strict, grumpy men smiling like that means trouble

Amelia has become a drunken goose in all ways but physical. Her dress is tight and she’s unused to wearing heels, so running isn’t exactly an option. The problem isn’t even her makeup staining her face if she cries, or her shoes snapping, or even a guy she just rejected chasing after her, but… well, no, that’s pretty much it.

Also, her finally getting accepted in an international program that could’ve—perhaps should’ve—pulled her closer to her dream. Instead, she ended up a thousand kilometers away from her goal, constantly traveling to tiny villages about to disappear. With barely any time for herself, that anime adaptation became a faraway, bittersweet memory.

Then Koha-chin showed up.

Not that Koha-chin had anything to do with her dream, but it was a message. It felt like one, at least. And thus, with renewed spirits, Amelia had finally begun to draw again; perhaps she’d finally have the courage to ask for vacations, head to Tokyo, and pitch her work.. even though that would mean leaving hundreds of elders dying and unattended…

So in the end, she didn’t go anywhere. But! At least she had the chance to see Koha-chin again.

And this was her price to pay for her selfishness.

Had Amelia not showed up that day, and she would’ve never seen the signs. She wouldn’t have heard Koha-chin ask Nagumo what he liked in a woman. She wouldn’t have heard that half-hearted ‘just stop’ or the dog conversation. Worst of all was that smile when he handed her a tissue–knowing, amused, when it should’ve been clinical and detached.

As if this wasn’t enough, lately, Koha-chin’s fan forums had exploded with discussions about that allegedly forty-year old nurse. Did he actually sound forty? No. Did Koha-chin act differently when he showed up? No, but…

That ‘but’ was all they needed.

“Gaillard. Come on now.”

While Nagumo takes a brisk walk behind her, Amelia waddles for dear life. A few passersby stop to watch the spectacle, but most of them are probably used to this, to a host and a hostess running like… hosts. Amelia doesn’t even know. Point is, they’re curious but unfazed.

Still, much like it is a universal truth that strict, grumpy men smiling like that means trouble, it’s also true that she can’t run away forever. Sooner or later, they’ll meet again. The hallway will end. She might be the only one able to stop this madness before it devolves into a career-ending national scandal.

Amelia stops.

So does Nagumo.

Without turning around, she says, “I’m sorry.”

“If it’s about what happened in that room, don’t be. Honestly, I was thinking of asking you to pretend like it never happened.”

“Um. No, that’s fine, just. H-how much did you see?”

“How much did I see of what?” He asks.

Amelia chews her lip until she remembers she’s wearing makeup. “Of the… my…”

“Personality? You were very reserved, Ms. Gaillard. Unfortunately, none of us had the chance to meet you.”

So he’s going to pretend like that never happened as well. “Okay. Sorry. It was my first time in one of those events, so I got a little bit nervous.”

“Understandable. You did seem kind of tense. It’s usually advised to show up with friends precisely to avoid situations like that.”

He’s even using keigo—formal language. So is Amelia, come to think of it. No use telling him that she theoretically did show up with a friend, though Umi was always kind of mean to her anyway. “...yeah… I don’t… want to go back in there.”

“Me neither. You seem to have something else on your mind, Ms. Gaillard. Mind letting me know while we head to the entrance?”

Well, there’s the Nagumo she knows. To someone else, that soft, kind tone of voice might seem inviting, but she has heard him use it to unsubtly manipulate patients into taking their pills, eating their food, or taking their walks. Amelia nods.

“Great. Thank you for your trust.”

As they take the elevator to the first floor, Amelia feels herself melt. Nagumo keeps finding a way to get scarier with each passing second. How is she supposed to stop this—this madness? It doesn’t help that, when she wrote the villain based on Nagumo, she described him as a soft-spoken tyrant who breaks people down with words.

Actually, there’s her silver lining—method acting. She pretends to be the protagonist.

They leave the elevator in silence. People stare at her. She knows, damn it. She knows how she looks. She’ll never wear a dress again in her life. The clack clack clack of her shoes against marble doesn’t help. The world is golden, white and fake, then damp and neon as soon as she walks through the door.

They’re outside the building now. It’s cold. Fukuoka at night after a rainfall looks majestic from a distance, but when gazing at it from below, it’s not that different from home. It’s not. In the end, it’s all suffocating colors and scents blurring into sensory nonsense.

“Are you taking the train?” Nagumo asks. “I can walk you there, then head back. It’s not a good look if both of us leave at the same time.”

Amelia nods, then begins to walk after him. “I don’t mind. I wouldn’t want you to go back if you’re not comfortable there, either… Mr… Nagumo.”

That makes him snort. Amelia can’t tell if it’s due to amusement, but she pretends like it is to preserve her sanity. It helps that he stops to drape his coat around her shoulders. She’s neither surprised nor disappointed to catch a faint trace of cigarette smoke as he does. Then they continue to walk. “Now,” Nagumo says, “About that other thing you had in mind…”

“Ah, that… well…” Here it is. The moment of truth. She can do it. It should be fine if she’s tasteful about her phrasing. “Do you like Koha-chin?”

“She’s fine.”

Of course he deflects. “But… do you like her or not?”

“I don’t badmouth my patients.”

“So you don’t like her?”

“I don’t hate her.”

Amelia holds the coat around her shoulders like she’s an isopod. Never mind. Subtlety won’t work. The streets are still crowded despite it being so late, so she can’t just yell at him. “Would you date her?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Some questions answer themselves, Ms. Gaillard.”

“No they don’t,” she says. “Why wouldn’t you? Why shouldn’t you?”

“She’s not my type.”

He’s just going to keep doing that, isn’t he? Time to change strategies again. “Are you… h-have you…”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Nagumo replies. “That’s why we met where we met.”

“But you don’t have to be seeing anyone to, you know…”

“I don’t. To what?”

“...nothing…”

They walk in silence for some time while Amelia seethes in her own incompetence. The train station is two blocks away, the ground still damp and slippery from the rain. When Nagumo sees that she’s struggling to keep his pace, he slows down.

This would be easier if he was actually evil. Some of Amelia’s regular co-workers are. A few months ago, she slipped on a banana while dodging a manhole (nobody ever believes her when she says this) and was bedridden for a couple of weeks. Innocently, she shared old pictures of her cosplaying as the main character of a dodgy romance named Called To Him, only for one of her co-workers to report her for ‘misusing’ her medical leave.

Needless to say, she can’t just report the…

But…

“Why do you think what you think?” Nagumo asks.

Preparing herself for a second round of psychological warfare, Amelia replies, “I heard some things the other day. She was, uh. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop or anything. I was just looking for you to see if you needed help with anything else, but then I heard her… ugh. She asked what type of women you’re into.”

Finally, Nagumo confirms he’s human by sighing. “Ah, that. Ms. Gaillard, has she ever asked invasive questions to you?”

“Maybe…”

“Have you ever had any patients that were a bit too friendly before?”

“Yeah…”

“Did this make you want to fuck them?”

That’s the first direct strike after several minutes of circling each other, and Amelia loses. Her hands are shaking. “No…”

“Well, me neither.” Amelia is planning her watch-romcoms-and-cry session when he adds, “I get where you’re coming from, though. If… for example, we’d had a male patient instead, around the same age, and also a model or whatever she is, I’d be very suspicious after hearing a similar conversation. And like—I’m not blind. I know she’s good-looking. She’s a patient, though, and we’re there to help her get better. That’s it.”

He dropped the keigo, but he still talks to Amelia like she’s an elder that needs to take her meds. “And if… she wasn’t a patient?”

“Then I would’ve never had the misfortune of meeting her.”

“Oh.”

“No offense,” Nagumo says. “I know you’re a fan.”

“That’s okay. She was caught on camera trying to pet a crocodile once. That’s just the type of person she is, I suppose. Invasive.”

“To put it lightly.”

“She also asked me if…” Amelia gulps. This is it. “...someone blocking her twice means that he’s a tsundere. Was that you?”

“Mhm.”

Had he denied it and she would’ve told him that she heard that part of the conversation, too. Nagumo must’ve inferred as such. “Then why haven’t you said anything?”

“Let’s see. What would happen if we reported this?”

Koha-chin would get transferred elsewhere, obviously. She’d probably get into legal trouble. She might get blacklisted in several centers. Sooner than later, this information would be leaked to the general public. Not only would she be disgraced with no opportunity for a comeback, but the medical center would probably get shut down as well. Even if he’d followed the protocol to the bone, chances are that Nagumo might’ve been accused of reciprocating anyway.

At last, he glances at her from the corners of his eyes. “See?”

Amelia nods.

“I’ll ask this not as a colleague, but as a person: can you please forget about it?”

Does she have any other option? How can she possibly say no? The worst worst part out of this is how literally none of this surprises her. She knows how parasocial Koha-chin can get. It’s part of her charm, or… was. “What will you do, Nagumo?”

“Honestly… just wait until she leaves. She’ll probably forget about, um, everyone as soon as she’s gone.”

That ‘um’.

That ‘everyone’.

He was going to say ‘me’, wasn’t he?

All it takes is one filter word for that terrifying villain to become a human. “Promise?” Amelia asks.

“Promise,” Nagumo replies. “I swear, Gaillard. The day I cross a line with a patient is the day I quit.”

It’s precisely because of this that she not only believes him, but pities him. “Alright. I’ll… I can’t forget about it, but I won’t tell anyone. Just… please know that you can talk to me if you need to.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Sure.”

Well, ouch. Never mind, he’s still scary.

“Oh, by the way, before I forget.” He shakes the wrist where he wields a diamond-studded, white gold wristwatch like it’s a leather bracelet. “About this thing: I borrowed it from her assistant. A friend advised me to show one of these as a status symbol or something, and I didn’t think much of it. I’ll give it back tomorrow. If she knows what’s good for her, she won’t try another siege again.”

He’s still scary and now Amelia can’t tell, again, if he likes or hates the woman.

…in other words, Nagumo is a tsundere.