Trigger warnings: Mention of malnourishment, mention of death

 

Maria refused to leave Moonbyul’s side in the infirmary. At first, the nurses were unsure if they should let her stay, but then Dr. Kim came in and told them to let her. 

 

“I read her notes,” María overheard Dr. Kim say to the nurses. “She hasn’t opened up to anyone in the three years she’s been here. This may be an important time for her. She clearly connected with Moonbyul-shi.” 

 

So the nurses let her be. When she came back from the bathroom the first day, she saw they’d placed a cot near Moonbyul’s bed for her, so for the past three days, she sat by Moonbyul and slept on the cot next to her. She held Moonbyul’s hand, willing her to just wake up. 

 

She worried day and night about Moonbyul. In her sleep, she heard the sirens, but instead of Hwasa’s body being taken away, this time it was Moonbyul’s. Her eyes were sometimes open and unseeing, sometimes closed, but her face was always drained of any color. She always saw her get covered by the blanket, her face disappearing, and then she was loaded into the ambulance, and the sirens didn’t blare. There were no flashing lights. 

 

There was never any reason to rush for a dead girl.

 

María woke up in a cold sweat, her hand gripping Moonbyul’s tighter. She even checked her pulse––the beeping of the machines not enough to reassure her. 

 

The second day, she didn’t know why, but she was crying. 

 

Dr. Kim sat with her for a moment, handing her a few tissues. 

 

“Why are you crying, María-shi?”

 

María shook her head. She really didn’t know.

 

“You care a lot for Moonbyul-shi. Are you worried?” 

 

I’m terrified, María finally realized. 

 

She nodded her head. 

 

She watched a nurse inject something into Moonbyul’s IV bag, just like she did every few hours. She was too afraid to ask what kind of medications they were giving her and why.

 

“She’s lucky to have you as a roommate,” Dr. Kim said. “And as a friend.” She smiled, and María wondered how she could possibly be smiling right now, but it was Dr. Kim. 

 

When Dr. Kim left, María was alone with her thoughts again. She heard the sirens, the sirens, the si––

 

“You’ve finally connected with someone,” Hwasa said, interrupting María’s downward spiral. She was standing on the other side of the bed staring at her sister. 

 

“Do you have insight into these kinds of things?” María desperately asked. “Do you know if she’ll live?” 

 

“You’ve never asked me something like that before––if I know something someone who is living doesn’t.” 

 

The words punched María in the gut, reminding her all over that yes, Hwasa was there, but she wasn’t really there. She was dead.

 

“I’m sorry,” María quickly said. “I wasn’t thinking. I just––” 

 

“María-ya,” Hwasa said. “You can’t change what happened. And honestly it’s kind of amusing that you think I have any special powers.” She smiled at her sister. 

 

“So you don’t.” The resignation in María’s voice was clear. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Hwasa said. 

 

The nurses kept promising María that Moonbyul would be okay. 

 

“She just has a fever, honey,” one of them told her. “We’re monitoring her and working to bring it down.” 

 

They did check her temperature often, María knew. They did keep giving her medications.

 

But María heard them murmuring. They were wondering if they should transfer Moonbyul to a different department in the hospital. 

 

“She’s not improving,” one of them said. 

 

“Dr. Kim said to keep her here, that it’s a fever, but also something she’s going through internally. Grappling with what brought her here, maybe?” 

 

The other nurse laughed. “Do you really believe in that stuff? She’s malnourished and has a fever. That’s all. If she doesn’t improve soon, she’ll need a feeding tube.” 

 

The other nurse shrugged and turned away. María could tell from her facial expression that she believed what she said. She believed what Dr. Kim told her, so María did too. 

 

On the third night, María fell asleep in the chair, her hand holding Moonbyul’s. 

 

A few hours later, Moonbyul’s eyes fluttered open and she tried to take in her surroundings. There was the steady beeping of the machine connected to her, reading her heartbeat. There was an IV running into the back of her hand. 

 

Then there was María, slumped onto the bed a bit, her hand clasping Moonbyul’s. Before Moonbyul could be too confused about that, she looked up to see a girl who looked identical to María, just a few years younger and wearing a school uniform, standing at the foot of her bed. Her eyes widened in shock. She tried to sit up, but the girl held her hand up, motioning for her to stop. 

 

“So you can see me,” Hwasa said. 

 

“You’re her sister.” Moonbyul’s voice was raspy from days of unuse. “Her twin.”

 

“Yes, I’m Hwasa. It’s nice to formally meet you, Moonbyul-shi.” 

 

“Why… I didn’t know you were really real.” 

 

Hwasa smiled. “You’re the first person other than María to see me. She sees me because we’re twins, and her guilt ties us together.”

 

“Then why do I see you?” 

 

Moonbyul looked down at María’s face, peaceful for the first time since she’d known her, probably only because she was asleep. She took in their interlocked hands.

 

”Is it because María is close to me now?”

 

“No.” Hwasa sighed and paced for a moment, as if she wasn’t sure if she should tell Moonbyul something. Finally, her eyes settled back on the other girl. “You almost died. You can see me because of that.”

 

“What? Why am I here then? And not in the ICU or something?” 

 

Hwasa sighed again. “You woke up. If you didn’t, you were going there tomorrow. María asked me if I have any special powers, and I told her no, because I didn’t want to scare her. The one thing I do know, the one thing I can see, is death.” 

 

“But I’m alive?”

 

“Yes, Moonbyul-shi,” Hwasa said with a smile. “And you’ll stay that way.” 

 

Before Moonbyul could say anything else, a nurse rushed in. 

 

“Moonbyul-shi?” Her face lit up when she saw the girl’s eyes were open. “You’re awake! I was just coming in to give you your medication. Let me get you some water and get the doctor on call.” 

 

The nurse rushed from the room. 

 

“Will you tell María you can see me?” Hwasa asked. 

 

“Should I?” 

 

“It’ll comfort her. Make her feel less alone.” Hwasa moved behind her sister and looked down at her for a moment before looking back up at Moonbyul. “But it’s your choice.” 

 

Before Moonbyul could decide much of anything, the doctor was rushing in, the lights in the infirmary were fully on, and they were checking all sorts of things, asking her too many questions at once. 

 

She started to feel dizzy and closed her eyes. 

 

“Moonbyul-shi?” The doctor gently nudged her. “What are you feeling?”

 

“Dizzy,” she said.

 

He told a nurse to get something and then turned back to her. 

 

“Your fever has gone down, but you’ll need to stay here a while longer.”

 

Before he could say anything else, María bolted upright. When she was Moonbyul’s eyes were open, that she was alert, awake, alive, a smile broke out on her face.

 

It was the first time Moonbyul saw her smile. 

 

“Moonbyulie!” 

 

Moonbyul was surprised at the informality, but smiled and whispered back, “María-ya.”

 

The doctor turned to María. “You’ll need to leave for the night, María-shi. We need to focus on Moonbyul-shi.” Seeing the unease and distrust on her face, he smiled and tried to reassure her. “She’s in good hands with us.” 

 

María didn’t want to let go of her hand. If she did, what if, what if––the sirens were back, blaring louder and louder in her mind. 

 

“I’ll be okay,” Moonbyul said. “Come back in the morning, tell me what I missed.” 

 

Before María could say another word, a nurse was leading her back to her room.

 

She was alone again, Moonbyul’s pale face the only thing on her mind as the sirens got louder and louder.

 

“María-ya.” Hwasa suddenly appeared in front of her. “She really will be okay.” 

 

María sat on her bed, bringing her knees up under her chin. Her lip began to tremble, her eyes started to water. 

 

“Cry, Hwasa encouraged her. “You never really felt it all.” 

 

María looked at Hwasa in confusion. 

 

“My death,” Hwasa said. “Part of you never felt it all. You need to. Start with how you feel for Moonbyul.” 

 

“I don’t want to cry.”

 

“Want and need are different.” 

 

“I don’t want to cry!” María shouted. She threw her pillow at Hwasa, but it went right through her, which somehow horrified María even more. Hwasa really wasn’t there, but she was, but she wasn’t, but she was––

 

“María-shi?” A nurse slowly approached her. “What is it, honey?”

 

“I’m so sorry!” She moved toward her sister, who just stood in the same place. 

 

“It’s not like it hurt,” she said.

 

“But I shouldn’t have! I’m so sorry, Hwasa-ya.” The tears began to roll down her face. 

 

The nurse gently moved her toward her bed, and then somehow María was in it, and then she was swallowing something the nurse gave her, and then drifting to a place where Hwasa was still alive, and Moonbyul was okay, and she didn’t have to cry for anyone. 

 

In that world, she smiled.