Chapter Eleven
He woke the next morning to sunlight so bright that his eyes began to tear instantly. He turned away on his side, and it was then that the awareness of the throbbing pain in his head sank into his consciousness. It felt cold despite the blankets that were piled over him, and he noted dimly that his feet were bare.
Where am I? What was I doing? Did I go somewhere?
The foggy puzzle pieces of memory seemed to float before his eyes, elongating and spinning slowly in the air. Then the sound of curtains being drawn back sharply caught his wavering attention, and he turned his head slowly to see a fair, plump-faced woman dressed in white with a candy stripper's hat perched on her head, nearly falling into her eyes as she smiled at him.
"Sir? You're awake? What would you like to have for breakfast?"
His gaze moved randomly, from the name engraved on the bright blue badge that was pinned neatly to her collar, to the long, silent tube that traced his fingers and ran up the side of the bed to a post. He was in hospital, then.
"Sir?"
His eyes focused on her again, barely, and she worried for a moment, stepping forward, unsure of what to do next, when he spoke. "Anything will be fine."
She beamed and turned on her heel, walking to the cart outside to get a tray.
@@@
Genrou looked around appreciatively at his new office. It was slightly smaller than the one he had had, but it seemed more spacious, especially with the lack of furniture albeit the necessary desk and a small, neat sofa bed. A large potted plant stood off to one corner, brightening the workplace. He glanced quickly at his desk and noted that his schedule had already been placed there. This hospital was in the main way of the city, and was therefore a lot more crowded. It was exciting, to stand there and know that he was a doctor, a surgeon, and a good one. At least, it was, until he remembered just why he had changed his post.
Angrily, he shut his eyes and ran the back of his hand roughly across his face. He would've thought that the tears would've dried already. How much could one cry?
The intercom on the wall beeped, its tiny red light flashing. "Paging for…"
@@@
The middle-aged woman sitting quietly in the chair outside the curtains as the nurses bustled within stared at her hands while her husband patted her shoulder, and then resumed pacing.
Hikou, my son, she thought with anguish. Why did this have to happen to you?
Her husband stopped in front of her. "We should let Kourin know, shouldn't we?" he asked, his hand already beginning to reach for the cell phone tucked in his front pocket. She nodded as her shoulder shook.
@@@
The phone rang. For a moment, they were both too drowsy to note the significance, before they both bolted up at the same time. Kourin lunged for the frantically ringing object and picked it up from where it had been tossed on the table, and fumbled for the button, finally clicking it.
"Hello?"