difficulty eating
1385 Words
Archen stared at his reflection in the mirror in disbelief. After the horrific events he'd experienced, he should have passed on to the afterlife. But instead of dying, he'd woken up in the body of a wealthy teenager, the fiancée of a cold businessman.
He understood this fact from the unfamiliar memories now filling his head.
Archen knew he should be grateful for the chance to live. But at the same time, he couldn't ignore the fact that his once simple and peaceful life had now turned into something far more complicated.
Fiancé?
He'd never even considered being in a relationship with anyone, let alone engaged, and even more so, to a man...!?
That cruel life had ended... but a new, far crueler life had begun.
A life of luxury certainly sounded worthy of gratitude, didn't it?
But if he had to live it in the body of a troubled teenager, with enemies at every corner, it all seemed pointless.
He should have been reborn in a better, simpler, yet carefree life.
Yes... that was how it should be, wasn't it?
Facing his fate, Archen could only ask himself, what did he truly deserve?
Sigh…
Archen washed his face with water, trying to clear his confused mind. He tried to accept his new situation, while also being grateful for the second chance he had been given.
“Xiose Archen Valerioz…”
He stated the full name of the owner of the body he now inhabited. From that last name alone, Archen could already tell that this body belonged to no ordinary person.
Perhaps he was now in the body of someone with great influence. Valerioz was no ordinary surname—it carried weight and power.
Furthermore, the memories he received, the expensive vehicles used in illegal racing, and the way people viewed him. Everything pointed to one thing, status.
Archen began to wonder… what kind of family did this body's owner belong to?
...
Ruins were everywhere. The once-sturdy buildings had now been reduced to piles of stone. Workers were busy rebuilding in every corner. Heavy equipment roared, destroying what remained.
From the hospital window on the top floor, Archen watched in silence.
The VIP room felt as spacious as a dream home, furnished with plush chairs and a refrigerator neatly positioned in the corner. Archen felt a strange sense of comfort, as if he weren't in a hospital, but in a private residence.
In the past, when he was ill, he had only been able to visit a small hospital on the outskirts. The room was cramped, filled with seven or eight hard gurneys, with no pillows or blankets. There were no comforts, let alone personal amenities.
It was a stark contrast to the place he now occupied. If given the choice, Archen might have wanted to stay longer in this room.
But he knew that was impossible.
Neither his old life nor his current one was entirely his own. Once he was shackled by poverty, now he was under the control of others.
Archen sighed softly. His life felt chaotic. He had never truly been free, neither in the past nor in the present.
Would his fate always be this way?
I hoped not.
Creak
Archen turned toward the door as a nurse entered, carrying a tray of food and personal hygiene supplies. It was time to clean up.
Several other nurses assigned specifically to him immediately assisted. They carefully removed his hospital gown and then cleaned his body with warm, water-soaked cloths.
Once everything was done, the nurse arranged the food and medication on a small table beside the bed.
“If you need anything, please press the button on the back of the gurney,” the nurse said, pointing in the direction indicated.
“Excuse me.”
The nurses left the room after completing their duties, leaving Archen to enjoy his time undisturbed. Even the guards at the door remained on standby without entering.
Cough.
Archen coughed softly.
“I can’t eat it…” he muttered softly.
He put the spoon back in its place, then reached for the glass of water and drank it along with the medicine he was supposed to swallow.
A few minutes later, the nurse returned to Archen’s room to retrieve the food tray. When she saw that nothing had been touched, she frowned.
“Why aren’t you eating?” she asked.
Archen shook his head slowly.
“That’s enough… I can’t eat any more,” he replied softly.
The nurse nodded in understanding, then left with her colleague, leaving the room once again in silence.
Nighttime.
Archen woke with nausea stabbing through his throat. Without delay, he rushed to the bathroom and vomited.
However, all that came up was water mixed with medicine and pieces of carrot that he hadn’t even had a chance to chew properly.
His stomach ached, and his head throbbed.
This was nothing new for him. Even in his old body, the same thing often happened—due to malnutrition, he couldn't consume large amounts of food without vomiting.
While still living in poverty, Archen used to skip meals for days.
Even when he did eat, he relied solely on bread and chocolate milk. His stomach had become accustomed to this pattern—to the point of rejecting any food that wasn't made from flour.
That's why his body used to look thin, yet still naturally muscular. He also often suffered from low blood pressure due to overexertion from work.
However, Archen never really cared about his physical condition. For him, all that mattered was money.
And now, after experiencing the effects firsthand, he began to realize… how uncomfortable it was.
•••
The next morning, Archen was taken to the garden by several guards on his own orders. He felt fed up with being indoors for so long.
Now, he sat under the shade of a shady tree, gazing out at the hospital courtyard filled with flowering plants and greenery.
Slowly, Archen began to adjust to his new body, a body that actually rejected many things, including food.
Because of this habit, the doctor had to warn him. For the sake of his health, he was asked to finish his food, or at least try to chew more.
But for Archen, it wasn't easy.
It wasn't just a reluctance, but a genuine inability. Even swallowing a single mouthful of porridge was difficult. So how could he possibly finish a full portion of hospital food?
Archen drank more water than food—which was why the doctor reprimanded him. Water was good, but the body still needed nourishment. At least, that's what the doctor always said.
"I heard you weren't eating much."
Archen reflexively turned to the left when the voice greeted him.
The man he had seen on his first day of consciousness was now standing beside him, dressed in a neat suit. It was hard to tell whether he had just gotten home from work or was about to leave.
Archen fell silent.
Silence enveloped them both. The man beside Archen sighed softly when he received no response.
"Why the silence?"
Archen remained silent.
“Huh… stubborn.”
“Sorry.”
The man turned his head, frowning slightly.
“What?”
“I can’t do it.”
“Can’t what?”
Archen lowered his head, his voice trailing off.
“Eat… I can’t eat much. If I force myself, my stomach burns… and I’ll throw up.”
The man stared at Archen deeply. There was no sign of a lie on his face. But still… he found it hard to believe. This boy in front of him lied too often.
“You have to eat.”
Archen fell silent.
“…or I’ll force you.”
The silence fell again. His fiancé?
No… this man looked more like a father.
“May I ask a question?”
“Tell me.”
“How old are you?”
The man frowned. He had clearly heard the question, but it still felt strange.
“…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”
“Thirty-four.”
Archen raised his head.
“Huh?”
“Thirty-four years,” the man repeated, his voice slightly strained. His gaze was sharp, as if disturbed by Archen’s overly obvious reaction.
- Writer
