"Hungry? Want to get up and eat breakfast first?"
Shizuka glanced over from her chair. Akira had been lying in the exact same position for a solid five minutes now, staring blankly at the ceiling. She was starting to wonder if the doctor had missed some hidden after-effect.
He gave his arm another futile tug, but Shouko's grip didn't loosen. "It's fine. I'm not hungry yet."
"You haven't eaten all night, and you're still not hungry?" Her eyes flicked to the trash can — only a couple of tissues and two empty paper cups inside.
"Mhm." If he couldn't break free, he might as well… enjoy it.
"Alright," Shizuka said at last, getting up. "I'll go find the doctor, see when you can be discharged." She slid her phone into her pocket and headed for the door.
"That fast? I only came in last night…" he murmured, watching her leave. But the idea of an early discharge wasn't bad — he didn't feel seriously hurt anyway. Once home, he could just tell Mom he needed a few extra days to 'recover.'
With that decided, he settled back down, holding the still-sleeping Shouko, and drifted off again.
After a while, Shouko cracked her eyes open, checked that he was asleep, and promptly closed them again. If she missed this chance, who knew when they'd get to sleep together like this next.
"Shouko, time to get up for breakfast. The sun's already shining on your butt."
Shizuka's voice came from somewhere nearby, along with a gentle shake of Shouko's shoulder. When that got no reaction, Shizuka switched targets — and smacked Akira squarely on the rear.
Slap.
"Get up and eat. If you wait much longer, it'll be lunchtime."
"Mom, why the double standard?" Akira groaned, opening his eyes.
Shouko stopped pretending to be asleep and rubbed her eyes lightly. "Good morning, Auntie…"
"Both of you — up. Eat. Akira, you've got one more checkup, and if everything's fine, you can be discharged," Shizuka said, opening the two bento boxes she'd brought back.
"Okay." Akira swung his legs over the bed, only for Shouko to dart past him into the bathroom with her small bundle of clothes. He didn't need to guess why.
"Akira."
He froze mid-step. "…What?"
Shizuka's tone was far too serious for his liking.
"You're only in your first year of junior high. Some things are too early. Don't go too far. You get what I'm saying?"
"I… don't understand," he said quickly, shaking his head.
"Good. I don't want to be a grandmother so early," she said bluntly.
Akira rolled his eyes. They weren't even biologically capable yet — wasn't she overthinking this?
The bathroom door clicked open, and Shouko emerged. "Akira, I'm done, you can go now."
"Mhm."
While he was in the bathroom, Shizuka picked up the two hearing aids from the bedside table and handed them to Shouko.
"Thank you, Auntie," Shouko said with a smile.
"Shouko…"
She paused, halfway to grabbing a sandwich from her bento. "Hm? Auntie, do you want some breakfast?" She even pushed the box toward her.
Shizuka's words stuck in her throat. Shouko was too polite, too quick to blush at a simple tease — she couldn't picture her doing that.
"It's nothing. You eat," Shizuka said, sliding the box back.
When Akira returned, the two of them ate together before Shizuka took them for the hospital's round of final checks. By the time they got back to the ward, it was already past two.
The doctor gave the all-clear, so they packed what little they had and finished discharge paperwork in minutes.
"Mom, I want to rest at home for a few more days," Akira said the moment they stepped into the living room.
Before Shizuka could answer, Shouko cut in: "I don't agree. If you take too many days off, you'll fall behind."
Her own mom wouldn't approve leave for her, so unless Akira was bedridden and she could 'take care of him,' the idea was out of the question.
Shizuka shook her head too. "The doctor said you're fine. Just no strenuous activity for now."
"Oh, and stop your morning runs for a week," she added.
"Alright…" Akira sighed. He'd expected Shouko to back him up — not shoot him down first.
After that, Shouko and Shizuka watched a drama together on the sofa while Akira went upstairs to dig out his phone.
As soon as he opened it, a local news headline popped up:
"Fisherman discovers body at Futaba Port. Police confirm identity; surname 'Takeuchi.'"
No first name.
He skimmed it without much thought. Futaba Port was dozens of kilometers away, and incidents like this were so common he'd read a dozen similar reports. The only thing that caught his eye was that the surname matched his old sixth-grade homeroom teacher's.
—
The next day, the moment Akira and Shouko stepped into class, a cluster of girls surrounded her.
"Shouko, why were you absent yesterday?"
"Were you sick?"
"Did you catch a cold?"
"Why did Miyamura take the day off too?"
Shouko fielded their questions one by one, carefully leaving Akira out of it — exactly as they'd agreed last night.
Meanwhile, Akira trudged to his seat, only to get a poke in the back from Nishikata.
"Hm?" he mumbled, turning.
"Nothing. Just wondering why you were absent."
"Minor cold. I'm fine now," Akira said with a shake of his head.
"Alright." Nishikata backed off, letting him drop his head onto his desk and drift toward sleep.
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