The dorm mother could still recall, even now, the very first time she laid eyes on Dream Weaver.
A girl with a mess of short, black hair stood at the entrance, clutching a backpack stuffed to the seams.
Her face was expressionless as she looked at the dorm mother and spoke, her voice flat.
"I heard the rent here is cheap. Do you still have any rooms available?"
The dorm mother found it hard to believe that this young girl hadn't heard the other rumors when she'd been asking around about cheap places.
This apartment was the closest one to the hospital.
The people who lived here were all terminal patients who couldn't afford their hospital bills, just barely clinging to life in this place.
People came and went; some were lucky enough to get better and leave, but far more either couldn't keep up with the medical costs anymore, or simply ended up dying right there in the building.
Apart from the despairing patients themselves and their families, no one in their right mind would want to live in such an ill-omened place.
Assuming that Dream Weaver had run away from home and was just looking for a cheap place to crash temporarily, the dorm mother quickly ushered her to the room, gently urging her that there was no problem with her family that couldn't be solved by talking.
Above all, she should call her parents first, just to let them know she was safe and not to worry.
This was no place for a child, the dorm mother thought sincerely.
But Dream Weaver simply handed over a notice, calm as could be. It listed a patient's name along with a mountain of medical bills.
"Family members of critical patients are allowed to live here, right?"
This girl, who looked like she'd barely just graduated middle school, repeated herself in a tone so flat it was chilling.
"So, is there still a room available or not?"
The dorm mother had never met a girl like this. She didn't have any of the usual characteristics you'd expect from someone her age.
Shaken by the shock of it, the dorm mother didn't press any further.
She was afraid that pushing for more answers would only cause the child more pain. She simply went ahead and helped Dream Weaver complete the move-in paperwork.
Back then, the folks in the apartment weren't as familiar with each other as they were now.
Everyone was just teetering on the edge of life and death; maybe you wouldn't even see them again tomorrow, so what was the point of getting close?
So Dream Weaver's arrival didn't stir anyone. She just moved in quietly, and then the next morning, she was out running.
Maybe it was because elderly people sleep lightly.
Even though the time Dream Weaver went out for her morning exercise was, strictly speaking, the dead of night when everyone was fast asleep, the dorm mother would still be woken by the sound of her leaving.
Time and again, curiosity got the better of her.
Why did that middle school girl have to go out and train so early every day, and then come back so late?
It was almost like she was training outside for the entire day.
Occasionally, the dorm mother caught glimpses of the groceries Dream Weaver bought. It was always cheap stuff like bean sprouts—nothing that could possibly fuel such a huge daily energy drain.
So, one day, the dorm mother deliberately made a little extra dinner.
When Dream Weaver got back from training and hadn't had time to cook yet, she knocked on her door.
To be honest, that was the first time the dorm mother had ever seen anyone eat so fast.
It was like she couldn't feel temperature at all; she just shoveled everything into her stomach in one continuous motion.
People living in this apartment rarely had such appetites. When you thought about the possibility of not seeing tomorrow, who could really eat?
If eating with gusto was a sign of vitality, then the dorm mother hadn't seen that kind of life force in a very long time.
Quietly watching Dream Weaver finish her meal, the dorm mother handed her a handkerchief and asked softly.
"I've noticed you've been leaving early and coming back late these past few days. Are you busy with something?"
Having just received the kindness of a meal, Dream Weaver wasn't about to refuse. She casually wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and answered.
"I have to train. And if I can find one, a part-time job."
"Train?"
"I'm going to pass the entrance exam for Central Tracen, and become a Racing Uma Musume."
She paused for a moment, as if hesitating about something, before continuing to explain after a little while.
"No matter how much I save, the money in my bank account will run out someday. Before that day comes, I have to become a Racing Uma Musume and start winning races."
"That's the only way my mom can stay in the hospital peacefully and wait for a miracle."
Just hearing it was enough to make you hold your breath. The dorm mother couldn't help but press further.
"But what if you don't pass? Have you tried looking into social welfare or assistance?"
It was a question born from genuine concern, but Dream Weaver had clearly already thought this through.
She started gathering up her bowls and chopsticks to wash them, walking as she spoke matter-of-factly.
"I will pass."
"As for asking for help... I'll think about that when I can't go on anymore."
The dorm mother realized that Dream Weaver didn't seem very good at accepting help.
Her voice had turned stiff when she said that part.
At that moment, she suddenly understood why the girl wasn't as cold as she'd been at their first meeting, and why she'd patiently explained things this time.
Was it because of this meal...?
From that day on, the dorm mother would often find excuses to bring Dream Weaver dinner.
On one hand, watching her eat with such gusto made the apartment, usually thick with the air of death, feel a little more alive.
On the other, she genuinely wanted to help this girl who was so bad at asking for it.
Once, then twice. As time went on, the other residents gradually started to notice this girl whose aura was so completely different from the apartment's.
She didn't carry the familiar stillness of death that permeated the place; instead, she radiated a constant, powerful desire to keep living, a desperate hunger for it.
Her mother meant that much to her, enough to dictate her very will to survive.
To keep herself alive, this girl, who'd grown up in an orphanage, was struggling with everything she had, just like she had in a previous life.
The people living in the apartment were burdened by heavy medical costs, and the treatment process was grueling.
But coming back and occasionally seeing this girl fighting tooth and nail for her own survival, somehow, the doubts about continuing their own treatments gradually faded away.
If a girl like her was fighting so hard to live, how could we even think of giving up so easily?
This was probably the biggest change Dream Weaver brought to the apartment after moving in.
Influenced by her, many who had started to resign themselves to their fate slowly found the courage to want to live again. And to give back to the girl who had brought them hope, they offered whatever help they could.
To outsiders, this place probably looked no different than before, still reeking of that unbearable stench of death. But to the people who actually lived there, they knew that something had truly changed.
After hearing this story, Symboli Rudolf let out a deep breath, a strange emotion stirring within her.
So that was it...
So from way back then, you were already saving people in your own way?
Now, finally, Symboli Rudolf understood why the people here were so worried about Dream Weaver. She also finally understood why she herself was so reluctant to leave this place.
Amidst the feeling of admiration, she didn't forget the second reason for her visit. So, she asked tentatively.
"Would it be alright... if I took a look inside her room?"
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.