toshi's day off

Toshi’s day off begins the way it has for the last five years. Dawn approaches when Eguchi shows up, puffy-eyed and grumpy. Toshi gives her a quick update. She nods like she’s listening. He pretends like he won’t have to send a detailed report later anyway. She walks in. He walks out. He goes home to see his dogs, Fenrir and Cookie.

His body demands sleep, but the dogs DEMAND freedom. Thus, defying biology itself, he takes them to the beach for a morning jog. Half an hour later, he sits on a log that’s already dented, then smokes, watching the sunrise. Fenrir and Cookie chase each other at the shore. He takes a picture.

To spice things up a bit, he gives Fujinomiya’s playlist a listen. It’s a mix of classical piano, guitar, and a few movie soundtracks. She probably played it safe. Still, centuries-old music, a beach, and an early fall sunrise aren’t a bad combination. Not at all.

***

Koharu starts the day with an aesthetic photo of the sunrise through the window for her private collection. Now that she knows that Nagumo is good at photography, she has to win.

Since he mentioned that he’s off today, it means that she has time to prepare for their next battle. For now, Koharu scrolls down her Sharky album. He’s a silver arowana she got on a whim, and who has now destroyed two tanks and a half (it’s complicated), but the 4,000 G aquarium in her room should suffice. Sharky is her best friend. Her ferrets, python, giant millipede and isopod colony are close candidates, though. God damn it she has to work on her issue with the rule of thirds.

She waits.

And waits.

If she presses the ‘help’ button, she’ll lose, but her stomach is slowly devouring her. She refused to eat last night because the food looked sullen, but… well. Browsing local restaurants was a harrowing experience. Soujiro turned off his phone so she’d stop calling him. Thus, there is nothing to do but wait. Or lose.

Koharu rolls towards the coral suitcase–which Nagumo graciously moved to her bedside last night–so she can give herself the slightest dash of blush. Some eyeliner. A bit of lip gloss. A quick comb. She doesn’t use filters because her followers value her authenticity, so this’ll do.

Her morning selfie’s caption is: Life right now is endless pain and suffering!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ How’s everyone else doing!?

The very first response is: My life is also endless pain and suffering, but I’m not a millionaire nepo baby. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Koharu likes it passively-aggressively. Years ago, she replied STAY MAD, POOR to one of her haters, but her manager, mom, Kerochan and one of the gardeners begged her to delete that. Haters love to bring it up, but Koharu has masterfully turned the situation in her favor by reframing it as a stepping stone in her wellness journey. Her manager also forced her to reveal that she donates a sizable chunk of her income to marine conservation and research, which, admittedly, has done wonders to her PR. It feels self-congratulatory and stupid to make that public, but oh, well…

The door creaks open. Koharu hasn’t finished adjusting her hair when the braided girl from yesterday–Dr. Shimazu–peeks inside. The dark circles around her eyes make her look like a red panda. It’s kind of cute. “Good morning,” she mumbles. Once she confirms that the room is Soujiroless, she walks in with a tray in hand. “I brought breakfast so you can… so you can eat before we begin. The checkup.” She switches to Hyojungo halfway through.

Koharu stares at the mold-green vegetables, at the gray, shriveled fish, and white rice that severely lacks poof. The miso soup looks passable, though, so she goes with that. “I’d like to speak with the chef.”

“Um… beg your pardon?”

“The chef. Later, though.”

“Chef…”

After a sip, Koharu tries, “The cook?”

“There’s no, um. Sometimes the janitors help with that, but. Most of the time, we just get it from the kitchen or townspeople or. The, um. I don’t know how to explain it. Is there… something wrong with the food?”

“It looks sullen,” Koharu replies.

“Oh.” Dr. Shimazu sits on the stool Nagumo used yesterday, though she has to adjust its height. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell the… cook about it.”

“Good. I like your last name.”

Dr. Shimazu fidgets with the hem of her coat for a while. “Once you finish eating, we can start the checkup if you want.” Rude. Why ignore the compliment? “Did you sleep well, Ms. Fujinomiya?”

“Not really.”

“I’m–I’m sorry to hear that. Toshi, um, Nagumo should’ve been…” Dr. Shimazu trails off, pulling at her sleeve. “He’s a bit hard to deal with sometimes, so I understand if you weren’t too comfortable, but Eguchi is very nice and she’ll be helping you today, so please don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

“Where’s my bathroom?”

“Oh, I can take you there.”

“Where is it?”

“Would it… maybe… can we please do the checkup now so Yuu can take you? I mean Eguchi.”

This is going to be one of ‘those’ days, huh? “Fine.”

Dr. Shimazu is, in many ways, Nagumo’s opposite. Unfortunately, this also includes checkups; where she draws such violence from such a tiny body is beyond Koharu. By the time it ends, even her eyelashes hurt. Eguchi Yuu, the other nurse, finishes her morning rounds before introducing herself. Her blond, dyed her is tainted by brown roots, but her voice and her face are like honey.

After receiving the instructions, as she takes Koharu to her bathroom, Eguchi hums. “That sounds very nice,” Koharu says. “Do you sing often?”

“It does? Aww, thank you, sweetie. I do it for fun, but that’s it.”

The only bad thing about it is that it’s a Kerochan song.

Moments later, they arrive at their destination, and a grim reality surfaces. A harrowing one, even.

She doesn’t have a bathroom.

She has to share one.

Not only that, but there are no bathtubs. Just… stalls with buckets of water.

Endless pain… and suffering…

“Let me know if you need anything, sweetiehhff,” Eguchi says before she fails to hold back a yawn. “If you need any help, I’m here.”

Regardless, Koharu has no second thoughts. No. Second. Thoughts. This is what they call a humbling experience and an opportunity for growth. Besides, the place is otherwise empty, and she also had staff assisting her with these things at the Tokyo hote–hospital.

…oh, dear. Has the situation devolved to a point where that other place feels like a vacation spot by comparison?

No matter.

“Will you help me bathe?” Asks Koharu.

“Of course! You brought your own stuff, right?” After Koharu nods, Eguchi adds, “Good, because the soap they give us is terrible… aaand we forgot to bring yours. No biggie, I’ll get it for you. Where is it?”

“The salmon suitcase. My lucky stones are on the magenta one, so bring those, too.”

Eguchi returns with the aforementioned items, immediately making her Koharu’s favorite. She has Eguchi place her stones in a circle around their chosen tower stall. They’re alone, so it should be fine. So far, no other nurse had ever agreed to do this, so Koharu hasn’t felt safe while bathing in days. Eguchi is the best thing to ever happen to her. Ever.

They’re in the middle of her bath with LUKEWARM WATER when a spider descends upon them. It looks cute, but Eguchi doesn’t seem to share this sentiment. Her screech matches the elevator’s to an impressive degree. She skids backwards, trips on Koharu’s lucky stone #6, then falls flat on the ground like a pancake.

While this happens, the spider continues its slow descent.

“Are you alright?” says Koharu, who twists on the plastic chair at the stall.

“...no…”

“Did something break?”

“...no… maybe… do you have your phone in hand…”

Koharu glances at her luggage, easily within stretching range. “Yeah.”

“Please call the doc… and tell her… that I’m sorry…”

“H-huh!? Are you dying!? Nooo!”

But Eguchi recites a number, so she’ll probably be fine. Shivering, Koharu makes the call. Anything for her favorite nurse. Dr. Shimazu has to borrow Koharu’s wheelchair to drag Eguchi away. She almost trips on Koharu’s lucky stone #8. Almost. 

With surprising decor, Dr. Shimazu (plus wheelchair) returns to finish washing Koharu, help her dress, then roll her back to her room. All the while, she has her phone wedged between her shoulder and her cheek, making one call after the other. One of them is for Eguchi’s husband. One of them is for the so-called other clinic. The other one…

“Toshi, hi.” Dr. Shimazu laughs nervously. “You already know why I’m calling, right… yeah… sorry… Eguchi twisted her ankle… long story… n-no, please don’t be mad, it’s just… you know, everyone’s so busy… yeah… no, I’ll just go and come back because… yeah, that… but someone has to cover this place for the meantime. Ah, he said that he can help the day after tomorrow maybe… yeah, she’s still there… really? You would? Thank you…” Another nervous laugh. “We’ll get that espresso machine, I promise. Soon. Thanks again.” As soon as she hangs up, she sniffles.

Dr. Shimazu sniffles again when she fails to roll her back into the bed. If Koharu could guess, she’d say Dr. Shimazu isn’t taller than 155… 150… she’s very short is the point. She’s also built like a spiderweb. Her superhuman strength comes and goes.

Koharu sits on the wheelchair, staring at the unmade bed, the floor, the moldy walls. Anything but a doctor clearly holding back tears. “Dr. Shimazu?”

“Y-yes?”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was an accident. Just… if anyone asks, Eguchi slipped on the floor. Not the rocks.”

“They’re not rocks. They’re stones that channel dark energy.”

“That’s… that’s nice…”

Koharu’s own throat feels right. “But they unleashed it on poor Ms. Eguchi. And they’re still…” As she trails off, they exchange glances.

They left the stones at the bathing room.