Chapter 19: How Many Litres Of Blood Does A Human Have?

The hospital room was stark and sterile, its white walls and floor bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. A faint antiseptic tang hung in the air, mingling with the soft hum of medical equipment tucked against the wall.

Mika sat on the edge of a hospital bed in a private room, his posture slouched, leaning back against the propped-up pillow with a weary look etched across his face. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and his clean uniform, freshly scrubbed by Mulkorr’s acidic embrace, felt out of place amidst the clinical setting.

He’d endured a battery of scans and tests at Charlotte’s insistence, despite his protests, and the exhaustion of humoring her was plain in his half-lidded eyes.

His arms rested loosely at his sides, one hand dangling over the bed’s edge, the other being gently held by a young female doctor who stood beside him, her fingers pressed lightly against his wrist to check his pulse.

The doctor, a woman in her late twenties with neatly tied brown hair and a crisp white coat, moved with practiced precision, but her face betrayed a stark contrast to her professional demeanor.

Her skin was pale, almost ghostly, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Her eyes darted nervously, flickering toward the corner of the room every few seconds, as if drawn by an unseen threat.

The source of her fear was unmistakable.

Charlotte...perched on a chair in the room’s corner, her cross-legged pose deceptively casual. Her pink hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the light, and her smile was bright, almost radiant, but her half-closed blue eyes simmered with a venomous intensity. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze locked on the doctor’s hand where it touched Mika’s, her expression a thin veneer over barely restrained jealousy.

Charlotte’s silence was louder than any shout, her stare a blade that pinned the doctor in place. But Mika, for his part, seemed oblivious to the brewing storm, his tired gaze fixed on the ceiling, one leg bouncing idly as he waited for the ordeal to end.

But Charlotte’s patience finally frayed, and she broke the silence with a single word, her voice sweet but laced with an edge that cut through the room like a whip.

"Hey..." she called, her smile unwavering, though her eyes narrowed further.

The doctor flinched, her head snapping toward Charlotte, her fingers tightening reflexively on Mika’s wrist. She knew exactly who Charlotte was—one of the daughters of the five goddesses, a being whose power and presence commanded awe and fear in equal measure.

Her voice quavered as she responded. "Yes?"

"I’m just wondering..." Charlotte tilted her head, her smile growing sharper, though her tone remained deceptively light. "...is it absolutely necessary for you to hold his hand like that? I mean, taking a pulse seems pretty basic, right? Aren’t there machines for that sort of thing these days? Some fancy gadget that can do it without you...touching him so closely?" Her gaze dropped pointedly to the doctor’s hand, her words slow and deliberate, each one dripping with barely veiled accusation.

"Y-Yeah, it is necessary, I assure you." The doctor swallowed hard, her pulse racing as she nodded quickly, her voice stumbling over itself. "I mean, no matter how many advanced machines we’ve got, sometimes the most basic methods are the most reliable."

"Based on my years of experience, feeling the pulse directly is the best way to get an accurate reading." She forced a shaky smile, her eyes flicking to Charlotte, desperate to defuse the tension. "I promise, I’ve got no other intentions. I’m simply doing my job, checking his vitals. That’s all."

"Oh, I see." Charlotte nodded, her smile softening into something almost amiable, her head bobbing as if she accepted the explanation. "That makes sense. You’re the expert, after all."

The doctor exhaled, a faint sigh of relief escaping her lips, her shoulders sagging as she thought the storm had passed. But before she could relax, Charlotte’s smile returned, sharper than ever, and she leaned forward again, her voice dropping to a chillingly casual tone.

"But since we’re sharing expertise, I’ve got something to add. You probably know this already, being a doctor and all...But I find it fascinating, the average volume of blood in a female’s body is about five liters, right? And it only takes losing, say, two liters for things to get...dicey."

"...Death can come pretty quick after that, especially if the blood’s gushing from somewhere critical."

She paused, her eyes sliding to the scalpel glinting on the tray beside Mika’s bed, her smile unwavering.

"Like, for example, if someone were to accidentally grab that scalpel over there—purely by mistake, of course—and, say, stab themselves in the neck? Right in the carotid artery? And then pull the blade out after going deep enough?"

"...Accidentally, obviously."

She giggled, a sound that was bright but sent ice down the doctor’s spine.

"That person would bleed out in, what, thirty seconds? All that blood, just gone...Brain dead, no chance of saving them, even in a hospital like this one."

Charlotte’s smile widened, her blue eyes gleaming with a bone-chilling intensity, their hue shifting subtly toward pink, a telltale sign of her power stirring.

"I just hope you weren’t lying earlier." She said, her voice almost singsong. "Because accidents like that? They tend to happen...especially to liars, you know."

She then opened her eyes fully, their brightness piercing, a clear warning that teetered on the edge of action, her gaze locking onto the doctor like a missile finding its target.

The doctor froze, her hand still on Mika’s wrist, her trembling now visible, her face ashen. She looked like a cornered animal, her breaths shallow, her eyes darting between Charlotte’s venomous smile and the scalpel, as if it might leap into her hand against her will.

She was on the verge of fainting, her knees wobbling, her grip faltering as panic consumed her, that is until Mika, who’d been half-listening with a bored expression, finally had enough.

With a sigh, he plucked a cotton bundle from the tray beside him and flicked it at Charlotte’s face, the small projectile sailing across the room and smacking her cheek with a soft thwap.

"Ow!" she yelped, her hand flying to her face, her pout instant and dramatic. "That hurts, Mika! What’re you doing, throwing hospital supplies like some delinquent?"

Mika sat up slightly, his tired look sharpening into mild exasperation, his voice casual but firm.

"I’m trying to make you stop scaring the doctor, Charlotte. Look at her...she’s practically on the verge of passing out." He gestured at the doctor, who stood trembling, her eyes wide and glassy, looking like a hamster facing a guillotine. "You’re acting like she’s committing a crime by doing her job."

"What am I supposed to do, Mika? She started it!"

Charlotte shot to her feet, her hands on her hips, her fluster breaking through her earlier menace.

"Right in front of me, she asks you to stick out your tongue, touches your face to check your eyes, and now she’s holding your hand like it’s some romantic moment!"

"...She knows just how much that hurts me, doing it all in my face like that. She’s the one at fault here!"

Mika shook his head, his smirk faint but amused, though his tone held a gentle rebuke.

"You’re way off, Charlotte. How’s it her fault? She’s doing her job, examining me, making sure I’m not about to keel over from whatever you think that accident did to me. It’s not like she’s got powers like you, checking vitals without touching a person." He glanced at the doctor, who was still frozen, her hand now hovering above his wrist, too scared to move. "She’s just a normal doctor, doing normal doctor things. You need to chill."

Charlotte’s pout deepened, her arms crossing tighter, but her eyes softened slightly, a flicker of guilt breaking through her indignation.

"But it’s not fair." She muttered, her voice quieter now, though still insistent. "She gets to touch you all over, and I have to sit here and watch?...That’s torture, Mika. Absolute torture."

Mika’s gaze shifted to her, catching the slight quiver in her throat, the sadness in her eyes that tugged at something deep within him. He couldn’t just brush her off, not when she looked so vulnerable, so he sighed softly and extended his free hand, palm up, his voice casual but warm.

"If you’re so desperate to hold my hand, Charlotte, then come over here. There’s plenty of room for you." He patted the bed’s edge beside him, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Sit here. I’m not going anywhere."

Charlotte’s eyes lit up, her pout vanishing as she sprang from her chair with eager grace, her movements swift and almost childlike. She sat on the bed’s edge, her hip brushing his, careful not to sprawl too close but unable to hide her excitement.

She grabbed his offered hand with both of hers, pulling it to her chest and pressing it tightly against her, his fingers sinking into the softness of her embrace.

Her gaze then flicked to the doctor, a haughty glint in her eyes, her smile triumphant, as if staking a claim no one could challenge.

It was a silent declaration: This is my territory, and you can’t take it.

Mika rolled his eyes, amusement and exasperation crossing his face, and turned to the doctor, his voice light but apologetic.

"I’m sorry about her. She gets worked up in situations like this. Don’t take it to heart, she’s just being dramatic." He gave Charlotte a pointed look, though his smirk betrayed his fondness.

The doctor, still trembling, her hand hovering over Mika’s wrist, nodded frantically, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Of course, of course." She said, her voice high and strained, words tumbling out in a rush. "I understand completely. I know she’s just joking. There’s no way anyone would actually do something drastic over something so small, right? I mean, nobody’s that crazy!"

She laughed, a nervous, brittle sound, her eyes darting to Charlotte, hoping to defuse the tension and in response Mika joined in, his laugh awkward and stilted, his tone almost robotic as he nodded.

"Y-Yeah, exactly....There’s nobody who’d do something like that. S-She’s definitely just joking."

But his words carried a faint hesitation, a crack in his casual facade, and the doctor’s face paled further, her eyes widening as she realized the truth.

...Charlotte was someone who might do something drastic, her earlier threat about scalpels and blood loss wasn’t entirely a jest.

The moment she figured this out, the doctor’s hand jerked back from Mika’s wrist, and she took a shaky step back, then another, her eyes flicking to the scalpel on the tray, then to the window, as if she feared she might "accidentally" hurl herself from the hospital roof under Charlotte’s influence...