In Miho's Hospital Room, 9:25 A.M....
Someone knocks in the door...
Who might that be? Could you please check that out for me, Nurse Maki? Miho said calmly, turning on the television using the remote control.
"What could that surprise be that Mizuki is talking about? Why is she telling me to open the tv at exactly 9:30 A.M, 3:30 P.M, and 10:30 P.M?" Miho taught to herself.
The door inched open, a thin sliver of hallway light cutting across the linoleum floor.
Nurse Maki's face popped through first, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Ms. Miho — it's Sir Shinya!" Her voice bubbled, and she bounced on her toes just a little before stepping aside.
Miho's shoulders lifted in a sudden, bright jolt. "Shinya? Come in!" She leaned forward in bed, her hands gripping the sheets, voice rising with energy she hadn't shown minutes before.
He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. A slow, warm smile spread across his face as he lowered himself onto the chair beside her — movements steady, unhurried. "It's been a while," he said, his tone smooth as silk. "How are you doing?"
Miho waved a hand, but her eyes never left his, shining with anticipation. "I'm alright — you don't need to worry!" She leaned in a little closer. "Anyways… what brings you here?"
Shinya's fingers moved deftly over the apple, the peeler gliding in smooth, steady arcs — a rhythm that settled the air in the room. "Hiyori said we should watch something here together," he said, his voice low and even. "Said it's 'something to be proud of.' Her words, not mine." He paused, holding up the bare, gleaming fruit. "I still can't quite parse it… but we'll see, won't we?" He extended it toward her. "Want some?"
Miho's fingers wrapped around the cool apple, and she pressed it to her cheek for a moment before bringing it to her lips. "Thank you," she murmured — the words soft, but weighted with more than just gratitude. She took a small bite, then her gaze drifted to the window, where clouds drifted slow and heavy across the sky. "Mizuki said the same thing last night, when she came by." Her jaw tightened slightly, and she traced a brown spot on the apple's skin. The worry in her voice didn't need to be said — it lived in the way she avoided his eyes, in the hesitation that hung between each word. "My daughter… I can't help but wonder what's really going on."
Shinya set the empty peeler on the bedside table, then reached out — not to touch her, but to rest his hand lightly on the edge of the bed, a quiet bridge between them. "I'll stand by Hiyori in whatever she chooses," he said, his gaze holding hers steady. "As long as it doesn't cast a shadow on the path she's meant to walk." He leaned back, a small, sure smile touching his lips. "And Mizuki's with her. You know how she is — solid as stone, even when the ground shifts underfoot. Trust her the way I do now." His eyes softened. "Your daughter makes my Hiyori stronger. Together… they'll find their way through anything."
A beat passed, and his smile faded just a little — replaced by a spark that danced in the corner of his eyes. He tilted his head, glancing at the TV screen where the clock ticked closer to 9:30. "Still… I keep turning it over in my head." The words came slower now, laced with a quiet wonder that pulled at the air. "What kind of surprise needs two people to bring it here? What kind of thing feels big enough to be proud of, yet small enough to fit in a TV screen?"
Miho took another crisp bite of the apple, her eyes narrowing as they flickered between the TV and Shinya. "Right," she said, her voice light but her brow furrowing — a small crease that held all the question marks swirling in her head. "That is kind of suspicious."
Shinya's gaze drifted to the digital clock on the wall: 9:29.One minute left already? The thought hummed quiet and sharp in his chest as he turned back to her, his posture settling into a stillness that felt deliberate. "Whatever it is," he said, each word measured, "we'll just wait and see." A beat, then: "Did Toshinori even bother to visit you?" The question landed flat, like a stone dropped in still water — no heat in his voice, but a chill that pricked at the air.
Miho's jaw set, and she stared at the apple core in her hand, turning it over and over. "What can you expect from that bastard?" she said, her tone as steady as ever — but the way her knuckles whitened around the core betrayed the fire beneath. "Of course he didn't."
Shinya's hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave half-moons. He leaned forward slightly, his voice barely a whisper now — but every syllable crackled with a rage he was fighting to hold in. "Abandoned you and Mizuki… and still can't show his face here?" The memory landed like a punch. "Passed his entire debt on a twelve-year-old girl — now she's twenty, and she's still carrying it." He shook his head, his eyes dark with a disappointment that cut deeper than anger. "I never thought he'd become this kind of ghost in your lives."
A soft sigh slipped past Miho's lips as she leaned back against the pillows. "That's all in the past, Shinya," she said — her voice as steady as a calm sea, even as the sigh hinted at the tide of memories beneath. She reached out, her hand landing gently on his back, a light, grounding touch. "We've already wiped him from our lives. It doesn't matter if he ever finds his way back."
Shinya's eyes drifted to the floor, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. Toshinori Nishina. The name felt like glass in his mouth — Mizuki's father, Miho's ex-husband, the man who'd vanished without a glance. His fist tightened again, then loosened. I'll never forgive him for what he did to my friend, my goddaughter. A flicker of something else crossed his face — a quiet ache, gone as fast as it came. If only I'd taken the risk back then… Miho and I… He glanced at the photo in his wallet peeking out of his pocket — his wife, his daughter. No. That ship sailed long ago.
Miho's gaze fixed on the TV screen, her fingers tracing the edge of the remote once more. At least with Toshinori, we had a little time — a good life, before it all fell apart. The thought was a quiet defense against the darker one that followed, sharp as a thorn. Not like the other one. The bastard who shattered Mizuki's childhood before it even began, who almost broke her view of the world entirely. She pressed her lips together, her eyes going distant. Shinya doesn't need to know about him. Some secrets are better kept buried.
The clock on the wall beeped softly as the numbers flipped to 9:30. Shinya straightened up, a spark igniting in his eyes that chased away the shadows. He leaned forward, a grin tugging at his lips for the first time since he'd arrived. "Well," he said, his voice lifting with a warmth that filled the room, "guess we're about to find out what this surprise is."
—CHAPTER 7 END, TO BE CONTINUED ON CHAPTER 8—