She didn’t ask again.

She set her pack against the wall and went to the kitchen. Cupboards opened and shut. Water ran, then stopped. The sounds were quick and sure, the sounds of someone who had done this many times before. She came back with a cloth, a bowl of water, two small jars, and a compressed bandage. Everything went beside the couch. She sat.

She started with his face.

Her hands were precise. The cloth was cool. She cleaned the cuts along his jaw in short, careful strokes, and he kept still and looked at the ceiling. Wobbly did not move from his side, a steady warmth against his hip.

She shifted to the other side of his jaw. He sucked in a sharp breath.

"Hold still."

"I am holding still."

"Yeah." She didn’t look up. "Like a worm with salt on it."

The room was so quiet the lantern’s low hiss sounded loud.

"Start from the beginning," she said.

"There’s not much to tell."

"Dominic."

A pause. He let out a slow breath.

"Right. So it started on Lunesday at the academy."

***

The bullying that day was coordinated.

Groups blocked corridors between sessions. Shoulders knocked him into walls, all of it looking accidental from a distance. A stairwell incident reopened the split lip and left his shoulder aching from a hard hit against the railing. Victor’s extended circle, plus new faces he didn’t recognize. All of it kept just below the threshold that would force an official response.

He found longer routes between sessions. Waited for groups to clear before he moved.

But the day’s strangeness was only starting.

After the last session, he went to the infirmary.

Three new faces worked inside. All of them watched him come through the door. Their expressions did not belong to people who cared very much about his health. He clocked it in seconds, said he’d come back later, and left casual. He didn’t turn his back to the room until he was through the door.

He didn’t return.

***

Her hands slowed.

"They had people inside the academy."

"Just for that one day. Regular staff were back the next morning. A few things came up coincidentally that kept them from going to work."

She listened without comment. Kept working through his face, then his hands. The cut across his right palm cleaned and wrapped. When she finished, she set the cloth down and looked at him.

"Shirt off."

"It’s—"

"Off."

He sat up with a low groan. Worked the buttons without looking at her. Shrugged the shirt off slowly, peeling it from dried blood. The fabric made a soft, tacky sound as it came away.

She looked at what was underneath.

Her hands moved across his torso, mapping every injury. The bruising was old and settled, spread across his ribs from near centre to his left side. Two clear impact points. A few smaller cuts. She traced the worst of it carefully, and a tight sound escaped him before he could stop it.

"Dominic."

"Yeah?"

"Is this too from the academy?"

"No." He took a deeper breath and winced. "Most of it was on Steelday. After I returned from the academy."

"What happened."

***

He went to the guild that late afternoon.

Picked a job on the board. Simple posting in the lower city. Delivery and confirmation, Bronze rank appropriate. Everything read as legitimate.

Rough jokes from the adventurers about how he’d been getting special treatment. He paid them no attention. Took the quest, recorded it at the reception desk, and left.

Half a block from the job address, he noticed something was wrong. Too many people standing without purpose. Attention coming toward him from multiple directions.

He tried to turn back before he reached the destination.

They came out of two side streets at once.

A brawler on the left. C-rank, most likely. The hit caught Dominic clean across the ribs. The air left his body completely. The punch took him off his feet and into whatever was behind him. He felt it through every bone from hip to shoulder.

He got up through willpower alone.

Then the rogue on the right joined in. Dominic, by some miracle, created enough space and ran. A blade caught his back as he went. He felt it, but the rib hit was occupying everything else.

He found a corner two streets over and pressed what remained of his shirt against the injury until the bleeding slowed. Then he kept running until he was sure he’d lost the immediate pursuit.

***

She worked carefully along his ribs now, pressing in slow, measured increments. He pulled a sharp breath when she found the worst of it.

"How long were you running before you could rest."

"Most of that day." Controlled breath. "Found a corner in an alleyway that night."

"You slept in an alley."

"I didn’t sleep."

The room went quiet.

She processed it without comment. Then she sat back.

"Turn around."

The groan was low, genuine, and exhausted. When he moved, it wasn’t a single fluid motion. It was a series of deliberate, isolated turns, like he had to manually authorize every joint before it would comply.

She saw the back cut and went still.

This was different in quality. Her hands didn’t move. The room fell into a jagged, heavy silence. He couldn’t see her face with his back to her, but he felt the pressure radiating off of her, a stillness that was louder than any words she could have spoken.

"Theresa."

She resumed. Her hands began cleaning the cut without answering. It had needed stitching days ago. She worked carefully, making sure it was properly taken care of. The rogue’s cut was nasty, a long drag across his back, and he’d been managing it poorly since then.

He continued telling the events into day three while she finished.

***

By day three, the bounty on his head had spread through the lower city.

He didn’t know the specifics, but he felt the change. It wasn’t one organized group with a plan anymore. Multiple independent groups picked him up at different points. Following in shifts. Arguing with each other at corners about territory and payment splits.

He moved constantly. Used the city’s layers. Market crowds. Narrow passages. Guild district traffic. The dungeon entrance area, where enough armed people moved that a chase would draw attention nobody wanted.

A Shatter, the leader of one of the groups, caught him in a side street near the guild district. Dominic was already dodging when the attack hit. The force extended past the point of contact, radiating outward. He caught the edge of it while breaking away and felt something shift in his left side that was different from the rib damage. Deeper.

Two groups converged on him near the south market. Both coming from different angles. Nowhere clean to go. He picked the narrowest gap and pushed through hard. Both groups collided trying to follow. He heard the noise of it behind him and didn’t look back.

He found covered positions where he could. Never stayed long. Used the sound of the groups moving through the area to know when to move and when to stay still.

He didn’t sleep for three days.

***

She told him to face her again.

He turned slowly. She worked carefully along his left side below the ribs, pressing in short, careful increments. When she found the Shatter damage, she reached for the second jar without speaking.

"Hold still. This will hurt."

The sound that came out of him was not managed. Short and involuntary. His hand closed around the couch edge and his knuckles went pale.

She kept working. Her hands didn’t stop and didn’t rush.

When the worst of it passed, he breathed out slowly. The room felt very small and very quiet.

"I wish I had come back sooner," she said.

"You couldn’t have known."

"Still."

"The mission was important."

"So are you." Her hands kept moving, but her voice had dropped. "Your life isn’t just yours anymore. If you die, this whole thing falls apart."

Silence.

"I know." Quietly. "I’m sorry."

A long pause. She stopped what she was doing and lifted her eyes to his face.

"Look at me."

He did.

"I’ve treated worse than this before." A pause. "Not by much though. You’ll be fine."

Something rose in his chest that was almost a laugh. Then she pressed along his left side again and it became a sharp hiss instead.

"Don’t laugh when I’m being serious."

"Yes ma’am."

The silence that followed was different. Almost warm. The low light of the lantern flickered. Her hands rested on his side. The tension between them shifted into something unspoken, delicate, held carefully between them like a held breath. Neither of them moved to break it.

He continued where he left off.

***

He broke for home on the fourth day by going the longest way possible.

Tripled his route. Waited at three separate points to confirm nothing was following. His breathing was managed rather than natural.

Through the gate. Across the courtyard. Through the door.

Made it to the couch. Didn’t get back up.

He’d been careful throughout not to lead anyone back. Every route across four days deliberate about that.

Ten minutes later, he heard her come in.

***

She wrapped the last of the bandages and sat beside the couch. Close enough that Wobbly had to shift to make room for her. The lantern burned low. Outside the apartment, the neighbourhood had gone quiet.

"During all these days, why didn’t you go to Frank?"

A short breath. Almost a laugh without the humour in it.

"It’s not that I didn’t go. It’s that I couldn’t get close enough to try. The front of the guild, the streets around it." He paused. "They were subtly occupied. They were expecting me to run there."

"Well. Now there’s a bounty on your head," she said.

"Yes."

"Since we already know who put it." A pause. "I imagine you’re already thinking about what you’re going to do next."

Silence.

"When you’re ready to talk about it." She paused. "I’ll be waiting."

The lantern shifted slightly in a draft from the courtyard. The light moved across the walls, across her face.

"Thank you," he said.

She held his gaze for a moment longer. Something passed between them, unspoken, unhurried. Then she gathered the things she’d used and walked away, her footsteps soft against the floorboards.

Wobbly glowed steadily against his side.

[HOST SURVIVAL REGISTERED: 4-DAY BOUNTY CHASE SURVIVED]

[QUEST MILESTONE REACHED: "ENDURE THE HUNT"]

[REWARD: +150 GT TOKENS]

[QUEST PROGRESS: SURVIVE THE NEXT THIRTY DAYS — 20 DAYS REMAINING]

[CURRENT GT TOKENS: 150]