rules are meant to be broken

No matter what, Koharu can never seem to do anything right. Aside from a lot of things.

Due to her privileged view, if Koharu looks in front of her, she can watch the sea. However, if she lowers her gaze and stretches enough, she can see the entrance to the medical center. This is how she sees Nagumo checking the contents of each crate. Medical supplies on the first one. Vegetables on the second one. Blankets on the third one. Dog food on the fourth one.

After holding his head in apparent despair–though Koharu knows better–he walks back into the clinic. Minutes later, he returns, slapping DO NOT OPEN signs on each crate. He hesitates for a bit, arms crossed, then ends up picking up the vegetable crate.

It might look silly, but he’s stronger than he looks. Last week, as he helped her onto the wheelchair for their walk to the beach, she noticed how tight his shirt got around his shoulders. So he’s good at photography and he plays guitar and he’s a nurse and he has a good body? It’s not fair.

Oh, well. At least he had the decency to take the vegetables out of the sun.

Meanwhile, Koharu can act and sing and…

And she can…

She’s pretty.

***

Toshi is to Mrs. Gouda what a punching bag is to a boxer.

“...second time this happens! It does NOT matter if you’re returning them or not! Why did you allow them to get there in the first place?”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“How much more unnecessary paperwork will I have to fill? What am I supposed to tell the board now?”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“You should be. That clinic is on thin ice as is, and this does not help. Who do you think has to fight so it doesn’t get closed? Again?”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“You know how it is, Nagumo. You know what happens. They’ll shut that place down to ‘consolidate care’ in larger hospitals. That’s all they do. You know–and they know–that elders won’t travel for hours over some back pain. They’ll wither away in their homes. All of them. And then?”

“I… I know.”

“Then act like it!” Mrs. Gouda hangs up.

Toshi takes five minutes to lie his head on his arms at the break room’s only table. By the third, Gaillard opens the door, so he straightens up quickly and pretends to be checking his phone. Due to earlier events, he hasn’t been able to look at her.

“Hello... Mr. Sato isn’t doing too well. Did Mr. Okita confirm if he’ll be able to visit?”

“Mhm.”

“Ah, that’s good.”

One minute of his five-minute break left. He should have fifteen, but rules are meant to be broken. Of course Mr. Sato isn’t doing too well. He has been withering for weeks, with no one to help, and not enough money to afford care elsewhere, even with his senior discount.

“By the way… I’m not sure if I’ll have time for Ms. Fujinomiya’s session today. I know I’m supposed to do it, but my schedule overlaps with the other one you gave me. I just didn’t say anything because I thought I’d have everything done in time. But. I’m sorry.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I’ll take care of that,” he mumbles. Go away.

Amelia must have telepathy, because she does just that.

As tempting as it is to take an extra minute, he cannot, and thus he does not; preparing himself for the incoming battle, Toshi heads to Fujinomiya’s room.

***

Koha-chin: Hello.

Fujinomiya Seiya: Koharu, you have not communicated with us for two weeks. You have barely responded to the agency. You have not confirmed your collaboration with Yukida yet. Out of anyone you could have chosen, you took an ex-convict with you who, by the way, refuses to answer any calls. Do you see how poorly this reflects on us? On you? Do you understand how dangerous this is for everyone involved? If your mother decides to bring this to court, what do you think will happen to Hino?

Koha-chin: For starters, he’s MY employee. I hired him, not the estate. He doesn’t have to respond to anyone else. If she tries to sue him, I’ll sue her back.

Fujinomiya Seiya: That’s not how that works and you know it.

Koha-chin: And to think I finally decided to write back because I missed you…

Fujinomiya Seiya: No, you didn’t. What do you need? I don’t have time for your tantrums, nor will I enable them. If you’re looking to transfer back into civilization, you’ll have to figure that on your own. I will not engage with you any further unless absolutely necessary.

Koha-chin: I’m having boy trouble

Fujinomiya Seiya: ARE YOU PREGNANT???

Fujinomiya Seiya: I just sent you a list of baby names

Fujinomiya Seiya: Fumito is a good man

Fujinomiya Seiya: I will handle the PR ( ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ )

Koha-chin: If I get blocked while trying to talk to him, what does that mean?

Koha-chin: This isn’t related to Yukida Fumito. He is trash ( ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ )

Fujinomiya Seiya: I see. I disagree, but it looks as though you’re having an affair right now, which I can forgive. You’re still young, after all. Any man should consider himself blessed to be talking to you. Either he is an ingrate, or he’s shy.

Koha-chin: I think so too.

Fujinomiya Seiya: What is his name? Is he with a rival agency?

Koha-chin: Secret.

Fujinomiya Seiya: Are you talking about Hino?

Koha-chin: I’M NOT

Fujinomiya Seiya: Good. For him.

Koha-chin: It’s not anyone you know. It’s a secret. I’m just not sure if he likes or hates me. By the way, I never said that it’s ROMANTIC boy trouble. I’m not pregnant. I just talked to you because all my male friends are busy.

Fujinomiya Seiya: Dearest Koharu, we both know you have no friends.

Koha-chin: So does he hate me or not? He blocked me, but he sent a voice mail while pretending like it was an accident. We held hands. He acts mean to hide how nervous he is around me, but what if it ISN’T an act? What if he’s actually just mean because he finds me annoying?

Koha-chin: Everyone finds me annoying, but I just thought he might be different.

Fujinomiya Seiya: That’s not true. Sharky doesn’t find you annoying.

Koha-chin: No, he does.

Fujinomiya Seiya: (╥﹏╥)

Koha-chin: (╥﹏╥)

Fujinomiya Seiya: One moment. I have a meeting.

Koha-chin: That’s fine. I have physical therapy soon anyway.

Fujinomiya Seiya: I just told them I have diarrhea so we can keep talking.

Koha-chin: ok

Fujinomiya Seiya: The world is unkind to audacious women. Everyone expects you to be confident, but humble. Jovial, but subdued. Friendly, but casually distant. You might be difficult sometimes, but that’s exactly what makes you stand out. There are too many humble, subdued, casually distant girls out there. They will fade away as soon as new ones show up. You, Koharu, stand out because you can’t fit in. Any man worth your attention should know this.

Koha-chin: So does he like me or not?

Fujinomiya Seiya: How many followers does he have?

Nagumo walks in, so Koharu leaves her dad on read. Can’t he give sensible advice for once?

“Good morning, Ms. Fujinomiya. How have you been today?”

So be it. Koharu will have to use her female intuition. She places her phone over her mouth, glancing at Nagumo as he kicks the stool from beneath the cot, then sits on it. Despite the characteristic, needless aggressiveness of his actions, he used his nurse voice from the moment he walked in. She’ll have to tread carefully. “I’m doing great. Did you see the gifts?”

“Yeah. Ready?”

“Did you like them?”

“You’re always so thoughtful, Ms. Fujinomiya. Thank you so much for worrying about us.”

So he hates them.

They’re silent for some time, as usual. It’s not uncommon for a patient and therapist to engage in small talk during sessions, but she likes the silence and nurse voice more. It’s soothing, like the sea’s midnight lullaby.

Regardless, Koharu must continue with her audit. “Nagumo.”

“...yes?”

“I’m returning the gifts.”

She might as well just have told him that she’s leaving. He’s that transparently relieved.

“Continue.”

He does.

“I’m not sure how else I can help. Matsu told me that these clinics have run on donations for years, so I thought…”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Nagumo replies, eyes and hands fixed on her ugly eggplant leg. “Worry about getting better. You’re doing great so far.”

She might as well be talking to a robot. “But I want to help.”

“And we appreciate your intentions, Ms. Fuji–”

Koharu bats his hand away, which makes him blink, shocked. “You don’t,” she says.

After a moment, Nagumo stands up. He does that thing where he puts his hands in his pockets. It’s a soda nurse thing, not a Nagumo thing. With a cold, uncomfortable distance between them, he says, “If you really want to help, I’d be glad to provide you with the necessary contacts. However, I’m afraid we can’t continue the session like this.”

“Well, of course not, because you’re across the room.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, which is a Nagumo thing. “I understand–”

“I know you understand.” Koharu interrupts him because she knows it pisses him off. Lately, she has been catching herself doing that often. She hadn’t even noticed this habit until Nagumo pointed it out. It’s the first time she does it on purpose, and they both know it. “I told Soujiro to drop the gifts while you were busy so you wouldn’t say no. But that’s fine. If he can’t return them, I’ll just tell him to burn them.”

“I see.”

Not a ‘please don’t do that’ or ‘stop interrupting’ or even a ‘fuck you’. Whatever. If everyone hates her and she can’t do anything right, she might as well play the part. “No amount of gifts can save this place, anyway.”

The look he gives her should be cathartic, but it just makes her breath hitch. All the vitriol she has faced combined cannot compare to the sheer disappointment in his eyes.

It makes her chest hurt. Why not hatred? Or contempt? Or even anger? Without breaking eye contact, Koharu pushes a pillow off the cot. “Pick it up.”

Thus, Nagumo loses. After slowly shaking his head, with his eyes on the floor, he obeys. The pillow is already contaminated, so it’s not like she can use it, but he knows that she’ll try to pick it up on her own if he declines. He tosses it into the laundry bin.

“Help me sit.”

“...of course, Ms. Fujinomiya.”

Sometimes she wishes she had been born somewhere else. She has read that, in some places, it’s not only normal but expected to greet each other with an embrace. Wouldn’t that be nice?

She can force underlings to clean her messes, but she can’t ask them for a hug. All she can do is make up an excuse so she can pretend, just for a moment, that she’s somebody else.

In order to help her sit, Nagumo has to slide one arm behind her shoulders and another one behind her knees. Gaillard does it with ease, too, but Dr. Shimazu or Eguchi have to call for reinforcements.

It’s nice.

It’s nice to be held. It’s warm and bittersweet, like him. That’s why it lasts for so little.

Soon, she’s back into a cold, sterile world where gifts are a burden and hugs a commodity. “Thank you,” Koharu says.

Nagumo stands across the room again. “You’re welcome. Anything else?”

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I just wanted to help.’

‘I just want someone to…’

“Take care,” she says instead.

A sterile, cold world dictates that he should finish the checkup, then leave. If he does, then Koharu will be free. The reason behind her transfer will lose meaning, and that’s fine. That’s good. She was wasting too much time and effort in…

Nagumo asks, “Fujinomiya Koharu, are you absolutely, completely sure that nothing hurts?”

…in…

…oh, no.

Tears.