1 - Ordinary
The second time I saw you,
You were an ordinary girl.
A good doctor?
When could one call himself a good doctor?
Mamoru have been thinking about it for two days.
That morning, in class, the professor had scolded one of his classmates for yawning during the lesson.
"You down there, pay attention! To be a good doctor mastering Istology is essential!"
If it came down to learning notions, Mamoru had no doubts: he would become a superlative doctor, among the bests.
But the night before, after four hours of study, he had seen an interesting scene on tv, a doctor informing a patient of a fatal diagnosis. The doctor had been precise, avoiding dangerous sentimentalism. Had he been distraught, the patient would have come second in his mind. The doctor had even taken responsability for not finding out about the tumor earlier. The patient hadn't cared: he had complained about the doctor being heartless and unfeeling.
"You tell this to me with that face?"
Mamoru remembered the accusation.
The tv show hadn't helped him to understand who was right among the two. The question had been left open on purpose, maybe to allow the viewer to form his own idea on the matter.
Mamoru hadn't found an answer. He was still asking himself the same question: what was the right attitude for a good doctor?
Was it necessary to be compassionate all the time? Empathic?
He didn't lack heart. He had difficulty in showing he had one, but he wanted to become a doctor because he liked the idea of being helpful in desperate moments.
A human being couldn't be more generous than a doctor. Who else offered his life to years of unrelenting study, to learn the intricate details of a human body? It was all to be able to operate with the maximum knowledge, or to help a patient by providing him with the correct diagnosis. A body sometimes wasn't able to sustain life, betraying it without pity. Tumors, immunodeficiencies, mental problems...
His memory loss hadn't been considered a real illness, but he thought of it as one. He wanted a solution to that mistery. In the meantime, he would offer hope to others, by conquering their wellbeing. He didn't care about gratitude, he just wanted to know he had done something to improve people's lives.
This, he supposed, made him a person who could become a good doctor.
He brought the cup to his lips and finished drinking his coffee.
His break has ended, it was time to go back to his study books.
At four o' clock in the afternoon the arcade was crowded. Highschool students stood in line to sit in front of videogames.
He searched for Motoki among the mass of people. His friend was nowhere to be seen.
Someone had dropped a milkshake on a console, so probably Motoki was in the rear room, grabbing something to clean.
"Yeah, keep doing that, good!"
He turned around. From behind a game box appeared two buns of blond hair.
No, two blond odangos.
"Awesome, now throw a super kick!"
Odango atama. Her life goal was clear: she pushed others to win at videogames. So useful.
"Noo, he killed you! It happened to me too yesterday!"
Mamoru sighed.
Why was he so sarcastic when it came to her? She was just a thirteen - fourteen? - year old girl like many others. She didn't like to study, she enjoyed spending her afternoons with videogames and probably in front of the mirror to come up with new foolish hairstyles... And yet, she could become a valuable person too, in the future.
In her own way, she was compassionate. She was smiling at the boy who had just lost the game, encouraging him.
Maybe as an adult she could become a kindergarten teacher.
No. Even for a similar job one needed to be competent enough to pass middle school English exams with more than 30 points.
He got up from the table and headed for the exit.
Well, concentrate on your studies, kid.
I suppose we will never see each other again.