torn between professional duty and common sense

Toshi doesn’t mind losing the battle as much as he thought he would. There’s a disgusting elegance to vegan curry. Since the doctor from the other clinic is there, Toshi can leave the medical center alone for a bit, taking his lunch break to cook for a bratty celebrity. He finishes fast enough to eat, too, which is nice.

By the time he returns, Fujinomiya is makeupless, sleeping on her side with her phone dangling off her hand, a breeze away from falling. She really wasn’t kidding about that window…

Still, while it’s still warm outside, the sea breeze could give her a cold anyway. After placing the vegan curry container on the table, Toshi covers her with the blanket she tossed to her feet, takes her phone, then stops.

If he puts it on the table, she’ll stretch before asking for help, then fall, and then the cot will slide and fall on top of her, and it might hit the desk which will also fall on top of her, and so will the closet, and then that concentrated weight will be too heavy so the floor will collapse and the entire room will fall on top or Mr. Sato, who’s already pretty pudgy himself, so then–

Is that Cookie?

Since Fujinomiya grips her phone (even) in her sleep, it wasn’t locked, and it still isn’t.

Surely enough, she’s looking at a picture of Cookie.

How is–no matter.

Why is–no matter.

Slowly, Toshi places the phone on the wheelchair next to her. Toshi uses one of the papers from the stack–not like it has any use anyway–to write the following note:

Our staff prepared food that caters to your dietary preferences. Please press the button when you wake up so I can heat it.

Upon sliding the note under her phone, he takes the curry and leaves.

***

Hours later, he has to wake her up for her therapy session. Fujinomiya’s very first instinct is to reach for her phone. “Ah,” she mumbles, staring at the black screen. “I’m not wearing AHHH!” While Toshi flinches, hands in the air, she rolls into her blanket. “Come back in ten minutes! You monster!”

About two minutes later, as Toshi waits out the door with his arms crossed, the doctor shows up, huffing at the stairs. “What… what happened?”

“I saw her without makeup.”

“Is that… is that why…” The doctor has to rest his hands on his knees. He also knows that going up the stairs is faster than using the danger box. “But why did she scream?”

“She’s always like that.”

“Regardless, are you sure that there’s nothing else going on? Perhaps I should go in and ask–”

“Wait!” Before he can think, Toshi puts an arm between the door and the doctor. He retreats it a moment later, but the damage has been done. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just… for the safety of everyone involved, it’d be best not to go in there right now.”

The doctor rubs his chin, squinting at him. Toshi can’t blame him–he’d also be wary were their roles reversed. “Are you sure you’re not hiding anything, Nagumo?”

“Um. Quite sure.”

And so, understandably, the doctor knocks at the door. “Ms. Fujinomiya? I’m Dr. Okita. Can I go in?”

“NO! NAGUMOOO!”

“See?” Toshi says.

Torn between professional duty and common sense, Dr. Okita hesitates. He’s married, so he probably gets it. “...very well. If anything happens, please let me know. I’ll be here for the rest of the day.” To Toshi, he mumbles, “You never know with these high-profile patients.”

It would be as good a moment as any to tell him that said high-profile patient contacted Toshi on multiple alts and is now looking at pictures of his dog, but he just nods in response. “Thank you. I will.”

What would happen if he reported her, anyway? Would she get kicked out? Would she pay for their silence? Would they tell him to shut up and bear it because the bribe is that good?

And if she left, would this be a stain on her record? What if she gets worse?

Twelve minutes later, long after Dr. Okita has left, Fujinomiya announces, “Ready.”

She’s still fixing her hair when Toshi walks in. “Done? No more screaming? I almost got fired because of you again.”

She’s still adjusting her hair by looking at her reflection on her phone. “Nah, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have let them. By the way, I saw the note. Where’s my food?”

“Therapy first.” Does she think she’s a monarch or what?

“What about therapy and food?”

“We’re already twelve minutes late,” Toshi says. “I’ll heat it up and bring it after the session. Anything else?”

“Hey, there’s only Dr. Okita and you today, right? Who’s gonna help me bathe?”

“Oh, dear. Gaillard should be on call, so I’ll let her know.”

“What does that ‘on call’ thing mean?”

“She’s off today, but…”

Fujinomiya twirls her hair, pouting. “I guess I can survive one day without bathing. Hurry up. Let’s finish this so I can eat.”

How magnanimous of her. “Are you sure?”

“Unless, Nagumo, you’d like to–”

“No.”

She hides the obvious smirk behind her manicured fingers. “You’re such a gentleman, protecting a maiden’s integrity. Ufufu.” It’s very important to note the ‘ufufu’ because that’s the exact noise she makes.

Toshi doesn’t engage. He kicks the stool into position, sits down, then begins their session. Fujinomiya keeps her fingers over her lips. Perhaps she finally lost it and thinks she’s in a movie. “Any pain?” He asks.

“Not yet.” A while later, she adds, “Nagumo.”

“Mhm…”

“...no, nothing.” Twenty seconds later: “Did you get a gift basket? I know they saved one for you.”

He nods.

“Did you like it?”

“I haven’t opened it.”

“Could you say ‘Koha-chin is beautiful and talented’ in that same tone?”

“I could, but I won’t.”

She huffs. Near the end, in a disturbingly whispery voice, she says, “Get my crochet suitcase once you’re done. Also, I want to sit.”

Once they finish the session and he fulfills the princess’s orders, Toshi turns to leave. Naturally, Fujinomiya calls out, “Wait!” and so he waits. He grimly accepts that whatever she says next will be deranged. “Take care.”

And it is. Never has a pleasantry held so much weight. Seldom does it feel so sincere.

Take care.

Smiling, he responds, “You too.”