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Picture Credits: screengrab
Till Our Lives Burn Out
Chapter 004-This is This and That is That
(Part 1b)
4c. Crisis Power, Make Up!
It was bedlam as only a hospital emergency room can do it. The maintenance staff was removing the retractable wall that separated the emergency room from the neighboring commissary to create a large triage area, a feature specifically designed for just such an event as this. A woman with short, dark, blue tinted hair of medium height was watching the scene as the nurses and orderlies were moving stretchers and portable “donor” beds of the type used for blood donations into the room. Her confident expression suggested someone cracking their knuckles, preparing to impose order on the chaos, ruthlessly where necessary. She was Doctor Saeko Mizuno, Ami Mizuno's mother.
“All right, I want one nurse and orderly from our hospital with all of our guest physicians, to act as liaisons. Nurses you’ll stay with the doctors as all times, orderlies you’ll get them anything they want or anyone they need …”
“Yes, doctor,” said the assembled staff.
“Then …” she rattled off several more points in quick succession
The first ambulances were arriving along with several people in nurse’s uniforms, and a few people who were obviously doctors. Dr. Mizuno signaled them to come to her for assignment. She quickly learned the qualifications of everyone involved, and dispatched them to the triage areas where they could do the most good. She was about to start assessing patients, and realized she had assigned all the nurses elsewhere when a tall, olive skinned woman came walking up to her.
“I am Setsuna Meioh. What can I do to help?”
“Ah, Meioh-san, I’m Dr. Mizuno.”
“Oh, yes, I have been trying to get in touch with you.”
“I remember. Sorry we’ve been playing phone tag. Do you speak any European languages?”
“French, English and Spanish.”
“They’re all continentals, no English, but we’re really short on good foreign language speakers. So we can definitely use you. I need a nurse. Why don’t you stick with me? We might get a moment to have that chat later.”
“Excellent, Doctor. Gladly.”
Setsuna’s repertoire of foreign languages wasn’t as useful as hoped. Most of the injured sent to Juuban Secondary General were German. There were a few French from that other tour bus, and some of the Germans spoke a second language that the staff had covered. Unfortunately, many of the ones who could translate for the others were badly hurt, and the translation difficulties were compounded by technical terms of the medical profession. Some injuries were obvious, others less so. Dr. Mizuno, Setsuna, and the other triage doctors and nurses plowed in and did their best.
Kuryakin pulled the van into the hospital parking lot, and as he and Hotaru headed inside, he explained he would get her dinner from the commissary. It would be better than any fast food for Hotaru, who tended to shy away from anything greasy or otherwise heavy. Since the commissary was now also being used for triage, they had to work their way carefully through the confusion. Finally, he spotted Setsuna and Dr. Mizuno, standing next to a woman holding a young girl. Setsuna caught sight of them and waved, and a moment later Dr. Mizuno happened to look up.
“Oh, my. I think I just found someone who could help,” said Dr. Mizuno as she caught site of the tall man and very cute young lady heading over to the commissary’s cash register to see about getting some food.
“Kuryakin-san!” Dr. Mizuno called as she ran toward them.
“Dr. Mizuno. I wondered if I might run into you here.”
“Who’s this?”
“One of my students. Hotaru Tomoe, this is Dr. Saeko Mizuno.”
Hotaru nodded, but said nothing as Dr, Mizuno appeared to be in quite a hurry.
“Anyway, Kuryakin-san,” she spoke rapidly now, “I seem to remember you speak several foreign languages.”
“Including this one.”
“How’s your German?”
“Oh, passable.”
“You’re with me,” she commanded.
“Come along, Hotaru-chan,” said Kuryakin, as Dr. Mizuno grabbed his arm and began pulling him energetically along.
“Miss Meioh, a pleasure, as always,” he said, as he was dragged to the scene. The pleasant way he said that completely belied what he was really thinking at the moment. Setsuna, always striking, was even more so in a nurse’s uniform. Kuryakin found himself wondering if the air conditioning had suddenly failed. Then he directed his attention to the blonde haired woman, who was holding a little girl and looking very anxious.
“Deustche?”
(German?)
“Ja,” said the woman, a well dressed, thirty-something professional type.
(Yes.)
“Guten Tag,” Kuryakin said.
(Hello, lit. good day.)
“Guten Tag,” she replied.
“She seems to be okay,” Dr. Mizuno whispered in Kuryakin’s ear, “but we’re wondering about the girl.”
“Okay. Ist das ihre Tochter?” Kuryakin asked.
(Is this your daughter?)
“Ja,” said the woman, who looked very relieved to hear own language, spoken very well.
“Ist sie verletzt?”
(Is she hurt?)
“Ich bin mir nicht sicher. ”
(I’m not sure.)
“Kommen sie aus Hamburg? Ihr Akzent klingt so. "
(You are from Hamburg? Your accent sounds like it.)
“Ja,” the woman smiled a bit.
“Sie sprechen Plattdeutsch?”
(Do you speak Lower Saxon?)
“Ja.”
“Ooooo, Lower Saxon,” he smiled, looking up at Dr. Mizuno. “I must have an informal chat with her later.”
This was the first and only time Setsuna had ever thought he was intentionally showing off.
“Wo sollte der Ausflug denn hingehen?” Kuryakin continued, trying to set the woman further at ease.
(Where were you all going?)
“Zum Tokyo Tower, wir wollten zum Aquarium und dort später noch Essen gehen. ”
(To Tokyo Tower. We were going to see the aquarium, and then have dinner there.)
“War es ein schwerer Unfall?”
(Was it a really bad accident?)
“Ja, der Bus hätte sich beinahe überschlagen. Überall flogen Dinge umher, von denen die Leute getroffen wurden.”
(Yes, the bus nearly tipped over. Things were flying loose and hitting everyone.)
“Verstehe, kann ich mit Ihrer Tochter sprechen?”
(I see. May I talk to your daughter?)
“Ja.”
“Na meine junge Dame, wie ist denn dein Name?” he asked, as he touched the girl’s knee.
(What’s your name, young lady?)
“Ilse.”
“Her name is Ilse, short for Elizabeth,” he said to Dr. Mizuno.
“Ilse, ich heiße Peter. Wie geht es dir, tut es irgendwo weh?”
(Ilse, my name is Peter. How are you? Do you hurt anywhere?)
“Meine Brust tut mir so weh.”
(My chest is sore.)
“Bist du von etwas getroffen worden, als der Bus umgekippt ist?”
(Did you get hit there in the accident?)
“Ja, von einer Kamera”.
(Yes. By someone’s camera.)
“Eine Kamera?
(A camera?)
“Ja,” said her mother, “so eine professionelle, mit einen richtig großen Objektiv.
(Yes, one of those professional ones with a big lens.)
“Verstehe, sehr schwer also?”
(I see. Very heavy, then?)
“Ja.”
“Dr. Mizuno?” he said, motioning for her to get close. Then he began whispering something in her ear.
“Kuryakin-kun, are you just guessing here, or do you know?” she asked after a moment, in a silky voice with a sly smile and a familiarity all out of proportion for mere acquaintances.
'Kuryakin-kun?' thought Setsuna.
“Just trust me on this,” he said with a self-satisfied smile. Setsuna was surprised by how cozily Dr. Mizuno and Kuryakin were acting. It seemed to be almost a game with them. ‘Is there some ‘history’ here?’
“Meioh-san,” said Dr. Mizuno as she began feeling the girl’s neck, “put a digital blood pressure cuff on her, take a reading every minute, and let me know if her systolic pressure drops by more than 10mmHg.”
Dr. Mizuno was checking the girl for signs of jugular venous distention. She could feel some rigidity, so she put her stethoscope to the girl’s heart.
“Some suppression of heart sounds,” said Dr. Mizuno, after a minute or so, “but the lung sounds are good. No tension pnuemothorax.”
“Pericardial tamponade, then?” said Setsuna.
“Looks that way. Very good, Meioh-san, and you too, Herr ‘Doktor’ Kuryakin. Okay, tell her mother what we think is wrong and that we need to take her into surgery right away.”
“Frau? Wie war doch gleich ihr Name?”
(Ma’am, what is your name?)
“Schmitz. Helga Schmitz.”
“Frau Schmitz,” he said, bowing slightly to her, and then he explained that the sack around her daughter's heart was bruised, that blood filling the sack was putting pressure on the heart, and that she needed to go to surgery right away.
“Ich darf doch mitkommen?”
(Will I be allowed to go with her?)
“She wants to know if she can go with her,” he said to Dr. Mizuno.
“Tell her we really can’t do that, and then, if she insists, we’ll figure out something.”
“Frau Schmitz, es ist ein exzellentes Krankenhaus und Dr. Mizuno ist die beste Ärztin, den ich kenne. Ihrer Tochter ist dort in besten Händen. Lassen sie die Ärzte nur ihre Arbeit machen. Ich werde bei ihnen bleiben und für sie übersetzen, einverstanden?”
(Ma’am, this is an excellent hospital and Dr. Mizuno is the best doctor I know. She is going to give your daughter the best care possible. Let them do their job. I’ll be here all evening to help translate for you. Okay?)
The woman seemed to calm a little, and though reluctant, she surrendered her daughter the orderlies. They placed the girl on a gurney. Kuryakin bent over her, and smiled, trying to assuage the fear in her eyes.
“Ilse, diese Leute werden dafür sorgen, daß deine Brust nicht mehr weh tut. Es sind die besten Ärzte, hab keine Angst, bleib ganz ruhig, alles wird gut.”
(Ilse, these people are going to help get rid of that pain in your chest. They are very good at what they do. Do not be afraid. Stay calm. Everything will be fine.)
The girl relaxed and didn’t even seem to notice as one of the ER nurses slid a needle into her arm to anesthetize her. Her mother noticed though, and as the girl’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she passed through the double doors headed for surgery, Ms. Schmitz could barely stand to watch.
Kuryakin put a hand on her shoulder and began reciting:
Unse Vader in' Himmel!
(Our Father who art in Heaven, etc…)
Laat hilligt warrn dienen Namen.
Laat kamen dien Riek.
Laat warrn dienen Willen so as in'n Himmel,
so ok op de Eerd.
Uns' dääglich Brood giff uns vundaag.
Un vergiff uns unse Schuld,
as wi di vergeben hebbt,
de an uns schüllig sünd ….
Frau Schmitz then joined in:
Un laat uns nich versöcht warrn.
Mak uns frie vun dat Böse.
Denn dien is dat Riek un de Kraft un de Herrlichkeit in Ewigkeit.
Amen.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Kuryakin-kun,” Dr. Mizuno smiled. Setsuna found herself touched by the gentleness with which he comforted the woman and spoke to her. Hotaru was also watching closely, and could not help but smile. For one thing, Setsuna was doing it again.
“Hotaru, go wait over there please,” Setsuna said, noticing her adoptive daughter’s gaze.
“Can’t I stay, Setsuna-momma? I want to be a nurse, and I want watch you work. I promise not to get in the way.”
“You can watch, but stay with Mister Kuryakin,” she said hurriedly. “I am going to be very, very busy. I’m sure he'll explain to you what is happening.”
An orderly came over with a cup of coffee for Frau Schmitz. She took it gratefully and sat down.
“Was that last part Lower Saxon?” asked Hotaru.
“What makes you think so, Hotaru-chan?”
“It sounded a bit different from the German you spoke, Kuryakin-sensei.”
“Good ear, Hotaru-chan.”
“We need to know some things about her,” said Dr. Mizuno. “We have some help coming from the various embassies, soon. For now though, Kuryakin-kun, would you translate this for her and then write down her responses?”
“Certainly, Mizuno-chan,” she smiled and winked at her.
Doctor Mizuno moved on to another patient, and Setsuna moved dutifully along, forcing herself to focus on the task of the moment. The mystery of Hotaru’s tutor had just deepened and Setsuna’s desire to figure it out was back with a vengeance. She was used to his prescience by now. She was prescient herself and didn’t find it that unusual. In fact, she liked that about him, but this tour de force demonstration of erudition in both languages and physiology was astounding.
As more casualties from the accident arrived, Kuryakin, with Hotaru in tow, made himself available to do any translating that was needed. As soon as she felt she could, Hotaru would ask questions, and he would explain what the various doctors and nurses were talking about, what was wrong with the person they were examining, and likely what they’d do to help them. Those with minor injuries remained in the room while the more serious cases were taken to the appropriate units of the hospital for treatment. Forty minutes later, this discourse was interrupted when Hotaru’s stomach audibly growled.
“Hotaru-chan, it looks like they’re getting a handle on things now. Let’s get something to eat,” he smiled, and began leading her to the end of the room, where commissary staff was setting up to serve food to the unexpected crowd.
“Yes, Kuryakin-sensei. I am very hungry.”
He purchased sandwiches for them both, and they took a seat in the corner of the room at one of the few tables that hadn’t been removed.
“So nursing is something you’ve thought about doing, Hotaru-chan?”
“Yes,” she said as she took a bite out of a sandwich.
“Just like your Setsuna-momma?” he asked, smiling.
“That’s part of it, yes.”
“Well, maybe after midterms, I can get you started on a few things to help you there.”
Till Our Lives Burn Out
Chapter 004-This is This and That is That
(Part 2a)
After the initial rush, the staff at Juuban Secondary General seemed to be getting a handle on the crisis. No one seemed to need anymore translation help for the moment. The latest bunch of injured to arrive were all Japanese. Kuryakin was looking for some other way to help out when he noticed an upright piano near the wall. ‘Yeah, that’ll do,’ he smiled. He sat down, did a few runs, and his face twitched a bit. It was passably in tune, which for him meant atrocious. It was certainly not up to concert standards, but he had neither the time, the tools, nor the inclination to tune it. Hoping to provide a calming atmosphere, he played very softly at first, not wanting to make a nuisance of himself. He started with some classical, and then began mixing in what little Euro pop he could remember (read: tolerate), a few fado songs he liked, some Broadway show tunes, a few little original ‘thoughts’. Hotaru finished her sandwich and began to wander a bit while he was playing. She knew what it was like to be in pain –chronic and acute- and looked at some of the people with an “I wish I could do something to help” look on her face.
A few more injured arrived but they too were all Japanese: commuters and people heading out to do some shopping who were caught up in the accident. One of them, a boy with his very concerned looking father in tow, was the last of them. A nurse came over to help the boy. His father, a clean cut, white collar type, also appeared to be favoring his left wrist, but was much more worried about his son. The boy was in a lot of pain, and working hard not to cry. His shirt was off and he was showing bruising along the length of his collarbone. The EMTs had put his arm in a sling and given him something for pain, but it wasn’t enough, so the nurse gave the boy a reinforcing shot, and told him he’d go to X-Ray as soon as they could get him in there. Then she began examining his father’s wrist.
Hotaru had quietly come up behind the boy, and then looked around. Thirty seconds or so was all she would need. Kuryakin was focused on the piano. Setsuna and Dr. Mizuno were on the far side of the room. Everyone else was either too far away to notice what was going on in this corner of the room, or had their backs turned for the moment. She crouched down behind the bed, reached up through the plastic slats to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder from behind and a faint pink aura surrounded her. The boy felt the hand behind him and the relief of the healing. He turned to see who, or what, was doing this, but his vision was fuzzy from the morphine. In the haze, he saw a pretty face with violet eyes, framed by curtains of shiny sable hair. She smiled at him, then took her hand out and slipped away, sure that no one but the boy had seen her. Hotaru snuck back over near the piano and sat down looking a lot happier.
“Any requests, Hotaru-chan?” asked Kuryakin.
“I don’t really know any popular songs,” she said, as saw the boy she’d helped being taken to X-Ray. It occurred to her that she had just caused a mystery, and she’d better be careful since the boy had seen her.
“How about this one, then?” he smiled.
“Oh yes, I like that one,” she said, as he began playing Debussy’s Arabesque No. 1. As he got close to the end, she noticed the slips of paper sitting on top of the piano and asked, “Oh, what are those?”
“Requests for songs. People have been bringing them up.”
“And you do them all from memory? Wow.”
“If I know them, of course. Read a couple for me, Hotaru-chan.”
She picked up a few and tried to read them.
“Kuryakin-sensei, I can’t read these. Other than some English, I don’t know any foreign languages.”
“The first duty of a scholar, Hotaru-chan, is to learn languages. You cannot hope to understand another people until you can dream their dreams - in their language. After mid-terms, we’re going to see how fast that sharp brain of yours can pick one up. Now I want you to go ahead and try to phonetically tell me what that one says.”
She began to puzzle it out.
“Ressu Pair-a-prueez dee Chair-boorgu…”
Kuryakin’s expression visibly fell.
“Next one, Hotaru-chan,” he said very deliberately.
“Don’t you know that one?” Hotaru asked.
“Yes. I do. I know it too well. Next, please.”
Just then the woman, a lightly injured French national, who sent the request for The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, came over to make her request in person.
“Mais, Ma’amselle,” Kuryakin said, pleadingly, “c'est une chanson plutôt triste. Non bon pour une salle de triage d'hôpital, convenez-vous ?”
(But ma’am, it’s a rather sad song. Not appropriate for a hospital triage ward, don’t you agree?)
“Mais c'est mon favori. Pas vous, s’il vous plait?” asked the woman, rather silkily.
(But it’s my favorite. Won’t you, please?)
Kuryakin wanted to say he would sooner play the Horst Wessel song with third degree burns on his hands, but instead relented.
“Oui, Ma’amselle, certainment.”
(Yes, ma’am, certainly.)
“How many other languages do you know?” asked Hotaru.
“Oh, a few.”
As he played that ‘horribly maudlin tune,’ the lady who requested it sat staring wistfully at the ceiling. Kuryakin turned to Hotaru, rolled his eyes and made a quiet gagging sound. She smiled with a hand to her lips, though she thought the song was very pretty if very sad. Thirty minutes and two run-throughs of "I Will Wait For You" from "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" later, Hotaru noticed that the boy she had healed was poking his head into the room, looking for something. She quickly slid out of her chair and slipped behind the piano.
“Hotaru-chan?”
“Yes, Kuryakin-sensei?”
“Why are you crouching behind the piano?” he asked slyly, as he was finishing up “Out of My Dreams” from Oklahoma!
“Uh, I like the sound down here.”
“Uh huh.”
He looked at another request slip. This one was in French too, but there was something both odd and familiar about the writing. He looked quizzically at it for almost a minute, then smiled, pocketed it, and began playing.
“That’s a pretty song. What’s it called?” Hotaru whispered from below. She thought she had heard it somewhere before.
“When I Fall In Love. Nat King Cole sings it best, and the harmonic rhythm at certain points in his arrangement is almost sublime. Hotaru-chan, you can come up from there. That young man you’re avoiding is gone.”
She gulped. ‘Did he see that?’
“How did you know I was avoiding him?”
“Well, you were looking right at him when he poked his head in, and then you hid. I wasn’t that hard to figure out. Do you know him?”
“Erm, I just met him earlier, while you were playing.”
“What’s the matter, Hotaru-chan? Did he get fresh with you or something?”
“Uh, no,” she said, blushing.
“It’s not my place to say, but aren’t you about due for a boyfriend? What little I saw of him, he seemed kind of nice.”
Now she blushed furiously.
‘He did seem nice, and he was very cute, and rather brave, the way he kept from crying.’
A few hours later, Setsuna was still with Dr. Mizuno, and it appeared they had succeeded in establishing order and were about to take a break. Dr. Mizuno was completely impressed with Setsuna, and intended to let her know, later. Hotaru was talking to some of the younger Japanese people among the injured. Kuryakin had reached the end of his rope –the kind with a noose at the end - where having to play I Will Wait For You again and again was concerned. Since love songs made up the bulk of requests he’d received, he ended the night’s music with medley of “If I Loved You” and “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” The commissary staff was passing refreshments to the exhausted nursing staff. He saw Setsuna and Dr. Mizuno sitting down to take a break, grabbed an unattended drink cart standing off to one side, and headed straight for them.
“Doctor, how about something to drink?”
“Oh yes, thank you, Kuryakin-kun. Coffee, regular. Cream and sugar. Lots of sugar.”
“You haven’t changed either” he smiled, as he poured cream into her coffee, and handed it to her. “One hyper-powered pick-me-up for the doctor.”
“Thank you for all your help tonight.”
“Well, I suffered along with everyone else, Dr. Mizuno.”
“Oh, are you hurt?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“No, no. Do you know the song ‘I Will Wait for You’ from ‘The Umbrellas of Cherbourg’?”
“Yes, I thought I heard you playing it a couple of times tonight.”
“Not a couple. Ten. Ten times!” he said with an increasingly crazed look in his eye. “That little French lady made me play it ten times!”
“And?”
“I despise that song: hate, hate, hate it,” he growled, melodramatically. “It’s musical euthanasia: eight bars, and you want to kill yourself. Hardly appropriate for a triage area.”
Dr. Mizuno chuckled a little, and Setsuna smiled.
“Miss Meioh, would you like something?”
“No. Thank you, though,” she said, more dismissively than she meant to sound.
“Very well,” he said, and moved on.
Dr. Mizuno eyed her curiously.
“So then, Meioh-san. If I remember your phone messages, he’s tutoring that young lady over there,” she asked, motioning towards Hotaru.
“Yes.”
“You don’t look old enough for her to be your daughter.”
“I am her legal guardian,” said Setsuna.
“Frankly, you don’t quite look old enough for that, either.”
It was said as a compliment, and Setsuna took it as such, but at just such times, it was sore spot with her.
“Thank you. It is a special provisional guardianship, currently pending review in the courts.”
“I see. So, Meioh-san, what did you want to ask me?”
Here again, it was difficult to ask the question without generating suspicion about her reasons.
“I am ... curious about him.”
“How so?”
“I take it Ami-san was once a student of his?”
“You know Ami, don’t you?”
“Yes, Doctor, we’ve met a few times.”
“She was his very first official student.”
Perfect. This was exactly who she needed to talk to. Now if she could just handle it right …
“So how did you meet him, then?” asked Setsuna.
“He brought a friend to the hospital. I was on duty and took care of him. We got to talking and I asked him what he was doing here in Japan. He mentioned he taught English, and was going to open a cram school and do some private tutoring as well. I was intrigued. He is very intelligent, not to mention charming, and quite different. It was a cram school setting, so there would be other students. He seemed trust worthy, and since he was just starting out, the price he was asking was right, too. I’m always looking for anything I can do to help Ami further her studies, and I was very impressed by him; so I took a chance.”
“I see.”
“There was another reason too. He’s … a man.”
“Indeed.”
“A good one.”
“What do you mean?”
Dr. Mizuno looked thoughtful, and then plunged ahead.
“Ami’s father and I are … divorced. Even now, I would take him back, if he would be a responsible parent. But it’s been so long now, I don’t have any real hope of it. When I agreed to marry him, and when we had Ami, it was with the understanding that he would be there for our children because I was so busy. I not only resent that I have so little time for Ami, I regret that there was … that gap in her life. When Kuryakin-san described how he intended to teach his students, I realized that this was not going be just an assembly line cram school with every student wired into a computer. He meant to engage each one of them as individuals, as much as the situation allowed. I thought maybe someone like him could fill in that lack of a father, in some small way. I believe I was right. He ran the cram school for four terms. Even for Ami, there was marked improvement in how well she was doing. He also treated her with great kindness and respect, and he showed her that there are caring men in the world. Ami loves her father, and she’s too sweet to make an issue of it. Like me, she gets on as best she can, and her best is very good indeed, but she’s not blind to how irresponsible he has been. I feel that Kuryakin-san helped Ami to find the trust that allowed her open up to those close friends she found later on. I almost begged him to take her on as one of his private students, but he said that Ami was superbly intelligent and disciplined and that she would do well no matter who was teaching her. I don’t think he ever quite understood how much he’d helped her, and in what ways. Or maybe he did, and felt that he’d done all he could, or should.”
“So you know him very well now, but what made you trust him in the first place?”
“What made you trust him in the first place? Why does anyone trust anyone?”
Both questions were meant rhetorically, but as Setsuna expected, Dr. Mizuno was super sharp, and had immediately seen the strangeness of what Setsuna was asking: why had she entrusted Hotaru to someone about whom she had … reservations?
‘Was that why I had not attempted to contact her too vigorously? Strange, how circumstances are constantly pushing me to do what I say I want to do, but do not, it seems, truly wish.’
“There were other issues,” continued Dr. Mizuno. “For one thing, her current juku was not getting the best out of her. Why do you ask, Meioh-san? Do you feel he is not doing well with your charge?”
“No, he has served her quite well, as far as I can tell.”
“Then what is the problem?” asked Dr. Mizuno, rhetorically again, and with a slight smile.
“If I may ask, what happened to that friend he brought in?” Setsuna asked, just trying to change the subject.
“Oh. I remember that well. He … died.”
“What?”
“He was an old man. A widower. Poor. Alcoholic. Fought in the Pacific War.”
Setsuna looked genuinely puzzled.
“It was just someone he had capriciously befriended?” she asked, a bit incredulously.
“Actually, there’s a little story behind that. It was in the papers, so I don’t think he’d mind me telling you. When he was living in America, he rented a house one summer. One day, he was up in the attic and he found a samurai sword. Not some cheap knock off, but the real thing, made by master craftsmen using the ancient ways. The house belonged to the widow of an American WWII Veteran, who had taken the sword home as the spoils of war. The sword had the name of the original owner on it. Kuryakin was going to visit Japan, so he bought the sword from the widow, and thought it would be a fun adventure to return it to its owner, if he was still alive and if he could find him. Otherwise, he intended to sell it to a museum or a collector. He found the owner, and discovered he was close to dying. He brought him here to die with some dignity, I think. I’m pretty sure he knew that we weren’t going to be able to do anything. I was touched and fascinated by such kindness. So yes, I found him instantly trustworthy.”
Setsuna looked at him as he chatted with Frau Schmitz, presumably in Lower Saxon. She was looking very relieved, and grateful. Her daughter had come out of surgery just fine, and she had just come from seeing her.
“You admire … you … like him, do you not?” asked Setsuna.
“Like?” Dr. Mizuno got a very distant, bittersweet look. In that moment, she could not have looked more like Ami Mizuno’s mother.
“Meioh-san, everyone thinks about ‘what might have been’ if things had gone just a little bit differently, don’t they?”
No one knew that better than Setsuna Meioh. No one.
“Make no mistake, though,” she continued. “I wouldn’t give up having Ami for anything. Whatever I have gone through, whatever I have to go through, I’ll bear anything for her. I don’t know why I am so comfortable telling you all this, Meioh-san. I must be tired. But I find you impressive, and we seem to be a lot alike. You seem like a together, insightful and trustworthy person, too. Life can be hard. Love while you can, as they say, and we girls have to stick together, after all.”
Given how familiarly Kuryakin and Doctor Mizuno had acted toward each other, Setsuna wondered if she’d heard the entire story. Obviously, Dr. Mizuno had told her as much as she thought she could, and maybe more than she should have. Anything further was obviously a deeply private matter, and yet the merest suggestion of something more was, somehow, like catnip to her. She was not a gossip. If she had been, oh, the secrets she could tell. Part of the reason she was assigned her particular duty was, she felt, that she could be trusted to keep such matters to herself no matter what. Setsuna did not quite realize why, but she found it impossible to believe Kuryakin would have ever taken advantage of anyone, in any circumstances. Whatever ‘the rest of the story’ was, she was sure it would be yet another in the string of kindnesses Kuryakin ladled out with dazzling prodigality. Dr. Mizuno got up to go check on some of her new patients. Setsuna halfway rose to follow, but she told her “no, no, we can handle it from here. You go home and rest. Thank you. You’ve been fantastic tonight. You can work with me anytime.”
“Thank you,” Setsuna said warmly, though even she might not have fully appreciated how profound a compliment she’d just been given.
Setsuna watched the triage area pensively. The crisis was past. Order had been imposed upon the chaotic. The oppressive sense of urgency collapsed, leaving a reflective torpor, along with burning feet and weary bodies in its wake. Ami’s mother was every bit as impressive as Setsuna would have expected of a woman with the name Mizuno. Hotaru was chatting with a little blonde girl and looking very sleepy. Kuryakin was one of three people still tending a drink cart. One of the others, an orderly, came by and offered her something. She politely refused, just as Hotaru noticed her sitting there. She said goodbye to the little blonde girl and then took note as, curiously, after the orderly had moved out of earshot, Setsuna called to Kuryakin.
“Yes, Miss Meioh?” he said a bit tiredly, as he came over to her.
“May I have some apple juice, please?” she asked, in a voice equally tired.
“Oh, um …” he said, looking a little surprised. “Yes, ma’am.”
“With ice, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, walking back to the cart.
He filled a glass with ice, poured in some juice, and holding carefully in both hands, offered it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching for the cup. When she took it, her hand momentarily touched his. He looked at his hand for a fleeting moment, as if he’d realized this was the first time they’d ever … touched.
“You’re welcome,” he said in such a soft, gentle way, she was suddenly struck by a strange impulse to set the cup on the floor and … It was a good thing Hotaru had come and sat down next to her.
“Hotaru-chan, do you need anything?”
“Just my bed,” she said, as she stretched out and laid her head in Setsuna’s lap. Setsuna stared down into eyes that were filled with admiration. “You really were wonderful to watch tonight, Setsuna-momma.”
Setsuna smiled at her, and stroked her cheek. Kuryakin smiled too, and Hotaru thought he was going to second the praise, but that something held him back.
“So, Miss Meioh,” Kuryakin asked, “were you able to get a hold of the Koneko-chan Taxi Service, because I’d be happy to … oh, here they … are.”
His voice trailed off as saw Haruka and Michiru coming in the doorway. Hotaru caught the look of disappointment on his face; it was as unmistakable as it was fleeting.
“Hotaru-chan, I’ll see you in the morning. Obviously, you don’t need to worry about your homework tonight. We’ll do it tomorrow. Good evening, Miss Meioh.”
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