Chapter Twenty Four

Genrou grabbed his briefcase from the booth and locked the car before making his way to the hospital entrance. The doors slid open, and the refreshing cool of the air-conditioners greeted him. Smiling slightly to the receptionists on duty, he hurried in, his steps moving quickly towards the doctors' block. As he waited for the elevator, his gaze fixed on the floor tiles.

It was not like he had never been part of a tragedy. During his internship alone, he had witnessed so many times the agony that came with death, not to mention his time as a surgeon and practitioner.

Yet this time is different, he silently admitted. I didn't know Hikou Yutake as a person. I couldn't save him. But it mattered to—to—

The lift doors opened, and he stepped in, almost glad to have his thoughts interrupted. He knew how dangerous it was when doctors got preoccupied with their failures, so set back by them that they could never heal again. And he shuddered at the thought.

But still… The guilt plagued him. That, as well as the fact that he was in downright, complete misery.

"I'll never see him again," he said aloud. The words echoed emptily in the lift, and he looked down, tightening his grip on his briefcase and forcing the tears back. I'll forget him, and he'll become a memory, and I'll look back on it all and think it was funny…

The chime tinkled softly as the elevator reached the intended floor, and the doors started to slide open, smoothly and with a soft swish. He hurriedly brought the back of his hand up to draw across his face, smoothing the tears dry. He would not let personal problems interfere with his work. It had become a personal mantra.

I will not let personal—

"Hey."

Shock coursed through his veins as his head snapped up and the briefcase fell from fingers that had suddenly gone numb.

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Houjun almost enjoyed the look on Genrou's face. Almost, but not quite, because standing there now, with nothing between them, no more excuses to be spoken, a million different emotions rushed through him.

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He looked disheveled, to say the least, with his white shirt rolled up to his elbows and the top few buttons undone, his bluish hair falling over his face into his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and perspiring.

He was at the cemetery when I left…god, he must have ran all the way here.

As if he had read his mind, Houjun bit his lip, and shook the bangs out of his face, hand still holding the door open. "I ran all the way up."

Genrou didn't quite know what to do, so his facial expression stayed frozen in that of stunned amazement.

Is he really here?

A nurse popped out behind Houjun, her glare suspicious as she cleared her throat. "I'm going to have to ask you to stop blocking the elevator like that, mister—oh good morning, Doctor Genrou!"

He ignored her, but kept his gaze fixed on Houjun as the older man released the bar and stepped into the lift, his hand snaking out to press the 'Close' button on the wall.