take care

After Dr. Shimazu calls him, Soujiro’s first thought is, ‘oh, God, what did Fuji do now?’

Thus, when her greeting is, “Hello again, Hino. Where are you?” his fight or flight response activates.

“Good evening, Dr. I’m… close?”

“How close?”

“The beach?”

She hangs up. Soujiro has absolutely no idea how to react to that, so he stares at the sea again. It’s hypnotizing enough to make him forget about anything important. It writhes like a gray, angry beast. To think that it was blue just a few weeks ago…

A war cry startles him. Instinctively, he turns, as Dr. Shimazu runs with those oversized sleeves flapping behind her. Not away—towards him. She doesn’t stop until she body-slams him, stumbles, then says, “S-sorry.”

“I-it’s fine.”

“Hino?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll just tell you this now because my grandma is… well, you know her by now, so, um. We have a surprise for you two.”

Soujiro turns around. “A surprise?”

“Yeah… ah! Wait, we’re running out of time!”

He doesn’t budge when she pulls at his arm. “A surprise? For me? But didn’t you ask me to leave?”

“Huh? Well… it wouldn’t be one if you knew about it…”

“So you’re not telling me to leave?”

Dr. Shimazu stops pulling. She shakes her head.

“And you have a surprise? For me?”

She nods.

“But I’m just an assistant.”

“You’re not a ‘just’. You’re Hino Soujiro. It’s a surprise for Ms. Fujinomiya and you. And if we don’t hurry up, the other two will show up first and ruin everything, and by that I mean To—Nagumo…”

‘Just’ Hino Soujiro.

Just Soujiro.

“Dr. Shimazu..."

They begin to walk.

"...can I ask you something?"

***

“Go on, Koha-chin, eat!”

She sure does. She’d recognize Soujiro’s beef Stroganoff anywhere, except…

“That’s right,” Mrs. Matsueda says. “I made it.” After multiple groans and mumbled complaints, she adds, “With some help.”

Munetoshi is still in shock, even after the elders sit him next to Koharu. Knowing him, he’s wondering how those pliable tables left the storage room. Who carried them? Who set them up? Were they cleaned thoroughly? That kind of thing. It’s not until Mr. Oda pats his ridiculous hat that he blinks. “If you ain’t gonna eat that, I will.”

“Mr. Oda—you—the—it’s too salty—”

“Shut up.”

“Shut up,” agrees Eguchi.

“Shut up,” agrees Eguchi’s husband.

Munetoshi lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

A few of the elders wear Santa hats. Koharu counts those at the table twice, just to be extra sure, then obviates herself. Twenty-two people in total, counting regulars and other employees. Good. That’s only one person less than expected, and that’s only because Gaillard went to France for the holidays.

With that said, she’s still present through a videocall, showing the kitten her family just adopted.

There’s beef, some type of hearty, local broth, lots of radishes and sweet potatoes, leftover chocolates from the baskets, buckets of chicken from a certain fast food chain—of course they’d have that here—and a huge, frosted cake.

The lamp above flickers every now and then. The heat radiators glow orange. Needless to say, this kind of thing wouldn’t happen in most of the world. Dr. Shimazu was almost certainly pressured into accepting this tomfoolery by the true matriarch of Otohama: her grandmother. She doesn’t look too happy about it, either, but then her arm brushes against Soujiro’s as he reaches out for chicken. They flinch at the same time. She gives a small, apologetic smile. So does he.

Koharu averts her gaze. Something rises up her throat. She’s not sure what to name it, but it’s petty.

To perish the thought, she decides it’s as good a time as any to hand out her surprise. She tries to be stealthy about it, but as she stands up, Munetoshi asks, “Where are you going?”

“...secret…”

He leers at her.

“...gifts.”

“Oh, no—”

“Gifts?” Asks Mr. Oda. “Ah, is it time?”

Munetoshi scrambles up. “Ms. Fujinomiya, what did you do now?”

She flicks her hair behind her back. “Oda-chin, let’s go. Everyone, I have a surprise for you as well! Please restrain Nagumo so he doesn’t ruin it!”

“WHAT—”

The Eguchis seize him.

“FUJINOMIYAAA!”

She cackles all the way to the elevator. Mr. Oda follows along, sans the ‘ufufu’. There are only three floors, but he takes his sweet time deciding which button to push anyway. When the elevator screams, he remains unfazed. Koharu never really got used to it, but she pretends as though her heart isn’t racing.

Her last night in Otohama.

Her last gift.

Her second-to-last time walking into her… the specialized care room.

The second-to-last time turning the light switch on.

The last time pushing her luggage in order to access the closet.

Upon opening it, dozens of gift bags spill out. While a bit unfortunate that they’re all brown, the grocery store had nothing else available. Besides, had she chosen anything flashier, Soujiro would’ve suspected about it (and probably tried to stop her). Koharu told him that it was for her arts and crafts channel.

Before Koharu picks the first bag, Mr. Oda stops her. “But first,” he says, “My gift.”

…ah, right.

She saw him knitting several times already, but she is an award-winning actress. Surely Koharu can feign surprise.

Mr. Oda pats around his pockets until he finds the gift. “Close your eyes.”

Koharu does.

“Hold out your hand.”

Koharu does. He places something like… glass…? On it.

“Open your eyes.”

Close—a seashell. “Oh,” Koharu says.

Nonchalantly, Mr. Oda begins to pick up the bags.

It’s about the size of a ¥500 coin. It oscillates between brown and orange, depending on the angle where the light hits it. By the time Koharu slips it into the pocket of her trenchcoat, she realizes that she’s tearing up, but she. Will. Not. Ruin. Her. Makeup.

“I’m not carryin’ all of these.”

“Ah. Sorry.”

With Otohama in her pocket and eight bags in each hand, Koharu heads out, with Mr. Oda behind her.

It’s a happy night. She won’t cry.

Mr. Oda says nothing when she keeps the elevator closed for just a little bit longer. They’re playing her music in the lobby, but it’s not one of the albums she likes. It’s one of her first, where she had to fake a higher voice and didn’t get to write her own lyrics.

“Koha-chin?”

“Ready, Oda-chin,” she replies.

They emerge; Munetoshi stands right beside the elevator, cross-armed. He narrows his eyes at the gift bags as though they’re bombs. “Calm down,” Mrs. Oda tells him. “Yours are the best.”

“That’s not true,” Koharu lies.

“Ms. Fujinomiya. Mr. Oda. What’s inside those bags?”

“Bombs,” she replies.

Mr. Oda smacks Munetoshi’s side with the bags, making him jump. “No one’s gonna die tonight, glass boy. Calm down.” He walks past them.

Koharu thinks of doing the same, but then she might become ‘no one’. “I promise you’ll like it,” she tells Munetoshi. “It’s not a Koha-chin gift. It’s a… Koharu gift?”

“Even worse.”

So he’s going to be like this until the end, huh? “Could you at least help me carry these? Please?”

He reaches out to her, pauses, then tucks his hands into his pockets. “...nah. Using your upper body should be safe, no?”

…demon.

By the time they reach the banquet again, Mr. Oda has already been pillaged. The bags are named, so it’s not too bad. Munetoshi stops being a demon for long enough to help her distribute the rest of the bags.

Once everyone has one—even Gaillard, whose gift has been placed next to the tablet—Koharu begins: “Thank you soo much for having me here! I had such a fun time. I learned soo much! I…” to then trail off. This is where she would give a cold, sterile speech, but she doesn’t want to taint the memory. To say what she feels would end in tears. “...hope you like my gifts. Go on, open them!”

Mrs. Matsueda all but rips her bag in half.

Eguchi’s husband incredulously points at himself before his wife opens it for him.

Soujiro has received these before, but he smiles anyway.

Mittens.

Mittens for everyone!

“Ahh, not fairrr!” Gaillard says, “I can’t believe I have to wait a month to wear mine!”

Munetoshi asks, “Weren’t you the one who went around measuring everyone’s hands?”

“Still!”

While everyone else celebrates, he doesn’t open his bag. Is it because he knows what his look like?

Everyone eats, and laughs, and jokes. It’s the first and last time Koharu attends a party. Some events might pantomime this, but in the end, all they’re good for is entertaining somebody else. They’re work.

It’s the last time she sees Mr. Oda.

The last time she sees Mrs. Matsueda.

The last time she heads to the specialized room.

The last time Munetoshi shows up for his night round.

The last time they exchange playlists.

The last time she fails to fall asleep.

These are all happy memories. Why do they hurt so much?

***

Weeks ago, Toshi asked for the day off so he wouldn’t show up at the clinic. So of course he ends up doing just that.

Three cabs wait outside of Otohama Medical Center. Hino and Koharu go back and forth, carrying one pink suitcase after the other. Though she shouldn’t have to, Dr. Shimazu stands at the entrance.

It’s cloudy, but it doesn’t look as though it’ll rain today. Good. It’ll be a long, tiresome trip.

Toshi knows he shouldn’t.

He knows it’ll hurt.

So of course, he ends up helping anyway. He thinks of greeting them, but how? Everyone is so quiet. Upon noticing him, Hino gives a small nod, but that’s it. He looks as gray as the rest of the world.

Koharu says nothing. She does nothing. She doesn’t even meet his eyes.

That’s for the best, isn’t it?

Sooner than later, the cabs are full, and Otohama empty. There’s nothing to do anymore, but to leave. Strangely, Hino’s only goodbye is a wave. Toshi would’ve thought he’d at least talk to Dr. Shimazu. Perhaps they weren’t as close as they seemed?

Once he does this, and she reciprocates, he gets into his car.

There’s nothing else to do but to leave.

Just before Koharu gets in, at last, she looks at Toshi. He looks at her. Neither of them smile.

She opens her mouth, but she can’t say it. Take care.

Toshi nods once. You too.

Soon, ss the first car turns to leave, he allows his mind to wander for a second.

“Koharu, wait!”

As he breaks out running, she slams the door open. Hino has barely had time to park when she leaps out, towards Toshi, into his arms.

It would be nice, wouldn’t it?

But it would also be silly. They only knew each other for three months. She’ll move on. So will he. He always does.

Long after they’ve left, Toshi stands there, staring at the street, then the sky. Knowing her, she’ll check his profile a few times. He’ll post sunsets for a week or two. Eventually, even this cold front will dissipate, so she'll get to see a good one.

Toshi stands there because there’s nothing else to do. It’s his day off. Tomorrow he’ll show up to work. Soon, the next patient will die. Soon, the clinic will shut down. Otohama will become one of many, many places in this world where there’s no one left to watch the sunrise along with it.

There’s nothing else left to do but to mourn.