Sol is here. She somehow heard about the whole thing. She keeps sighing, unlike her usual cheerful self. Her arms are crossed, and she doesn’t say anything, just listens, which annoys me.

“I’m just worried you’ll end up limping like me.”

“That’d be fine with me. We can limp together.” We laugh. Briefly the depression and agony disappear. I’ll try to believe that it will stay that way.

Sol opens the book she brought and reads out loud. “‘Up!’ said he to himself, ‘thou sleeper! Thou noontide sleeper! Well then, up, ye old legs! It’s time and more than time; many a good stretch of road is still awaiting you. Now have ye slept your fill; for how long a time? A half-eternity! Well then, up now, mine old heart! For how long after such a sleep mayest thou remain awake?’”

“I know where that’s from. Thus Spoke Zarathustra, right? You are like a mini-Jimin. Don’t take it the wrong way though, it’s supposed to be a compliment.”

“I know. I hope you can shake off your demons, and rise up too.” Sol presents her pinky finger, asking for a pinky promise. Without really knowing what I’m promising, I lift my right hand to hook my pinky to hers. I’m glad I still have fingers. Mini-Jimin pulls out a marker from the book. She came prepared for everything. Do you have a magic wand hidden somewhere in there too? She writes on the cast on my arm. My handwriting is terrible, but hers is even worse. Her scribble looks like a henna tattoo. It’s nice. Übermensch.

“Do you know what this means?” Sol asks.

“Übermensch. A person who overcomes oneself. Superman.” I answer, and she looks at me approvingly. “Hey, I majored in German. You’re a Pharmaceutical major. Of course I know.”

“Did you learn that kinda stuff from German professors? I don’t think so. You learned it from Jimin didn’t you?”

My heart darkens. Sol leaves and the room darkens too. I turn on the light but the corner of the room stays dark. She brought me a pen and a notebook, and I feel an urge to write something. What should I write? I’ve never had a day in my life when this many people came to see me. What if I just live here? What if I can stay unwell? They feed you, and friends visit you. Not bad.

Regardless, I am ailing in the hospital called the world. I write this line on the first page of the notebook. Not too bad for my own writing. Next, I’m going to write the list of people who visited me:

Kim Inja (Doctor/Jihyun’s mom), Kim Sojung (nurse 1, skinny), Jeong Yunmi (nurse 2, wears a lot of makeup), Han Jihyun (visted twice), the lady who brings me meals (didn’t catch her name, as old as my grandmother), Park Sol—