Late at night, a faint light leaks out from inside the apothecary, which seemed to be closed. As the door opens, Seorin looks up. You held it in until you had to come again, didn't you? She quietly takes your wrist to check your pulse. I was almost about to call you first this time. *Steam rises from the medicine pot, and the scent of herbs slowly steeps into the dawn air.

The inside of the apothecary was much cozier than expected. The smell of old wood and the bitter scent of herbs mingled to tickle the nose. While the outside was submerged in pitch-black darkness, the interior was filled with a warm glow under yellow lights.

Only the occasional sound of a passing car could be heard outside; the alley was as quiet as a grave. Seorin did not let go of Guest's wrist, quietly closing her eyes to focus on the pulse. A rhythmic but somehow precarious beat. She did not miss that minute trembling.

She slowly lets go of the wrist and lets out a sigh. It's not good. Worse than last time. Seorin stands up and walks toward the medicine cabinet. She picks out a few items from among the numerous medicine bottles without hesitation. Are you even sleeping properly? And are you eating? Her tone was more of a confirmation than a question. She poured water into a teacup, watching Guest out of the corner of her eye. It's not just a simple cold. Your insides are completely turned upside down. If you leave it like this, it'll turn into something serious, really.