>>5832827“But going down this line of thinking, you're forgetting something important.”
“What's that?” you ask, confused. “If we can still go out and help, we should.”
“Yes. But not to the point we endanger ourselves.” he says, tapping you on the forehead with the broken ends of the pencil he'd just snapped. “If you're laid up due to Burnout from overwork, how many people can you help then? How many did you save, while you've been in that healing pod for the last eleven hours?”
“Uhh, well...” you reply, wanting to argue against him but having no logical answer.
“As beings with the power to save lives, we must achieve balance.” he says, taking the broken half of one pencil and balancing it perpendicular on his index finger. “Every moment not spent helping, someone else will be dying. But others will ALWAYS be dying. You have to take some time for yourself as well, time to rest and relax, not worrying about the fates of others. Tell me, when was the last time you left this ship to just... Be? Not for training, or to go and support your family or others. But to just be by yourself, allowing your body and mind to rest? To do something you enjoy.”
“Something I enjoy?” you mutter, wondering what he means by that. If you're not training, you are either off on another helping mission as a Darkmoon Knightess or off healing others. And if you're not doing any of that you are either bathing, helping your younger siblings out while your mother wasn't here, or sleeping. Which you tell him, Dr. White sighing out. But it doesn't sound tired, it sounds more... Sad. As if he's seeing something you aren't.
“Very well. For your Burnout, I'm writing you a prescription. You must follow this every single day, no matter what's going on.” he tells you, taking the half a pencil and writing in common on a notepad. “Twice a day for thirty minutes each, or once a day for an entire hour, you are to do something for yourself. And yourself only.”
“But-!” you start, Dr. White flicking the pencil half at your forehead in annoyance. You stop talking, letting it hit you on the nose as he opens the drawer, taking another out as he continues writing and speaking.
“Every. Single. Day. One hour, not necessarily contiguous but in no smaller increments than thirty minutes.” he continues, his tone brooking no arguments. “No training, no healing, no going out on those missions with your necklace or tending to your siblings. This time is for you and you alone.”
“But, if I can't do all that, what....” you ask him, feeling lost. “Without that, what do I do?”
-Saiyan Conqueror Quest 206 Epilogue III End-
