Katawa Shoujo - Akira Satou Route

Act 3-4 Kicking Off

"Ah, well, yeah, but..."

"No buts. Your health should always be a top priority, regardless of how busy you are; I'd like to think that my opinion as a medical professional is something valuable." he replies, cutting me off mid-sentence as he starts to shift into serious mode.

And here's where it all begins.

His fingers intertwine as he leans in, resting his chin on both hands. "Emi tells me you haven't been coming to the track. Why is that?" he asks, his features becoming more and more steely as he scrutinizes my expression.

"The first time I went there, I wound up having to pace myself. A simple walk was enough to get the blood flowing, and that's what I've been doing around here." I reply.

"A simple walk doesn't quite constitute 'exercise,' I'm afraid. You need to find some other way to push yourself, and I think the solution is obvious enough. Don't you?"

I nod my head, unsure of how to answer.

There's no doubt that I've been dodging any sort of physical strain, but to say I've become entirely sedentary is a bit of an exaggeration. I do plenty of walking around, whether it be throughout the campus or into town and back. It's not a workout, but it's something, right?

The track doesn't feel like an option to me at this point. Yeah, I don't feel like waking up at six in the morning, but that's not the only problem. I feel unwelcome there, for some reason; Emi's cheeriness this morning makes it all the more difficult to tackle the task as well, since I wouldn't want to disappoint her by making another half-hearted attempt.

A job isn't out of the question, although the fact that I'm still considering such a thing may as well be a testament to how much time I do have on hand.

No, I think the reason it's been floating through my head so much is because it's a way out. I can't go to the track, so why not find a different venue? Something where I can find some kind of success that isn't academia. It doesn't even have to be successful; I just want to feel like I'm good for something else!

"Are there any alternatives to the track?" I ask.

My question is met with a raised eyebrow and a look of suspicion. "There's plenty of ways to get exercise, you don't just have to go to the track. I'm not sure if you can swim, but we have a pool here as well as a number of other facilities."

Something besides the school! I don't want to be trapped here.

"What about physical labor? Like... if I tried to get a job?"

For some reason I cringe as the words leave my mouth. It's not that I have a problem with the idea of work, but for all I know there could be a policy restricting students from having jobs at all.

"I'll tell you the same thing as the handbook. Part-time work is allowed as long as it doesn't put you in danger, and it doesn't interfere with your studies." the nurse answers.

Oh. That worked out well, I suppose.

"Speaking of which; I'm pleased to hear that you're keeping up with your classes. Most students that transfer in this late in the trimester wind up on the wrong foot for the rest of the year." he adds on.

"Well, I had plenty of time to keep up with my studies over the past few months. It wasn't too hard to get up to speed, honestly." I comment.

"Now if only we could get you up to speed on your physical health." he jabs with a chuckle. "Alright, enough small talk; you know the drill."

He motions for me to take a seat on one of the beds behind the curtain nearby. I unbutton my shirt and set it down beside me before laying my undershirt down with it, bracing myself against the cold iron surface of a stethoscope.