Chapter Seven I’ll Be Seeing You Again
Chapter Seven
I'll Be Seeing You Again
Renji did not smile until the intensive care doors closed behind him. It was barely a smile — the faintest easing at the edge of his composure, nothing anyone passing in the corridor would have noticed, nothing that should have mattered. It vanished almost immediately.
Renji stopped walking. For several seconds, he stood alone beneath the harsh ceiling lights, one hand still resting against the folder he carried.
The corridor smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee.
Machines hummed behind closed doors. Somewhere further along the ward, a nurse laughed quietly before remembering the hour and lowering her voice.
Everything was ordinary. His reaction was not.
Renji looked back through the glass panel. From where he stood, he could see only the end of Haruki Ishida's bed and the edge of the monitoring screen. Haruki himself was hidden behind the curtain.
That should have been the end of it. A patient had survived. The surgery had succeeded. The brief satisfaction he felt required no deeper explanation. Doctors smiled when people lived. Renji had done so thousands of times. Perhaps not recently. But that meant nothing.
He turned away.
Akiko was waiting at the nurses' station, pretending not to be. Her attention was fixed on a tablet displaying Haruki's latest results, though the page had not changed since Renji approached.
"You were in there a while," she said.
"Fourteen minutes."
"That is a while for you."
"He required a neurological assessment."
"And?"
"Normal."
"No deficits?"
"None apparent."
"Memory?"
"Intact."
"Personality?"
Renji placed the folder beside her.
"Unfortunately."
Akiko looked up. There it was again — that same faint movement near his mouth. This time Renji stopped it before it became visible. Akiko's eyebrows rose.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You are looking at me strangely."
"I've known you for eleven years."
"That does not answer the question."
"In eleven years, I have seen you smile at a patient twice."
"That is inaccurate."
"Three times, then."
"I smile."
"You reassure. You soften your voice. Occasionally you look less severe."
"I am not severe."
Aoi passed behind them carrying a tray of medication. She slowed. Akiko looked at her.
"Is he severe?"
Aoi glanced between them.
"I value my employment."
"You see?" Renji said.
"That was not agreement."
Aoi continued down the corridor before either could involve her further. Akiko leaned against the counter.
"He likes you."
"He is heavily medicated."
"He liked you before the medication."
"He was in haemorrhagic shock."
"You have a medical explanation for everything."
"I am a doctor."
"He asked whether you were married."
"Head injury."
"Partner?"
"Blood loss."
"He told you he would see you again."
"Poor judgement."
Akiko smiled.
"And you told him you hoped not."
"That is the preferred outcome after successful trauma surgery."
"You could have said goodbye."
"I did."
"No. You rejected him clinically."
Renji picked up Haruki's laboratory report. Haemoglobin low but stable. Liver function deranged, as expected. Lactate improving. Nothing alarming. Nothing requiring him to continue standing there.
"He was not proposing anything," Renji said.
Akiko's expression turned almost compassionate.
"Oh, Renji."
He looked at her.
"What?"
"You genuinely didn't know."
"Know what?"
"That he was flirting."
"You already said that."
"And you dismissed it."
"Because it was irrelevant."
"Was it?"
"Yes."
Akiko watched him too carefully. Renji disliked being observed when he had not invited it.
"You have another patient," he said.
"So do you."
"I have several."
"Then perhaps you should go and see them instead of reading Mr Ishida's blood results for the fourth time."
Renji looked down. The report in his hand had indeed been reviewed already.
"I was checking the trend."
"The trend has not changed in ninety seconds."
"That is how trends work."
Akiko laughed. Renji left before she could continue.
The emergency department had quietened. Not truly — hospitals never became quiet, they only changed the kind of noise they made.
The shouting and alarms of the mass casualty arrival had faded into the lower rhythm of treatment.
Curtains were drawn. Families waited beside vending machines with untouched drinks.
Nurses spoke in brief murmurs over computer screens.
Blood had been cleaned from the floor. The absence of it made the night feel unreal.
Renji walked through the remaining cases one by one.
Professor Takeda had required twelve stitches along her scalp and treatment for smoke inhalation.
Her left wrist was badly sprained. She had asked three times whether the surviving materials from the chamber had been recovered and once whether Haruki was alive.
When Renji entered her cubicle, she was sitting upright despite instructions to rest.
"You should be lying down," he said.
"I was."
"You are not now."
"I became tired of the ceiling."
"That does not make sitting upright advisable."
She gave him a tired look.
"You sound exactly as he described."
Renji paused.
"Who?"
"Haruki."
The use of Haruki's first name felt oddly deliberate.
"What did he describe?"
"You."
Renji checked the oxygen reading attached to her finger.
"What did he say?"
"That you were infuriating."
"That is not medically relevant."
"He seemed to enjoy it."
"Mr Ishida enjoys several things that are medically inadvisable."
Professor Takeda smiled faintly.
"He asked about everyone before they took him upstairs."
"That is unsurprising."
"Is it?"
"He considers them his responsibility."
"He had met most of us only hours before."
Renji adjusted the flow of oxygen.
"Responsibility does not always require familiarity."
The words left him before he examined them. Takeda studied his face.
"No," she said quietly. "I suppose it doesn't."
Renji stepped back.
"You will remain for observation until your breathing improves."
"I need to speak to the police."
"They can speak to you here."
"And the others?"
"Professor Minamoto is stable. Jun is still in theatre."
"Haruki?"
"Recovering."
The answer came too quickly. Takeda noticed. Renji could tell she noticed because her expression altered by almost nothing. He disliked people whose work depended on studying fragments. They paid too much attention to what others tried not to show.
"He saved us," she said.
Renji looked towards the curtain.
"So I understand."
"No."
Her voice changed.
"The reports won't explain it properly."
Renji remained still. Takeda lowered her eyes to her hands.
"He could have reached the passage before any of us. He was closest to it when the door opened."
"But he stayed."
"He carried Jun."
"That likely worsened his injuries."
"He knew."
Renji remembered the damage inside Haruki's abdomen — the angle of the wound, the torn artery, the bruising that spoke of a body forced to keep moving after it should have fallen.
"He stayed behind when we couldn't move fast enough," Takeda continued. "He told us to leave him."
"And yet you did not."
"Professor Minamoto dragged me."
A tremor entered her voice. Renji did not interrupt.
"He stood between us and them with a folding knife."
"A poor choice of weapon."
"It was all he had."
"He should not have remained."
Takeda looked up.
"You would have."
Renji held her gaze.
"That is different."
"How?"
"I am trained to preserve life."
"So is he."
"He is not a doctor."
"No."
She looked towards the corridor Haruki had been taken through hours before.
"But he seems to believe everyone around him is his to protect."
The sentence stayed with Renji longer than it should have. He checked Takeda's chart once more, gave instructions she was unlikely to follow and left the cubicle.
Jun Sato survived the operation. The damage to his femoral artery had been repaired, but the leg remained at risk. Vascular surgery had restored circulation. Orthopaedics had stabilised the fracture. The next twenty-four hours would determine how much tissue could be saved.
Renji stood outside recovery while the surgical consultant explained the prognosis to Ken. Ken had changed clothes, though blood still darkened the skin beneath his fingernails. He listened without interruption.
"Will he walk?" he asked.
"We don't know."
"Will he keep the leg?"
"We don't know."
"What do you know?"
"That he is alive."
Ken closed his eyes briefly. The consultant excused himself. Renji remained. Ken opened his eyes.
"How's the Boss?"
"Stable."
"That isn't an answer."
"It is the most accurate answer available."
"Did he wake up?"
"Yes."
"Was he himself?"
"He complained about his jacket."
Ken's shoulders lowered. A fraction. But enough.
"Then he's fine."
"He is not fine."
"You didn't see the jacket."
Renji almost understood the humour. Almost. Ken looked through the recovery window. Jun lay beneath blankets, surrounded by machines.
"He'll blame himself."
"For Jun's injury?"
"For everyone."
"That is irrational."
"That's Haruki."
"Then someone should tell him."
Ken looked at Renji.
"You volunteering?"
"No."
The answer arrived too fast. Ken smiled. It was the same expression Akiko had worn. Renji found it irritating.
"What?" he asked.
"He mentioned you in the ambulance."
Renji said nothing.
"Kept trying to say your name."
"He had read it in the journal."
"So there was a journal?"
Renji realised the error immediately. Ken's expression sharpened.
"What journal?"
Renji stepped back from the conversation.
"Mr Ishida referred to one while disoriented."
"He wasn't disoriented."
"He had lost a significant amount of blood."
"Still knew who Reina was."
"Memory can be inconsistent during shock."
"Still asked about Takeda, Minamoto and Jun."
"That does not make every statement reliable."
Ken watched him.
"Whatever he said down there, don't repeat it."
Renji's face remained neutral.
"Is that a threat?"
"No."
Ken rubbed both hands over his face.
"Sorry. That came out wrong."
"How was it intended?"
"As a request."
"Requests usually include information."
"I don't have enough."