Haitani Masayuki rose from his bed very slowly and rubbed the sleep form his eyes. He stumbled to the kitchen and opened up his refridgerator. As he did so, he noticed an envelope on the nearby countertop. As he picked it up, he saw that his name had been printed with black ink upon it and he instantly recognized Shirai's handwriting. He slipped a butter knife under the seal, and took out a small piece of lined paper with a letter written upon it.

Dear Haitani,

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I guess I shouldn't leave without telling you why I'm going first, ne? You've been a great friend to me, and I want you to be the first one to know that I've gotten married. I'm sorry for not asking you be the best man and all that. But truthfully, it was kind of well, spontaneous. You remember Haruka, right? Well, we've been dating for a while now, and we decided to keep it really quiet. I'm in love with her, Haitani, so, last night we eloped. I'll try to send you a postcard; we'll be honeymooning for a while. I'll be back eventually, so don't mess with my stuff, ok? I'll try to keep regular with the rent too. Don't worry about me financially. My parents set aside a bunch of stock for me. Oh, and I really do hope to be home for our big graduation.

Your friend,

Shirai

Haitani stood their for a minute, utterly shocked. Shirai and Haruka? The idea was... vile, to put it kindly. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the thought. At most, this was some sort of volatile prank. He sat down to eat his breakfast.

He arrived at the Tokyo Hospital a couple minutes early that morning. He walked through the door and was greeted by the receptionist, Yumi Harazaki.

"Good morning, Mr. Masayuki," she said with bright enthusiasm.

"Morning, Ms. Harazaki, what's on the docket for today?"

"You're just in time to dealing with a few stitches."

"Going in or out?"

"In, I think," she handed him a manila folder.

"Thanks, I guess I'll go suit up then."

"See you later, Haitani."

"Bye."

As he walked to the dress-out room, he flipped through the folder. It gave simple instructions from his supervisor on putting in stitches. Haitani had done such a task many times before, and ignored the document, placing it on the bench beside him as he ran through the combo on his locker.

He walked in to the sterile office and spotted his fellow intern, Yama.

"Morning, Haitani, you ready?"

"I guess so, patient out?"

"Out cold," he flipped back a part of the sheet, revealing bandaged midsection.

He picked up a pair of surgical scissors and cut away the bandage. Haitani tested the stitching needle against his gloved finger and tapped it lightly against the nearby sink.

"Haitani?"

He merely nodded, stepping over to the side of the patient. As Yama held the split abdomen together, he began stitching. They worked in silence.

"Wonder what the story is, huh?" asked Yama, breaking the silence as Haitani finished up the stitch.

"Probably a martial arts training accident," he answered, not moving his eyes from his precise work.

"How can you tell?"

"The angle of the cut, also the feel of the split of the skin suggests a Ki-strike from a katana."

Yama merely shrugged and peeled the latex gloves from his hands and began rinsing his hands, "she sure is a pretty one, though.

For the first time, Haitani looked at his patient, Yama was right. She was a pretty Japanese girl of about twenty. Her hair was a stark black against her comparatively pale skin. There was an odd memory of her features, and Haitani concentrated hard, trying to remember where he had seen her before. As he realized, he have a grin and breathed a silent curse.


Awaking from a violent nightmare, Motoko Aoyoma sat up suddenly with a scream. She looked fearfully around the room where she was, feeling a cold sweat. The room was dark, and she felt a terrible pain in her abdomen.

A shadowy figure came beside her, and, laying a hand on her shoulder, eased her back to the mattress. She breathed slowly, calming herself.

"Easy there, Aoyoma," spoke the silhouette with a man's voice.

"Who are you?" she inquired calmly, although her voice shook slightly with fear.

"I'm Dr. Masayuki; you're in the east Tokyo Hospital. It looks like you took a Katana to the stomach." Motoko grimaced, remembering the training session gone awry.

"Did you sow me up?"

"Yeah, you should be fine in a couple hours."

"Thanks, I guess."

"It's what I do."

Motoko sighed, letting her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness.

"What time is it?"

The man checked a light up watch, "about one-thirty in the morning. You should probably try to get some more sleep. It helps the healing."

"I'm not tired, I'd much rather do drills or something."

"You're not in much of a position for martial arts, so it's either you go back to sleep, or you enjoy the scintillating conversation I can provide."

Motoko paused, as if considering the question, "Flip the light on."

Haitani flipped on the light, and turned to face Motoko. He sat down at her bedside with a wry smile on his face.

Motoko looked around once again. The doctor was a young man, not much older than herself. He was certainly handsome, but there was something about his features he couldn't seem to place.

"Have we met before?" she inquired quizzically.

"I'm a friend of Keitaro Urashima's."

"Oh right! You were that jerk who asked my underage friends out to a Karaoke bar."

"That- that was a long time ago."

"I suppose you've changed since that amazing example of your charm?"

"I like to learn from my mistakes."

"That's always the first step.

Author's Note

That's right! It's Shirai x Haruka! Bet you guys didn't see that one coming, didja??? Well, the story really was getting a little too predictable... Stay tuned folks, sorry for the long delays, but school has started now so I don't have as much time as I would like to.