an actress who’s in love with her nurse

Toshi drinks to forget.

Kidding.

He doesn’t drink. His tolerance to alcohol is the only thing worse than his luck. Yamamoto, who probably shouldn’t be talking about such a sensitive legal case to strangers, does so because he’s the center of attention. Between sips of cheap beer, he says, “I feel bad for their attorney, man. There’s no way they can win this. The dude was practically bedridden for six months, staying at the family villa, isolated. They were fucking by month three.”

“Is he rich?” Asks one of the women.

“Dude’s loaded. All of his family is.”

The one next to Gaillard slams her hand on the table. It’s barely been half an hour and she’s basically wobbling already. “Wait, I know who you’re talking about! Isn’t that the actress who’s in love with her nurse?”

“Who?” Asks Yamamoto.

Who indeed.

Gaillard all but pushes the woman down. “No one! Umi, please. You’re intoxicated.”

“I know who you’re talking about,” says Nagumo’s other friend, the carnal one. “But Yamamoto’s talking about a female caretaker and a male patient, not the other way around. So there’s two of them, huh? If medical care is that lucrative, then I chose the wrong field!”

“Just don’t get caught,” Yamamoto–the lawyer–says. Everyone laughs.

The disturbing conversation topic isn’t enough, no: a very particular someone is singing in the background. He’d recognize that shrill voice anywhere.

Or, well, no. It’s not that squeaky. Fujinomiya kept raising her pitch when she first showed up, but she dropped that gimmick relatively quickly. She still does it while streaming, but her natural voice is actually pretty low. Despite the inane topics of the songs, that alone gives them a soothing, alluring quality. They’re not at all a genre he’d usually listen to, but…

The girl Toshi assumes is hosting the party stands up, clapping once. “Hey, everyone! I know gossip is fun, but we’re forgetting something very important: introductions! Let’s start with the pretty girl in red at the back!”

If Gaillard could get any more tense, she’d snap. Toshi isn’t even questioning why she’s here anymore, in this exact place, at this exact time. It is what it is. Why is she dressed like that, though? “Um, good evening. I’m Amelia Gaillard, twenty-three years old. I’m a nurse, and uh. That’s it.”

Yamamoto asks the inevitable: “Where are you from?”

“...France.”

“Oh la la!” Yamamoto may or may not have an even weaker tolerance to alcohol. This gets a laugh anyway, albeit a nervous one from Gaillard. “Well, nice to meet you, miss Gai… Ga… anyway, I’m Yamamoto Kousuke, twenty-nine, a prosecutor by day and bassist by night.”

“Oh la la!” Echoes the intoxicated woman. “Do you play in a band?”

“Do I?” He nudges Toshi’s shoulder, who gives a tense smile before glancing out the window. By this point, he’s long since given up on finding anything worthwhile. He can’t relax with Gaillard around or Fujinomiya’s voice haunting him through the speakers. “...er, sorry, everyone, my friend here is a bit shy. Nagumo, come on. Your turn.”

“Nagumo Munetoshi. I’m also a nurse. I’m not French or a bassist.”

“A nurse?” Asks a girl who hadn’t spoken until now. Her sheer skepticism could double as an accusation. “No way! I thought you were a model!”

Subtle.

The rest of the table laughs, but it’s clear that she was going to say something less… flattering? To be fair, a nurse with ear piercings wouldn’t fly in Fukuoka, but Toshi forgot to take them off. Nobody cares in Otohama, and if they do, that’s a them problem.

One by one, they introduce themselves. One of them is an accountant who likes cats. One of them runs a coffee shop. One of them is a writer who loudly proclaims winning prizes and having a D cup. Needless to say, after Yamamoto, she becomes the center of attention.

It looks like it’s going to rain. It’s Eguchi’s turn to take care of the center today, but she’s kind of scatterbrained. Not that Toshi can speak; come to think of it, he left Fujinomiya’s window open. It shouldn’t rain around this time of the year, but still. If it does, with her immobile, she might get wet or, even worse, try to close the window by herself.

He’ll call Eguchi just to be sure. It’ll be quick. “Please excuse me for a moment,” Toshi mumbles to no one before he walks out of the room. Since it’s a higher-end bar than he’d initially assumed, very little of Fujinomiya’s voice slips through. Toshi leans next to the door while he makes the call. Again, it’ll be quick.

“Hi hi,” is Eguchi’s response. “I already closed her window.”

“...I wasn’t…”

“Mr. Sato’s resting, Mrs. Nishiyama’s stable, Mr. Oda’s crocheting with Ms. Fujinomiya and I. Anything else?”

“No, I guess… not.”

“Then–ah. Really?” She seems to be talking to someone in the background. Toshi pretends like he doesn’t know why, or who. “Ms. Fujinomiya says she wants to tell you something.”

“She can do that while I’m on the clock.”

“Pfft.” Eguchi passes the phone on to her, but Toshi hangs up before she can say anything. He turns his phone off.

One minute. One minute and he’ll go back inside.

Does Otohama follow him, or does he follow Otohama?

…an actress who’s in love with her nurse. Who might that be, he wonders? Surely nobody he knows about. Surely.

Due to the way these things work, it’s not that uncommon for patients to develop feelings towards their caretakers, which is exactly why said caretakers have to maintain their professionalism lest they end up in a lawsuit with their career in jeopardy. More importantly, it’s… deeply immoral.

Thankfully, Toshi has nothing to do with this–nothing–so he walks back inside while placing his phone in his back pocket. “Muneee!” Says Yamamoto (Toshi has told him not to use that nickname multiple times), “We changed seats! You’re next to the French girl n–WOW.”

Toshi freezes a moment before he sits. “Something wrong?”

Yamamoto points at him. Oh, great, he’s also drunk now. “Where did you get that from?”

He’s pointing at Soujiro’s borrowed wristwatch. Didn’t he tell Toshi to bring one? Something something status symbol. Toshi shrugs, sitting next to a slouching Gaillard. Apparently, said object is enough of a crime to shut the table up, and thus he’s forced to elaborate: “I got it as a gift sometime ago. Not sure where they got it.”

Silence.

The girl with the accusatory tone from earlier asks, “Are you sure you’re a nurse?”

“Mhm.”

“Then you guys must make a lot of money.”

Is the watch expensive or something? Toshi can’t tell. From what little he knows about Hino, he doesn’t exactly seem like the type who’d flaunt his we…

…oh.

Oh no.

It’s related to Fujinomiya, isn’t it?

Gaillard is staring at him–at him, not at the watch–which basically confirms this. Toshi chuckles, though it comes out breathless. “Like I said, it’s a gift. I’ll ask him where he got it from. I didn’t think much of it when I got it.”

“Then that friend must really like you.”

“Let me guess,” Yamamoto says, “A patient?”

The table laughs, sans Gaillard. Toshi replies, “Nah. The last thing I want is to face you in a trial.” Then he pours himself a drink.

“Well, if you give me half of what she gives you, that’s still more than my yearly income, so I’d be happy to lose!”

“Me too,” says Toshi’s carnal friend, who’s already all over one of the girls.

Toshi doubts a normal mixer would have this type of humor, but his friends are here, so it makes sense. He’ll try his luck on his own next time… or not, because with the way things are going, next time will end on a date with a serial killer. He’s not good with fake laughter, so he says, “Sure, sure. Find a rich girl, break her legs, then send her my way.”

While that manages to parry the conversation elsewhere, the look on Gaillard’s face is that of a third grader that caught their teacher picking their nose. Toshi takes another sip, but he’s sitting in the middle of nowhere instead of next to the window now, so there is no escape. It’s either her, or the intoxicated woman. “Good evening,” Gaillard says. “Nice to meet you, fellow nurse.”

“Nice to meet you, fellow nurse.”

“What a dark sense of humor you have.”

“We kind of need it in our field of work,” Toshi replies. It’s the first time they sustain eye contact for this long. Gaillard usually flees when she sees him walking by. She’s not even subtle about it.

“Maybe. It’s just not… appropriate… when there’s a celebrity who’s rumored to be hiding in this area.”

“You’re completely right, Ms. Gaillard. It’s shameful behavior.”

The intoxicated woman leans right in front of Toshi. He slides his drink to the side lest she spill it. “Amelia, don’t you ever get tired of being so uptight? You should be kissing this man, not scolding him.”

Gaillard blushes. She’s NOT helping. “Umi, please don’t…”

“Kiss!” Umi the drunkard slams the table again. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“What’s that?” Yamamoto can barely remember his name at this point, yet he parrots: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Then the rest of the table joins.

There’s a depressing, worldwide phenomenon where adults act like children due to how depressing their lives are. Rampant alcohol consumption and the way social barriers were obliterated early on don’t help. This was inevitable, really. It’s just annoying that it had to happen to him.

Toshi tries to shake his head at Gaillard again, but she’s too busy blushing and covering her face, which helps even less.

Outright rejecting her would be cruel, though. Hopefully she can do it instead.

As if on cue, she scrambles up. Good. She bows at him, apparently forgetting what she’s wearing. “I’m–I’m sorry! I don’t date younger men!”

It takes a moment to register her leaving. After realizing she flashed most of the table, she ran out of the room.

Chaos explodes.

If Yamamoto were to laugh any harder, he’d experience cardiac arrest. “Y-young… younger… BAHAHAH–ow!”

Toshi steps on his foot under the table.

With a sigh, he excuses himself to chase after Gaillard.