Chapter 2: Camaraderie
Zevon forced his head off the table, and slapped each of his own cheeks alternatively with his own hands, trying to bring himself to some level of alertness again. He only had three charts left after having written up over a dozen. Most of the trauma victims were in comas – most likely caused by traumatic brain injury, though it was strange that every single victim initially was unconscious. If the cause was physical trauma, it seemed to him that there would have been at least a few that managed to stay out of the creature's way, but his peers and mentors had just laughed at his objection.
"You haven't lived in Tokyo long enough Zevo-kun. None of the rules apply. Not when the Sailor Senshi are involved."
He had ordered the CT scans and MRIs, but with so many patients all at once, and Radiology backed up beyond belief even before the influx of new patients, it would be days before anyone had answers. A few of the victims woke up within hours of being admitted, so Zev had hope that the others would be okay as well.
"Stonay-san," a soft voice interrupted his musings. He smirked at the way most of the Japanese pronounced his last name – not grasping the concept of the silent "e" at the end of "Stone".
"Tsukino-san," he greeted the blond social worker with a gentle smile. "Do you want me to check if Mamoru-san is available?"
"No!" she cried urgently. "I actually came to see you, or one of his other friends."
He raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"
"I'm planning a surprise party for his birthday next month and I was hoping that you could help me draft the guest list. Or at least get addresses or numbers for some of his friends here at the hospital."
"Sure! I can do that," he drawled. "But doesn't Mamoru-san hate surprises?"
"Not usually from me," she explained with a straight face.
He laughed. "Fair enough. So what exactly…"
A happy synthetic melody interrupted his question.
"Oh sorry! This could be important," she said holding up the singing cell phone.
"Ami-chan!" she greeted brightly. Her smile faded immediately into a mask of concern. "Ami-chan? What's wrong?"
He sat awkwardly not being able to hear the other side of the conversation, but understanding implicitly that something was awry so it would feel rude to not continue to give her his attention and just keep working.
"Where are you?" she asked urgently. "Ami… Ami-chan, I can't understand you."
"Don't move. I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she said a few seconds later.
She hung up the phone.
"I hope everything's okay," Zevon offered.
"It will be," she assured him confidently. "Anyway, I have to run!" She tore a sheet of paper from a notepad and scribbled something onto it. "Here's my number. Call me when you have a list of names and addresses."
"When do you need it by?" he asked rapidly, knowing she was in a hurry.
"Within a week would be amazing."
He nodded. "No problem!"
She gave him a half smile and dashed away.
"Don't tell Mamoru!" she called back before disappearing down the hall.
"Don't tell Mamoru what?" the familiar baritone interjected into the sudden silence.
Zev whirled around face to face with his raven-haired fellow resident.
"Mamoru-kun!" Zevon greeted with false brightness. "Uh… how long have you been standing there?"
"Not long enough apparently… She's planning a surprise party isn't she?"
"Uh..."
"It's okay. You don't have to confirm anything. It's just not that much of a surprise when she does it every year," his friend mused with a slight smile.
Zev rolled his eyes at this obvious display of affection. He hoped to never be that lost on a girl.
"Well, since you already know, maybe you can save me some time Mamoru-san!"
"And you call yourself my friend!" Mamoru mock countered. "I thought you would care enough to make my surprise party a night to never forget!"
"Challenge accepted," Zev agreed. "I will help your lady with planning, but you can still make the guest list for me. That way it'll have all the right people on it."
"I'd be happy to introduce some of them to you tonight."
"Perfect! That way when I abandon you for some cute little thing, you can't be all butt hurt about me leaving you alone!"
…
Usagi waved to Hanako – the security lady she had gotten to know quite well since Minako, Makoto, and Ami had moved into the pent house apartment that Minako singlehandedly financed for the three of them – as she moved immediately for the elevator.
The blond darted into the tiny lift and pressed the button for the top floor before the doors had even completely opened, anxious to get upstairs. Nothing shook her reserved and collected friend's foundation, and to hear the girl crying so hard that she was incoherent, well, it unsettled Usagi's nerves.
She could not get off the elevator fast enough, but luckily she didn't have to knock knowing Ami had left the door unlocked for her.
She found the broken hearted blunette wrapped up in a blanket hunched over a pillow sobbing. The blond instantly cradled her friend's wracking form, and rocked with her.
"Ami-chan, what happened?" Usagi whispered soothingly.
"R…Ryo-kun… broke up with me," she managed through her sobs.
"Yeah, you said that on the phone. Which is why I ask what on earth happened!"
"I deserved it," Ami whispered.
"What?" Usagi objected staring at her supposedly genius friend in disbelief, "I don't believe that."
"But I did! And I do! I've been such an awful girlfriend," she sobbed.
"Ami-chan," Usagi said softly. "You're not an awful girlfriend."
"But I was. He said I always put him second. It's true. I have always done that! Third really – between being in med school and being a senshi. I have always taken him for granted. Assumed that he would always be there."
"Cut yourself some slack Ami-chan. You probably come closer than the rest of us, but even you can't be perfect all of the time."
"I feel lost," she admitted. "But more than that… I mostly feel relieved. No more mandatory phone conversations at night. No more making myself go to that improv comedy special. And then I just feel terrible! I'm going to miss him terribly! I can't believe he's gone!" she choked out. "I feel like such an awful person and an awful girlfriend. How could I do that to anyone?"
"Ami-chan, feeling obligated to someone doesn't make you awful. It makes you human. And it certainly doesn't mean that you didn't care about him! And if you say you didn't want to talk to him every night – maybe this is a good thing! If you're going to spend the rest of your life with someone they should at least pass the traffic test."
"The what?"
"The traffic test!" Usagi squealed delightedly. "I can't believe there's a test you haven't heard of. It's where you're actually hoping for traffic so that you can spend more time with the person!"
"I don't think that's a real test," Ami objected automatically.
"Ami-chan, it's just a way to think about it. It's a way to follow your heart rather than your head."
"But how will I ever find someone that fit into my life as perfectly?" she asked. "Ryo-kun knew me so well, understood me and my passions, and always supported me. I didn't even have to hide Mercury from him – he accepted that part of me as well. Why couldn't I love him the way he loved me?"
"Love is not something you can force. It's not something you can make make sense or fall into a rational logical pattern."
"Why not?" she whined petulantly.
Usagi stared at her hard in complete disbelief. "Are you serious?"
Ami nodded emphatically with such a genuine desire to know that Usagi couldn't help but fall into giggles. "You're something else Ami-chan."
"Don't laugh at me Usagi!" the other girl objected, hitting her playfully with the pillow. But now Ami's sobs were punctuated with a few broken laughs of her own.
"You're going to be okay Ami-chan. I promise. And I'm certain there's someone out there who is perfect for you."
"You think so?"
Usagi nodded emphatically. "But be warned. He may also drive you to the edge of madness."
Ami hit her with the pillow again.
…
"Motoki-kun! Over here!" Mamoru called out waving over two of his friends to where Zevon and he had found a high-rise table next to the bar. The location was ideal as it was incredibly easy for them to get the bartender's attention, but they didn't have people leaning over them either.
"You really have a thing for blonds," Zevon commented dryly as Mamoru's friend weaved their way through the crowd, easy to spot through the crowd with his distinctive golden cap.
"You must be glad you made the cut," Mamoru shot back before he rose in greeting to his friends. "This is Furuhata Motoki – he and I go way back – I think to grade four."
"Grade three," the boyish face corrected with a friendly grin as he bowed his head slightly in greeting to Zevon. The blond resident returned the expression without thought.
"Three? Really?"
"Yeah, you transferred in halfway through the year. Always an honor to meet anyone Mamoru calls a friend," Motoki said with another disarming smile.
"Right! And this is Hayashi Nobuo," Mamoru introduced the other man with flowing chestnut hair, who stood casually in a navy blue blazer and slacks that fit the man and his tall height so well Zevon suspected the attire was custom tailored. He had the air of confidence that came with status and wealth. "He and I attended KO University together. We took more than a few political science classes together."
"And this is Stone Zevon," Mamoru started.
"Don't do that to my name Mamoru-kun," Zevon interrupted. "It just sounds weird! It's Zevon Stone," he corrected offering a hand to each man in turn. "You can call me Zevon. We're in the same residency program."
"You're going to regret sharing that fact," his jet-black haired friend murmured.
It took an hour before Zevon figured out what Mamoru was talking about. Apparently, Hayashi-san was some corporate heir – and his father was CEO of an international company called Medtronic Inc., the four largest medical company in the world, and Hayashi fancied himself a bit of a medical expert.
"So you see," Hayashi was explaining animatedly, "if we could get the hospital to adopt the whole fee-for-value instead of fee-for-service model quality of care would increase and at the lowest possible cost for the consumer."
Zevon forced himself to nod, though he had really stopped following the abstract business model that the massive broad shouldered brunette was explaining. He waved down a passing server and indicated he wanted a refill.
Nobuo stood up from the table at that point holding up a vibrating phone before he stepped away from the table.
"You have the patience of a saint, Stone-san!" Motoki told him. "I swear he's not usually this bad – next time, just don't ever let him start talking about anything medical."
"I don't know," Zevon disagreed, "Who else is going to push back on his business synergy lingo bullshit?"
Mamoru laughed. "I suspect it's a lost cost Zevo-kun."
"So what do you do Furuhata-san?" Zevon asked.
"I also am in the family business! But nothing so grand as a global industry. My family owns a strand of restaurants throughout Tokyo and I spend most of my time running one of them. It's just a little hangout spot for teenagers mostly, but it's my favorite establishment of all that we own."
Zevon was surprised at how quickly the evening passed by – he felt engaged in the company and conversation. He gaze hadn't wandered to the female variety at all the entire evening. Normally, he was so fidgety he couldn't sit still or focus on anything in such a loud environment.
The only hiccup was when Zevon had tried to close out his tab.
"It already been paid for sir," the bartender informed him.
"What? By whom?"
"Hayashi Nobuo arranged to cover all of your tabs at your table. Is this a problem?"
Zevon released a sigh of exasperation. "No, no, it's fine.
"Thanks Nobuo-kun!" Motoki cooed.
"Yeah, thanks man," Mamoru echoed.
Zevon forced himself to nod in agreement, though he wasn't sure he felt particularly grateful. On one hand, he had just sat through essentially a corporate slogan sales pitch on values-based healthcare, whatever that actually was and so he felt entitled to have his drinks paid for as compensation. But on the other side Zevon suspected that Hayashi made the gesture more to establish his own status, than it was to treat all of them.
Then he left roaring away in a red convertible Ferrari.
"You lasted the whole night," Mamoru commented as they watched Hayashi drive away with a dignified wave in his red convertible Ferrari.
"Is that guy for real?"
Mamoru laughed. "I know he's too cool for his britches and a tad condescending at times, but if you grow up spoiled and with millions, how can you not be?"
Zevon grunted by way of response. "It's fine Mamoru-kun. Clearly I enjoyed myself – I lasted the whole evening."
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"Have a good night! Say hello to your lady for me."
"Will do," Mamoru agreed with a smile. And they parted at the corner.
…
"Surprise!"
Ami groaned as she reluctantly widened the door to let the three girls in. "What are you all doing here?"
"We're throwing a "Cheer-Up-Ami-because-she's-the-sweetest-most-deserving-girl-and-Ryo-is-an-idiot party!" Minako spoke rapidly managing to get out the whole thing in one breath.
"He is not!" Ami countered immediately.
"Also!" Minako said over the objection, "I live here!"
"I don't," Usagi said as she greeted Ami with a hug, "but I hope you'll have me anyway!"
"You won't even let us bad mouth your ex?" Rei mock complained. "Come on Ami-chan! You don't have to be loyal anymore. Let us at least vent our own frustration and anger with him."
"We're certainly not going to let you sulk all evening blaming yourself!" Makoto chimed in as she came in from the kitchen holding out a platter full of mini cakes toward her graceful, if emotionally distraught, genius roommate.
"You made honey-peach cake?" Ami asked, her eyes softening in acceptance of the event.
"With sugared pistachios! Just for you!"
"Mina-chan, don't you have a shoot tonight?" Ami asked around a mouthful of her favorite Makoto delicacy.
"Would you believe that both my make up artist and photographer came down with food poisoning?" Minako exclaimed dramatically.
"No," Ami said flatly. The other three girls laughed.
"A more likely tale is that Minako told them that she had food poisoning," the tall brunette chimed in. "But that's what friends do," she chided Ami before the girl could object.
"We thought we'd start with a make-over!" Usagi exclaimed excitedly.
"Have you ever thought about dying your hair black?" Rei threw in casually, holding up a box of the appropriate color.
Ami turned toward the miko in horror, "Absolutely not!"
The girls relented and let her get away with keeping simple. She received a matching manicure and pedicure, followed by a rejuvenating facial treatment. And Ami kept touching her fingers to her face reveling in how soft her skin suddenly felt.
Usagi then insisted they all watch a movie together. It was ridiculous – and Ami found herself laughing in spite of everything.
…
Zevon held the receiver to his face listening to the rhythmic ringing – counting each one as it passed.
"Hi Zevon," the familiar alto voice spoke into his ear.
"I didn't wake you up did I?" he asked urgently.
"It's eleven in the morning here Zev. Are you drunk? Usually, you know the time difference better than I do."
He blushed guiltily, grateful that she couldn't see him through the earpiece.
"It's fine," she assured him. "You can drunk dial your mother. She's the one person in the world that always wants to hear from you."
"It's not a drunk dial," he insisted defensively. He wasn't that far gone. He called her intentionally once every week. "I just went out with the guys. Just came in. Figured it was Saturday morning for you. "
She laughed. "I do not understand how you manage to live in a residency and still go out. You sure you're studying enough?"
"Yes mom. You know that I always put my patients first," he assured her.
"And are you sleeping? A full nine hours?" she interrogated.
"You know I'm fine. How are you?"
"All of my advisory got accepted into college!"
"Congratulations mom! I know that's four years worth of work and endless patience finally paying off."
"We spent the week celebrating. The students threw me a surprise appreciation party yesterday. They even brought in a gluten free cake!"
"Thoughtful of them!" He commented smiling at the anecdote. She was having a good week. That meant he would sleep well tonight.
…