I pull up my text conversation with Mom and tap out a quick message. “Made it to hospital.” Send. “They’re running tests.” Send.
My phone pings: response received. “Ok. Keep me posted.”
I glance at my battery life, and I’m only at 59%. Hopefully the wait won’t be that long.
“I’ll do my best.” Send.
Maybe the wait will be that long.
Phone battery: 50%.
Maybe I could also read a magazine?
I look around the waiting room for another table of them, but the one and only stash of them seems to be the one that Shizuka-san is pulling from, and she’s exuding a very “dragon on a pile of gold” aura.
Best not to risk it.
My phone pings with a text.
Hina-chan: “You ok? I haven’t heard from you all day.”
Oh shit, I completely forgot.
“I’m actually at the hospital. Fujimura got hurt at the game.” Send.
Ping. “They asked you to come with?”
“I offered.” Send.
Ping. “OMG that’s hilarious.” Crying-laughing emoji.
“IT’S NOT!” Send.
Ping. “LOL yeah it is, babe.” Ping. “Seriously, though. Are you okay?”
I stare at the screen for a moment. “I’m not even sure.” Send. “Talk later?” Send.
Ping. Heart emoji.
Phone battery: 37%. Should it be dying this fast?
Shizuka-san is so pretty. I used to have such a crush on her back when—Oh god, she caught me staring.
Tap tap tap. A taxi is how much? Fucking small towns.
Maybe buses will be—nope, they’ve stopped running for the night.
Dammiiiit.
“Shizu-”
Her eyes snap up to glare at me.
“Uh, Fujimura-san. I’m going to the vending machines. Do you want anything?”
“No.” She looks back down at her magazine.
Phone battery: 23%. Uggggh.
I approach the front desk.
“Excuse me. My phone is dying, and I was wondering if you had a charger I could borrow?”
“We don’t, no.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry to bother you.”
The nurse goes back to her paperwork.
I pace the floor until the front-desk nurse asks me to stop.
Aaaand my phone is dead. So much for “buying used phones will be cheaper”.
Finally, Fujimura’s mother returns. She looks… well, tired. Like she’s trying to hold on to those last scraps of adrenaline until they get home.
“They had to redo some of the imaging,” she says as she slumps into a seat between me and Shizuka-san. “The first one wasn’t clear enough, so they wanted to be sure that he’s fine.”
“...‘fine’?”
“Mobility, pain manageable, that sort of thing. They’re getting the discharge papers ready now. It shouldn’t be much longer.”
She rubs the exhaustion in her eyes, and I can’t help but feel like I’m somehow intruding just seeing her like this.
After a moment, she seems to remember something, and in my peripheral vision I see her grab her phone.
“God, it’s after 8. I’m so sorry you had to stay this late, Sakuragi-kun. And you completely missed dinner.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I lie. “And I did get a snack from the vending machine?”
She chuckles a little despite herself. “Well, you’re more than welcome to join us for dinner. I can’t guarantee it’ll be anything fancy, but we’d love to have you.”
I must develop x-ray vision, because I swear I see Shizuka-san’s eye roll through her mother’s head.
“Oh, um, thanks for the offer, Fujimu-”
She gives me a stern look.
“Sorry, Auntie. Thanks for the offer, but I…”
My mind tries to search for an excuse, but nope. 404: file not fucking found.
“I… I guess if it’s okay with my mom?” I wince a little at sounding so unenthusiastic, but I’m really not sure how much more I can handle today in the name of politeness. Fujimura-san isn’t the only one who’s running out of adrenaline.
It takes me a second to realize that Fujimura-san is still looking at me expectantly.
“Oh. Um, sorry, my phone died, I can’t actually call her.”
“That’s fine, I can text her. Her number hasn’t changed, has it?”
“Not recently, no.”
“Great!”
…
Yeah. Great.
Fujimura-san straightens, and my head comes up before I realize I’ve moved.
Fujimura Ren is walking towards us, and the movement feels momentous in a way that doesn’t fit the quiet waiting room.
He looks… well, alive, at least.He’s upright and awake, but there’s a carefulness to the way he moves, like he’s checking in with his body before committing to each motion. Whatever they gave him back there, it’s clear that some of it is still in his system.
Fujimura-san is already on her feet.
“How are you feeling?” she asks. She’s already fussing over him: straightening his jacket, fixing his matted hair. His face looks paler than it should be, but there’s not much she can do about that, I guess.
“Okay,” he says after a second, and his voice sounds out of practice. A little gravelly. “Kind of tired.”
He takes a step away – which Fujimura-san allows – and scans the waiting room.
His eyes find me almost immediately, and whatever reaction he has must be masked by his exhaustion.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I say back.
He doesn’t give a followup, and I don’t ask for one, and dear god this is all kinds of awkward.
“Well, shall we?” Fujimura’s mother steps in and starts shepherding us the rest of the way out. Shizuka-san stands too, efficient as ever, already grabbing her bag.
Automatic doors slide open. Cold night air rushes in, sharp and clean after hours of recycled hospital atmosphere.
Then the doors close behind us, and just like that, the hospital is on the other side of the glass.
The car ride blurs.
Auntie drives, and Shizuka-san takes the front row seat again. This just leaves Fujimura Ren to slide onto the back seat next to me.
We spend most of the car ride discussing various options for dinner before settling on udon.
And by “we”, I mean Auntie and Shizuka-san, since Fujimura looks like he could fall asleep at any second and I’m having an out-of-body experience riding in the Fujimuras’ car for the second time in 12 hours.
We make it to the Fujimura house, and I step out of the car. The front of the house is illuminated by the car’s headlights for a few seconds, and then: darkness. The night swims with afterimages, but they mix with memory and interpolation until none of them feel more than half-real.
Once we’re inside the main room, each of us scatters to a different corner of it.
Auntie and Shizuka-san flit between the kitchen and dining area, prepping everything at an impressive speed.
Fujimura himself is exiled to the far wall to rest on the sofa “or else”.
And then there’s me, hovering awkwardly just inside the doorway. I try once or twice to get Auntie’s attention, but she’s clearly in the zone, and I don’t want to disturb her.
“Start the water boiling!”
“Chop this! Now chop that!”
“Grab the extra chair! Yes, ‘Akira-kun’s’…”
She eventually notices me hovering, and I think I actually startle her a bit, which feels weird.
“Was there something you needed, Sakuragi-kun?”
That startles me – fair payback – and it takes me a second to remember what I was actually going to ask her. “Uhhhh oh! Do you guys have a charger cord I could borrow?”
“Sure! What kind do you need?”
“USB-C, I think.”
She pulls out a drawer in the kitchen and grabs a cord that looks like it should work.
“Perfect. Thanks, Auntie.”
She smiles and goes back to kitchen work while I make my way to the living room.
It’s only once I’m there that I remember that Fujimura is resting in the living room. His eyes are closed, but I don’t hear snoring, so I don’t think he’s asleep.
But still, he makes no sign of being aware that I’m in the room, so I step in as quietly as I can and sit in the chair closest to the outlet. A minute later my phone is charging, and a minute after that it pings as it powers itself back on.
I look up.
Still no movement.
When my phone has finished loading, I’m inundated by text notifications from Mom. “Are you okay?” “Call me.” “Did your phone die?” “Where are you?”
I pick it up and type back. “At Fujimuras’.” Send. “Fujimura’s mother insisted.” Send.
The response ping comes a minute later. “At gunpoint? Are you being held hostage?”
“LOL no. Just got held up.” Send.
Ping. “Fujimura ok?”
I look up. He still looks half-asleep. I hope that’s a good sign.
“I think so.” Send. “He’s here too.” Send.
Ping. “Holding the gun?”
“Ha ha.” Send. “Resting.” Send.
Ping. “Okay good.”
“How are YOU feeling, Mom?” Send.
Ping. “Not bad.” Ping. “Might take another pain pill.”
I hesitate. Another pain pill means she won’t be able to drive tonight.
“You should.” Send.
…Ping. “You sure?” Ping. “If you need me to wire ransom money somewhere, now’s the time.”
I laugh again, and my body freezes before I text back.
“I’ll be fine,” I write. And… send.
Mom responds with a thumbs-up emoji.
[2/11: Minor wording edits for clarity.]