He makes no effort in slowing down once the building comes in sight.
He can't imagine what to say. He doesn't think this unhinged regret will let him say anything. Ever since his heart dropped when Nakamura said she collapsed, the thought of her being in pain unleashed something he can't stuff back in a cage. Maybe it's rage, maybe it's hope, or maybe it's solely the regret and denial of it all.
Panting, he reaches the front desk, paying no attention to the short line.
"Hana."
"If you could just take a seat, sir."
"Hana Takahashi. I need to see Hana Takahashi."
"Are you a family member?"
"No, but-"
"I apologize, but only family members are allowed at this time. I'll be right with you in a minute."
"No." He pants.
"I'm not leaving until I see her." Simple.
"Sir, there are three people ahead of you. If you could just take a seat that'll make this all easier."
"What's the room number? I'm not wasting any time."
"Kid, just take a seat." A man behind him says.
Profanities linger across his tongue, waiting to be spit out.
Through the haze of rage clouding his eyes, he looks down at the sheet in front of the receptionist.
Takahashi, Hana. Age 18. | Room 637 - Level 8
Luckily, the receptionist doesn't notice.
"Okay." He lies. He's gotten his answer.
He goes to the back of the line, and looks at the many signs above.
WAITING AREA
RECEPTION
ELEVATORS
Jackpot. Quickly, he slips out and makes his way past a nurse or two before getting in the elevator and going up to Level 8.
PATIENTS
Speed walking.
Room 634
Room 635
Room 636
Room 637
The last room of the hall. Etched on a piece of glass or metal, the numbers look dark. They seem tortured, maybe they are a sign from the universe that hasn't been deciphered. The handle of the door shines brightly, and that's the sign Ushijima takes as an invitation.
Gently, he opens the door.
A table when you walk in, to the right. A rough carpet with deep shades of maroon and gray. Three bottles of hand sanitizer and a bundle of face masks alongside a bottle of water and a stack of cups. Two pens, a notepad. Hana's medical chart, on the wall next to the brochures about the hospital. He squirts one pump of sanitizer and slips a mask on in a second.
There's a bathroom further ahead to the left, a big window straight ahead, the size of the wall. The view was green, there's a piece of land before the other buildings come into sight. A lawn.
He hears the beeping pattern of the machines. No one's in there. Pitch quiet, and he recognizes the white edge of the bed. His stomach drops again. Almost immediately he takes those two steps ahead to face her, in denial of where he stands.
This is it.
This is the moment where life is slimmed down to a grain of salt, a string of hay. A tight breath, not a blink.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
Lavender | Wakatoshi Ushijima
ФанфикHana Takahashi is the one fatefully assigned to help him. She is just as Wakatoshi Ushijima vividly remembers her to be. A beautiful soul, an intelligent mind. The heir of a prestigious family, destined for success. The top student and the poet wit...
