soujiro is considering resigning and fleeing to vanuatu

what does it mean when someone’s hands are cold if the weather isn’t?

Circulatory problems? Probably not. Anemia? Could be. Physical exhaustion? Likely. However, it’s the ‘anxiety or nervousness’ symptom that makes Koharu pause. Quite honestly, it might be the likeliest one.

It all makes sense now.

Nagumo acts like a warden because he’s actually nervous about talking to her. Koharu might not be the most famous woman in all of Japan, but she spilled juice over her once, so that ought to count for something. Besides, not to be vain–this is a journey of wellness after all–but Koharu is very attractive. As if to prove this, she looks at herself through her camera.

She’s in a tiny clinic, wearing little makeup and under extreme duress, yet he looks this good; of course a guy like him would get anxious.

Thus, Koharu concludes that the reason why Nagumo was so jittery earlier is because he’s a tsundere.

***

Toshi (Soujiro can’t remember his name; all he knows is that it also sounds samurai-like), lies on the bed like a corpse. They checked, and he’s still breathing, so that’s nice. Koharu would be all over his guy if he was an actor. He looks like a porcelain doll, though Soujiro’s not sure if that’s a wolf cut or if the guy just hasn’t had time to visit a barber lately.

Oh, to be dainty…

Since Dr. Shimazu is unable to teleport, she’s taking a long, long time. Eguchi the driver, who’s probably the most agitated out of all of them, says, “I knew this would happen sooner or later. I get this place is like, understaffed, but there’s covering shifts, and then there’s whatever this guy does.” It takes a few seconds for Soujiro to process what he’s saying. He’s never been good at accents, or dialects, or anything. “I’m gonna have to get Yuu, huh?”

Mrs. Matsueda and Mr. Oda exchange glances.

With a heavy sigh, the driver leaves the room. Soujiro stands at the entrance like a guard, mostly to ward off onlookers.

While Mrs. Matsueda sits on the bed, holding Toshi’s hand, Mr. Oda is scrolling on his phone. “I found instructions to set up the IV.”

“Oda, don’t be a fool. Yuu will show up in a minute.”

“But if we do it–”

“Please don’t,” Soujiro blurts out.

“So he won’t die?”

“He won’t,” Mrs. Matsueda says. “If Iroha and the Kyoto boy say so, we should listen. City folk have their wisdom, too.”

Said wisdom is called common sense. Soujiro has long since become used to being the only one with it, even before prison. Because Fuji’s parents were so opposed to him getting hired at first, he used to include them in the list, but then he actually met them. He knew Fuji was a lost case when she personally interviewed him and her first question was if he’d ever killed anyone.

The driver returns shockingly fast, holding a woman with dyed blond hair on his side. The most haunting part of this is that she doesn’t seem the least bit surprised when she finds an unconscious nurse and a patient holding his hand like a relative. In fact, she sighs. “I leave for five minutes,” she mumbles, sees Soujiro, then clears her throat. “Well, everyone, this place is too crowded! Please wait by the… oh, right, the lobby has those baskets. Ugh…”

“I’ll help,” Soujiro says. The woman–Eguchi Yuu, the nurse, most likely–switched to Hyojungo once she spotted him. Of course he’ll help. “Mrs. Matsu, Mr. Oda, Mr. Eguchi, I’ll clear some seats for you.”

They follow after Soujiro, leaving the incapacitated nurses behind. After moving a few baskets to the floor, the locals sit on what used to be couches thirty years ago. Eguchi the driver is fuming by this point. Understandable, since his wife is probably on medical leave yet had to limp her way back to work.

If Soujiro was a stronger man, he wouldn’t have caved to Fuji’s secret plan to transfer. He would’ve told her parents, who would’ve convinced the hospital not to cave to her whims, which could’ve saved these poor people from her. Soujiro has blood on his hands now.

“...Kyoto boy.”

Oh God.

“How old are you? Are you the actress’s bodyguard? You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”

“I’m curious, too,” says the driver. “Mostly about why Fujinomiya transferred… well, here.”

Soujiro replies, “I’m twenty-six, the same age as her. And no, I’m her… assistant. She hasn’t told anyone. I don’t know. Does the whole town know she’s here?” Because if so, Soujiro is considering resigning and fleeing to Vanuatu.

“No, no,” responds Mrs. Matsueda. “Only the regulars, and trust me, they won’t talk if they know what’s good for them. Besides, no one wants those… what’s the word…?”

“Paparazzi,” says Mr. Oda. “It looks like this actress girl is famous.”

“Of course, Oda, you fool.”

“She’s the one that got into the knitting accident.”

The driver leans forward. “Wait, that’s her? The ‘stay mad poor’ one? I didn’t know they were the same person. That makes so much sense!”

It really does.

“But she can’t be that bad if she’s giving away these things, right? Who are they for, anyway?”

Soujiro shrugs. “She said ‘everyone’.”

Immediately, he realizes he just committed a faux-pas. The locals’ eyes brighten. Mr. Oda is the first to stand. “Well, don’t mind if I do.”

“Wait, you blobfish!” Mrs. Matsueda goes next.

The driver glances at them. “Everyone, as in… us? Or the staff? Because there’s only a handful of them.”

Soujiro scratches the back of his head. “I guess you guys can’t take the rest.”

The driver grins.

By the time Dr. Shimazu shows up with the provisional nurse, Soujiro has managed to convince the locals to sit, that he’ll distribute the baskets later, and hidden himself so the doctor doesn’t flee again. However, it hasn’t even been a minute when Mr. Oda heads to the group of baskets he’s using for cover and asks, “What’re you doing there?”

“Who…” Dr. Shimazu walks over to him, then jumps.

“It’s the famous girl’s assistant,” Mr. Oda clarifies.

“R-right…” Dr. Shimazu flees to Clinic #1, and Soujiro laments his lack of daintiness again. It is what it is. At least the hospital… no, he can’t call this that… medical center has working staff again. Shockingly, Fuji hasn’t called him. He turned his phone on again, but nothing.

Soujiro could go back to the hotel, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even know why. He has no emotional stakes in this. None. And yet.

Eguchi the nurse leaves with Eguchi the driver, but not before thanking Soujiro profusely. He gives them two baskets.

And yet…

“Would you like to have dinner with Iroha and me, Kyoto boy? I’ll be cooking hot pot tonight!”

“Hot pot…” Mr. Oda invites himself.

Hot pot…

Soujiro has never eaten hot pot…

Soujiro has never eaten dinner with a family…

The provisional nurse walks out of Clinic #1, narrowly dodging a stack of baskets. For a moment, as she stumbles, everyone in the room collectively draws their breath–but no, she doesn’t incapacitate herself. It’s surreal how she’s now a statistical minority. “Sorry for that!” Exclaims the nurse as she approaches Soujiro and the elders. “Dr. Shimazu told me to ### about Koha-chin–um, I-I mean Fujinomiya Koharu before the ### session. Would that be alright, Mr. Hino?”

…what.

“Mr. Hino? @#%&?”

Soujiro swallows.

This provisional nurse is pale, blue-eyed, with wavy brown hair tied into a ponytail. Her accent is, by far, the hardest to understand yet.

There’s no way.

There’s no way that out of any, any nurse they could’ve found, they brought a foreigner.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Literally everything. “Is the other nurse still unconscious? Maybe he can help you…” Soujiro trails off. The nurse’s eyes are wide, her lips pursed. She’s as confused about his dialect as he is about hers.

“He’s asking if Toshi’s fine,” Mr. Oda translates. “And she’s asking if you could answer some questions about the famous girl.”

O-oh.

“O-oh! I’m so sorry! You see… $@&%.. French… ### Fukuoka…”

The more Soujiro tries to find the sense in this, the less there is, so he just takes the French, Hakata-ben speaker nurse at face value. “I understand.”

The nurse is blushing now. “Could you please follow me?”

At first, all of them do, but then the French nurse stops, holds up a hand, then shakes her head while giving the elders a smile. Thus, Soujiro enters the trenches alone.

Toshi’s eyes are open now, barely. “Hino,” he mumbles. “Dr. Shimazu has to see someone else. Could you please, please help Ms. Gaillard control Fujinomiya… don’t let her… destroy... anyone else…”

And thus, Soujiro confirms that the Fujinomiya curse is real.

Dr. Shimazu is very unsubtly pressing herself against the gray, damp wall opposite to the door, but she manages to speak, “I’m very sorry. Ms. Gaillard is great, but Nagumo thinks that it would be best for you to, um. For you to help…”

“Or I could do it myself,” Toshi mumbles.

“No…”

“I just need something to eat. I’ll be fine.”

“You have to rest,” the half-French nurse says, or maybe she tells him that she enjoys wrestling seaweed.

“I know, but…” Toshi trails off, gesturing at Soujiro. “He doesn’t even understand what you’re saying.”

From the way she bites her lip, she’s aware.

Dr. Shimazu mutters, “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude. Why would you bring–” Toshi lets out a sigh, sharp and exasperated. “I’ll do it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Dr. Shimazu is clearly fighting back tears. “If you get off that bed,” she says, “You’re fired.”

He laughs. “Oh, please.”

The French nurse fidgets, and Soujiro can’t blame her. Quite honestly, he feels like doing so, too; they even exchange awkward, conspiratorial glances. Fuji claims to be fluent in French. Assuming she isn’t lying, then maybe, maybe this could work.

“Dr. Shimazu,” Toshi says. “I won’t actually treat the patient. I’ll just tell Ms. Gaillard what to…” He trails off, grimacing. “...excuse me, what to do. Then I’ll rest. But we can’t lose another one, and you have to…”

“I know,” Dr. Shimazu replies. She’s so pale that she might just collapse, too.