Haru stood near the reception area longer than necessary, his hands still wrapped loosely around the canned coffee Kaito had bought him earlier.

His pulse had finally started slowing. A little.

Beside him, Kaito glanced briefly at his watch. “I need to take a call,” he said quietly. “Five minutes.”

Haru nodded automatically.

“You’ll survive five minutes alone?”

“That seems optimistic.”

Kaito huffed something that might have been a laugh before stepping toward the quieter hallway near the entrance. And just like that, Haru was alone with the hospital again.

The feeling returned almost immediately.

Not panic this time. Something stranger more like...awareness.

Every sound felt too sharp. Every passing white coat caught his attention instinctively.

Haru exhaled slowly and started walking without much direction, more to keep himself moving than anything else.

He turned to the corner near the elevators where someone else waiting for the elevator to use. The collision happened fast.

A soft gasp escaped nearby. “Oh dear!”

Haru immediately jerked backward. “I’m sorry,” he said at once, voice tight with alarm.

An elderly woman stood before him, small and slightly bent with age, one hand gripping a floral-patterned cane while the other clutched the sleeve of a teenage boy beside her. The boy couldn’t have been older than fifteen or sixteen. A younger girl stood beside them holding a hospital visitor sticker against her sweater.

The grandmother blinked up at Haru in surprise.

“Oh my,” she said. “You’re tall.”

Haru barely processed the comment. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated quickly. “I wasn’t paying attention. Are you hurt?” His chest had already tightened instinctively.

Careless. Distracted. Stupid. The thoughts arrived automatically.

The teenage boy steadied his grandmother gently before looking up at Haru.

For one awful second, Haru braced himself. He expected irritation. Anger. Maybe, "Watch where you’re going."

Instead, the boy’s expression shifted into concern almost immediately. “…Are you okay?” he asked carefully.

Haru blinked.

“What?”

“You look really pale.”

The response startled him enough that he forgot to speak for a second.

Beside them, the grandmother suddenly sighed dramatically. “Well, now all three of us look exhausted,” she declared. “This hospital is very efficient at making people miserable.”

The younger girl snorted loudly. “Grandma.”

“What?” the old woman protested. “I’m old. I’m allowed to insult buildings.”

To Haru’s surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched faintly.

The grandmother noticed instantly. “Aha,” she announced proudly, pointing her cane toward him. “There. That face is much better. You looked gloomier than the patients in this building.”

Haru let out the smallest breath of laughter before he could stop himself. Haru almost looked surprised by the laugh himself. Like he hadn’t used it in days.

The teenage grandson smiled slightly at that. “We’re going to visit my grandfather,” he explained. “He keeps pretending he’s healthy enough to leave.”

“He stole pudding from another patient yesterday,” the younger girl added helpfully.

“He did not steal it,” the grandmother corrected immediately. “Your grandfather strategically relocated it.”

“That’s literally stealing.”

“It sounds classier when I say it.”

The three of them dissolved into light bickering so naturally that Haru found himself quietly watching them instead of retreating into his own thoughts.

Warmth. That was a strange thing. An ordinary warmth between people who cared about each other.

The teenage boy glanced toward Haru again after a moment. “You work here?”

Haru hesitated briefly before answering. “…Yeah.”

“A doctor?”

Another pause.

“…Surgeon.”

The boy’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s kind of amazing.”

Haru almost looked away immediately.

Amazing. 

The word felt wrong to attach to him now. As if it belonged to someone else entirely.

The grandmother tilted her head knowingly. “You don’t sound very convinced.”

Haru opened his mouth automatically to dismiss it. Nothing came out. Because somehow this random old woman had noticed the fracture in him within minutes.

The younger granddaughter tugged gently on her grandmother’s sleeve. “We should go before Grandpa complains again.”

“He complains even when we arrive early,” the boy muttered.

“True,” the grandmother admitted.

Before leaving, she looked back toward Haru once more. “You know,” she said lightly, “people who care too much always look terribly gloomy.”

Haru blinked slightly.

The old woman smiled. “But they’re usually the ones others feel safest around.”

Haru lowered his eyes before he could respond. Not like Kaito’s careful therapeutic observations.

Just casual honesty from a stranger who didn’t know his story. And somehow that made it hit differently. The teenage boy gave Haru a small nod before guiding his grandmother gently toward the elevators with his younger sister trailing beside them.

Just before the doors closed, the grandmother lifted her cane toward Haru dramatically one last time. “Try eating something warm tonight!” she ordered.

Then the elevator doors shut.

Silence returned to the hallway.

Haru stood there quietly for a long moment staring at the closed elevator doors.

Then he realized something strange.

For the past several minutes…

He hadn’t been thinking about the surgery at all.