the medical wing, his broken bones throbbing despite the painkillers Sasha had administered. The room was quiet except for the occasional beep of monitoring equipment and the sound of his own breathing.
Hǔtān was still in the bed beside him, wrapped head to toe in bandages, his burned skin needing to heal the slow, normal way that regular humans without supernatural abilities had to endure. In the four hours they'd both been there, Hǔtān hadn't spoken once. Just stared up at the ceiling with his one visible eye, lost in thoughts that Tòumíng couldn't begin to guess at.
The silence was almost comfortable.
No questions.
No revelations about dead parents.
No emotional confessions.
Just two injured people existing in the same space.
Tòumíng felt drowsy, the painkillers were strong, pulling him toward sleep in a warm, fuzzy way that made his eyelids heavy. He let them close, just resting his eyes for a moment, not quite sleeping but not quite awake either.
BANG.
The door slammed open with enough force to make Tòumíng's eyes snap open immediately.
Svetlana stood in the doorway, her tall frame filling the entrance, her expression a mixture of concern and something else Tòumíng couldn't quite identify.
"I HEARD TVIG BOY BROKE HIS LEG?!" Her voice was loud, urgent, carrying genuine worry.
She rushed over to his stretcher with surprising speed for someone her size, immediately getting affectionate in a way that made Tòumíng deeply uncomfortable. Her hands touched his face, his shoulders, checking him over like a mother hen inspecting a wounded chick.
"You need anything? Vater? Food? Happy ending? Massa—"
"WAIT, WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" Tòumíng cut her off, his eyes going wide.
Svetlana immediately changed the subject, her hands moving to examine his injured leg with professional focus. "Are you alright? How is pain? Vhat happened to leg?"
"I'm... okay? Sasha gave me painkillers. My knee is dislocated and—"
"Good! Good!" Svetlana smiled brightly, her expression shifting to something that Tòumíng recognized as dangerous enthusiasm. "I vill relocate dislocated knee for you!"
Tòumíng's panic spiked immediately. "Why?! Why you?! Can't Sasha do it?! She's the medic!"
Svetlana leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Is like... guilty pleasure. You know how basic vhite girls like to pop pimples? I like popping bones back into place. Very satisfying. Very therapeutic."
"That's—that's concerning! That's a concerning thing to say!"
"Is going to hurt?" Tòumíng asked, his voice rising with worry. "Because if it's going to hurt maybe we should wait for proper medical—"
"Is completely harmless!" Svetlana interrupted, her smile widening. "Completely painless! No vorry at all!"
Tòumíng breathed a sigh of relief, his panic subsiding slightly. "Oh. Okay. That's good. I was worried it would be really painful and—"
"Painless for ME, that is," Svetlana finished cheerfully.
"Wait, what? No—"
CRACK.
Svetlana grabbed his leg with one hand and relocated his knee back into its proper position with a single, brutal movement that was technically correct but absolutely excruciating.
"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Tòumíng's scream echoed through the medical wing, his entire body convulsing with pain despite the painkillers in his system. His hands gripped the stretcher rails so hard his knuckles went white. Tears streamed from his eyes involuntarily.
Svetlana patted his head affectionately, like praising a dog who'd performed a trick.
"You did good job! Very brave! Barely screamed at all!"
"I SCREAMED A LOT!" Tòumíng gasped between residual waves of pain.
"Eh. I've heard louder." Svetlana's hand remained on his head, her fingers running through his hair in what was probably meant to be comforting but just felt weird given the context.
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to that dangerous tone again.
"You know, I could offer to vatch over you tonight. Make sure you're comfortable. Keep you company."
Her hand moved from his head to his shoulder, her grip firm.
"Alone. By myself. In private. Just you and me. Very quiet. Very... attentive."
From inside Tòumíng's chest, Cupid's voice cut through, barely containing laughter.
"Oh my god. Tòumíng, you might actually be the first person in human history to die by snu snu. This is how it ends. Not gang violence. Not supernatural threats. Death by enthusiastic Russian woman."
Tòumíng's face went bright red. "I'm fine! Completely fine! Don't need watching! Sasha can handle it! She's very capable!"
Svetlana's smile became predatory. "But I am MORE capable. Very experienced vith... medical care."
"NOPE! ALL GOOD HERE! THANKS THOUGH!"
In the bed beside them, Hǔtān's single visible eye had shifted to watch this interaction, and despite everything—despite the bandages, the pain, the trauma—there was a hint of amusement in that eye.