Returnee from Another World - Chapter 30: The Price of Life

Chapter 30: The Price of Life

“Listen, Kaede. This is a very important medicine, so even if it tastes bitter, you mustn’t spit it out.”

“…Okay.”

“If you drink it properly, I’ll buy you your favorite thing later.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. If you swallow it like a good girl.”

“Then, then… I want pudding!”

I was back in the hospital room I’d visited just days ago. This time, as an official visitor. I hadn’t told Sayaka I’d been here before.

A little girl in cute animal-patterned pajamas lit up at Sayaka’s words.

Needless to say, this was Sayaka’s daughter, Kaede.

Kaede had just turned six and was set to start elementary school next spring. A bit prematurely, a pink schoolbag, far too big for her, sat by the bed.

Sayaka likely knew it was unrealistic but placed it there as a wish, a kind of prayer.

On the hospital bed, Kaede carefully held the vial Sayaka gave her, tilting it slowly to her mouth.

Beside her, Sayaka’s aura flickered with yellow (【Hope】) and purple (【Anxiety】), vying for dominance. The unsteady aura reflected her inner turmoil as she watched.

The vial contained the Poison of Muleduel.

It was nearly tasteless and odorless, a small dose, so Sayaka’s worry was likely unfounded. But even I couldn’t claim to be completely at ease. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t reject it.

Despite our concerns, Kaede finished it, her face breaking into a bright, blooming smile.

“How’s it feel, Kaede? How’s your body?”

“Mm, it’s kinda warm.”

“I see… Good girl. A few more doses, and you’ll get better.”

Sayaka said this, but her purple (【Anxiety】) lingered.

She didn’t fully believe her own words. Glancing back at me, her eyes, filled with earnest questioning, asked if this would really work.

It was understandable. Her daughter had a disease even doctors had given up on.

Despite the white (【Trust】) in her aura, she was scared to hope.

Kaede showed no rashes, and so far, there were no issues. But I didn’t know if reactions would appear immediately. Rejection could still happen on the second or third dose.

Yuki Sato’s case, with three doses, was too small a sample to rely on.

“As I said before, one dose won’t cure it. At least four, ideally five, but more isn’t always better. Don’t worry too much. It’ll work out.”

“Yes…”

Truth be told, if the Poison of Muleduel failed, I had other options, though not ideal.

I could turn her into a Lesser Vampire or use a parasitic organism to forcibly sustain her body’s functions. But those came with serious drawbacks, so I’d rather avoid them.

There was no point overthinking. It would be what it would be. To change the subject, I asked Sayaka about something that had caught my eye.

“By the way, I noticed the nameplate on the room had two names.”

“Yes. The bed next to Kaede’s is for a boy named Yuki Sato. He got permission for a temporary discharge and isn’t here now.”

“Hm, that explains it. Is that a good sign?”

Temporary discharge didn’t always mean recovery.

Sometimes, it was a compassionate allowance for terminal patients to spend their final days with family. That’s why I asked if it was good news, and Sayaka seemed to understand.

“Oh, yes. His condition has improved significantly. His mother was crying, saying the treatment finally worked. She called it a miracle…”

“I see. A miracle, huh…”

Sayaka’s subdued expression likely stemmed from frustration—why hadn’t her daughter received that miracle? Should I tell her everything about Yuki Sato?

But explaining why I used a precious divine drug on a stranger would be tricky.

Just as I swallowed the words, a nurse entered the room.

“Ms. Hojo, do you have a moment?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Just… a quick word.”

The older nurse hesitated, beckoning subtly.

The atmosphere suggested bad news.

Sayaka, sensing it too, stood, her purple (【Anxiety】) deepening. Curious, I followed her to the doorway. But the nurse’s news had nothing to do with Kaede.

“Sorry to interrupt. I wanted you to decide whether to tell Kaede. Yuki Sato passed away earlier.”

“What?!”

“He was in an accident. On his way back from dinner with family, I hear. It wasn’t our hospital, but by the time he was rushed to emergency, it was too late…”

“That’s…”

“Poor thing. His condition had stabilized, and there was hope. His parents might visit to pay respects, so please decide what to do before then. Kaede and Yuki were close, right? If you want to keep it secret, maybe say he was discharged. I’ll hint to his parents to stay quiet.”

“Yes, understood. Um—”

“No rush. Discuss it with family or relatives. Kids Kaede’s age can be deeply affected, but some families believe it’s good to expose them to such things early.”

The nurse glanced at me briefly, gave a slight bow, and left.

She probably mistook me, as James Masuda, for a relative. Sayaka’s striking, almost non-Japanese figure might’ve contributed to the mix-up.

An accident, huh.

The Poison of Muleduel was wasted, but that didn’t bother me.

His temporary discharge proved it worked in this world.

But one concern had lingered since returning here.

A seed of unease sprouted in me.

If I changed the past, would fate push back?

It’s a common trope in stories—fate has a force that pulls things back to their original shape, no matter how you alter it. I couldn’t rule it out.

I’d already changed Ayano’s fate, and so far, there were no signs of backlash.

With Sayaka, was our different meeting a result of fate’s force or a changed destiny? It could go either way.

At least, it wasn’t a case of fate snapping back to its original course. So, Yuki’s accident was likely just a coincidence…

“Should I keep it from Kaede?”

Sayaka’s words pulled me from my thoughts.

“Dunno. That’s for you, as her mother, to decide. I’d say exposing a kid to death can wait until she’s older.”

“Yuki promised Kaede he’d be back next week. But telling her he died in an accident would hurt her, I know…”

“Then say he was discharged. Our god, Agufis, will overlook a small lie like that.”

I didn’t think it was worth agonizing over, but mothers have their own struggles. I wasn’t going to interfere.

“Mom, where’s my pudding?”

Kaede’s voice came from the bed, impatient.

“Yes, yes, I’ll get it now.”

“She looks healthy. I’ll head out then. We’ll continue next week.”

“Thank you, truly. I’ll repay this debt my entire life…”

Sayaka bowed deeply.

Her aura’s white (【Trust】) and pink (【Affection】) confirmed her heartfelt words.

I wasn’t entirely unmoved by pity for Kaede, Sayaka’s daughter, but my true aim was Sayaka’s loyalty. In that sense, I’d achieved a satisfying result.

“Hey, is the mister gonna be my papa?”

As I turned to leave, Kaede’s voice stopped me.

“Hm? Does Kaede-chan want a papa?”

“…Yeah.”

“Sorry, but I can’t be your papa.”

“Kaede, Mr. Masuda is far greater than a papa.”

“?”

“I’ll explain so you understand later. For now, just say thank you to Mr. Masuda.”

“Okay. Thank you, mister.”

“Yeah.”

Being thanked for such impure motives felt awkward.

Still, saving her daughter’s life was real. Let them be grateful.

I planned to make Sayaka useful in many ways going forward.