are you feeling lonely, ms. fujinomiya?

The pizzas arrive an hour and a half after he orders them. Since this is technically his day off, Toshi picks them up without taking his break; he’d been filing reports in Mrs. Gouda’s stead anyway. While an auxiliary nurse is supposed to show up with Dr. Shimazu sometime during the afternoon, he knows better than to have any hope.

He also knows better than to expect peace and quiet for long. He hasn’t even reached the front desk when Mrs. Matsueda rushes to him. That’s the word–rushes. “Hi, Toshi!”

“Hello, Mrs. Matsueda.” He keeps walking.

So does she, matching his pace. “How are you on this fine afternoon?”

“Wonderful, Mrs. Matsueda. Is there anything I could assist you with on this fine afternoon?”

“Oh, no. Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“I see.”

They’re now waiting for the elevator. Not too far away lurks Mr. Oda. “However, I couldn’t help but notice…”

“Yes…”

“...that you seem to be carrying three boxes of pizza. That’s terrible for your cholesterol, young man.”

“I agree, Mrs. Matsueda. I would never recommend this to anyone. I’m glad you’ve been paying attention to our seminars.”

“Just give her a slice,” says Mr. Oda, lurking from the doorframe leading to his room. “And give me one. Maybe two.”

“Me too!” Calls out Mr. Sato from the room at the corner. Needless to say, he’s also been lurking.

And thus Toshi gets mugged by elder citizens. Mr. Oda gets the gluten free one. Mr. Sato takes a slice from the vegetarian one. Since Mrs. Matsueda actually takes her pills, he lets her choose. There is a reason why the pizza took so long. “Please remember to finish it before the other staff arrives,” he tells them as they feast on their catch. “No ‘saving’ for later.”

Fujinomiya is, to no one’s surprise, on her phone once he reaches her room. As if on cue, her greeting is: “The socket’s too far away. Help me charge this.”

“Of course, Ms. Fujinomiya. Help me hold this. Please.”

While he connects her phone to the wall, Fujinomiya grips the pizza box. Her nails were pink just a few minutes ago. They’re now cerulean. While she thinks he’s not looking, she leans forward to sniff the top of the box.

“...you can just look inside, you know.”

She jumps. “I–I was just… okay.” She takes a peek. “Pepperoni?”

“No.”

“Ham? Crabs?”

“No, what the–no. Margarita. I know you’re a vegetarian.”

At last, Fujinomiya opens the box. “So… you read my bio…” She takes a slice, then wipes non-existing grease with a tissue. “Did you follow me?”

“I read it, yes. I don’t follow you, no.”

“Why?”

“No thanks. Will you only take one slice? It’s not fatty, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

After a moment, Fujinomiya takes another slice, then hands the box back to him. She’s pouting now. It’s the first time Toshi sees anyone do this in real life, and probably the last. “Do you follow Kerochan?”

“Who?”

The pout deflates. “Good. Forgiven.” Then she takes a bite.

Well then. “Hope you like it,” Toshi says as he turns around. “I’ll be back for your afternoon checkup in a bit.”

“Oh. Wait. You’re… leaving?”

Toshi holds back a sigh. “What do you need, Ms. Fu–”

“Stay.”

He’s beginning to realize that he’ll have to get used to that nasty little habit. That this patient requires more patience and effort than ten elders combined. Not wants–requires. “If,” he says, then gives her some time in case she wants to fucking interrupt him again. “...there is anything else you need, let me know. I’ll be back as soon as I finish eating.”

“Why not eat here?”

Since he’s been running on a cup of instant ramen, a cigarette and a power nap for the last twenty-eight hours, it takes a moment to connect two and two. “Are you feeling lonely, Ms. Fujinomiya?” Since she doesn’t respond, he adds, “Regardless, it wouldn’t be professional to–”

“You’re not professional anyway. Sit down and eat with me.”

The thing is, he’ll only have to stand her for three months or so. Her poor employees back at Tokyo have to stand her every day. So it could be worse. Toshi replies: “Under one condition.”

“Condition?"

“Don’t interrupt me again.”

“...I don’t do that…”

“You won’t do that, no. Deal?”

Fujinomiya watches him for an uncomfortable amount of time, then says, “Fine. But it’s not a true deal without a handshake.”

“I won’t…” He trails off. It’s a bad decision and he knows it, but does “know” it? Does anyone know anything? Can knowledge truly be objective if it’s filtered through subjective perception? His last two neurons are dissolving into the ether. Come to think of it, Fujinomiya Koharu is so profoundly abnormal that this might be the only chance to prune that habit out of her. Reluctantly, he reaches out to her.

When she takes his hand, instead of shaking it, Fujinomiya notes, “Cold. Knew it…”

Well then. Wait, was the ‘handshake’ just an excuse to…?

Fujinomiya lets go, then takes a nip of her pizza slice. Toshi is too baffled to say anything else, so he bites into his, too. Since he had to adjust it to what he deduced would be her preference based on her chart and social media, it tastes like nothing, and since she’s having him waste his time, he rolls the slice to eat it like a taco.

“Sit,” Fujinomiya says. “You’re tired.”

He does, on the stool, mostly because he’s suddenly, inexplicably dizzy. Toshi fails to blink it back.

“The pizza’s good. A bit salty and greasy, but that’s fine. I get it’s cold because it’s from the other town, so obviously it took hours to get here and stuff. By the way, since Dr. Shimazu had to leave, I told Soujiro to show up instead. I’ll tell him to help you do nurse things.”

Toshi hears her but he doesn’t listen to her.

“By the way, do you know any hot single girls in the area? Just to clarify, they’re not for me. They’re for Souji… Nagumo?”

He runs his hand down his face. “Sorry. Excuse me. You were saying?”

Fujinomiya watches him, wide-eyed. “I thought you died.”

“I didn’t die, no.”

“That’s not good.”

“That I didn’t die?”

“You have to sleep,” she says. “Tell me what to do and I’ll have Soujiro do it. You can take a nap.”

As she utters this nonsense, Toshi eats another pizza taco. Water would be nice. “Trust me, I’ll take one as soon as I’m off the clock. Please don’t tell an untrained civilian to do medical work. Thanks.”

“What if I use the wheelchair while you use this bed to sleep?”

“Do you want me to lose my job?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she says. “Come on, hurry up. I’ll stand guard. Or, well, sit guard. Get the wheelchair.”

The worst part is how tempting that sounds. The spot he used to nap at got taken over by Fujinomiya’s luggage, so he hasn’t been able to set up a new place yet. Now that he’s sitting, it feels as though the world is a giant, warm blanket. “I’ll pass.”

“Yeah. You’ll pass out. Do you know what microsleeps are?”

“I don’t do that.”

“You just did! You just did while I was talking!”

It’s not entirely implausible nor would it be the first time, but her pointing it out annoys him for some reason. “Well, sorry for my rudeness.”

Fujinomiya leans forward. Toshi has to bite back a curse word when she tugs at his sleeve. Needless to say, that jolts him awake. “Sleep,” she demands.

While she pulls, Toshi eats another pizza taco. She’s not showing any signs of pain. If anything, such liveliness is a good sign, however bizarre and intrusive. All he knows about her is that she’s a vegetarian, told the poors to stay mad, had an extremely stupid accident, and is a massive brat. Oh, and she’s an actress. And sings. And… livestreams? Come to think of it, this is her second workplace violation today. Maybe he should stop her. “Ms. Fujinomiya, please stop manhandling me. Think about how bad this would look if we were the opposite gender.”

“Excuse you, I’d be a very attractive man.”

“That’s… not the point.”

“What if you die from exhaustion?” She asks. “Like in the news.”

“And what do you care if–” He clears his throat. His mind is like letter soup that was left under the sun for three days.

“Because–because–it’s my fault.”

As she lets go, Toshi glances at her from the corners of his eyes. She holds two pizza crusts with one hand, picks her blanket with the other.

“You said you covered for Dr. Shimazu yesterday, and today was your day off, but… you-know-what happened. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone if you take a nap.”

He reaches out a hand. “Give me those.” She hands him the crusts, which he tosses into the empty box before closing it. “One, I’m used to it. Two, I don’t mind. Three… well, yeah, what happened today was your fault, but you couldn’t have known about Dr. Shimazu’s phobia, and we always have issues with Eguchi enabling patients anyway. I’ll uh…” Toshi has to rub his temple so words make sense again. “I’ll eat well, drink well, get a lot of sleep. I’ll do that once I’m home. Don’t worry.”

“Promise?”

He nods.

“And if one of the other doctors spontaneously combusts? Will you have to cover that shift again?”

“I mean.”

“Is it always like this?”

“Not always, no.” They don’t always get celebrities that hog more attention than the rest of the patients combined, but he doesn’t tell her that. “The neighboring town had an accident last week, so there’s been a lot of back and forth. Speaking of, is there any particular reason why you transferred here? Here, of all places?”

“Secret,” she replies.

“I see.”

“But I can tell you if you tell me why you’re here.”

He shrugs. “Someone has to.”

“Why not someone else? You said you weren’t born here.”

“I don’t mind, and I like it here.”

“Well, then I like it here, too. It’s right by the sea, surrounded by foliage, with that cliff on the side. Which reminds me, I want to go there once I get better.”

“Sure,” he replies. “We can take patients there with enough supervision. But…” That still doesn’t answer his question: why here? Well, it’s none of his business.

His phone rings. Toshi drops it as he tries to pick up the call. “That’s Soujiro’s number,” Fujinomiya states as she leans to–

“Don’t.” Toshi puts an arm in front of her because she reaches for it. “You’ll hurt yourself. Be careful.”

“...fine.”

Toshi leaves the room as he picks up the call like this isn’t Fujinomiya’s assistant he’s talking to. “What?”

“Oh, wow,” is Hino Soujiro’s response. “Sorry to… bother? There’s no one at the front desk, so this old lady told me to call you. Fuji told me to get gift baskets for everyone, but I don’t know how many ‘everyone’ is. I brought fifty. Where do I put them?”

“...WHAT.”