"Nomura-san, you know I can't--"

"It's not a matter of can't, rookie," Shin interrupts, waving a flippant hand at the nurse who's been trying to escort him to the bathroom for the past two minutes. 

Why she won't take a hint and leave him be, he doesn't know - but he can certainly guess. Something tells him his almost-friend - the ever-so talented surgeon Shunsuke-kun - advised his staff that they may have an obstinate patient on their hands, meaning they've steeled themselves against his bad attitude. He hopes that isn't the case, because it also means that he won't be able to charm his way into an early discharge if they know of the true nature that lurks beneath his pleasant smile.

"You can do this, you're choosing not to."

"I think I'm choosing not to commit a felony, Nomura-san."

"It's not a felony. You're requisitioning some files for your former superior. I hardly call that illegal."

"To obtain those files, I'd have to break into the data room and either locate the physical copy of the files or download them onto a flashdrive to give to you."

"See? It's nothing that difficult."

"Nomura-san..."

"Rookie. I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Takashi will report me to the higher-ups without a second thought; you're the only one who won't leap at the opportunity to at least have me transferred."

"..."

Shin makes eye contact with the nurse while he waits for Amon to respond. She looks rather unimpressed, all things considering, and he isn't sure if that's directed towards him as a whole, or specifically towards his current conversation. Either way, he doubts he has anything to worry about in terms of her spilling anything she's heard to Shunsuke, or anyone else for that matter. Perhaps she's under the impression he's delusional from the wonderfully strong pain medication he may or may not have forgotten to take earlier today.

"I'll see what I can do, Nomura-san. But I make no promises."

"Good boy. Promises are too flimsy for my tastes, anyway."

Shin goes to hang up, but Amon's raised voice catches his attention, and he brings the phone to his ear again, curious.

"Ah, Nomura-san... has anyone visited you recently?"

He means has Kitamura-san visited recently. Amon's easy enough to read at this stage in their relationship, even over the phone, and Shin sincerely hopes he learns to better cloak his emotions, or he'll face trouble in the future in this line of work. 

"Kitamura came by again yesterday."

Shin's careful to speak as neutrally as possible. He has an inkling that Amon's concern about this matter goes beyond what it would if he only cared that someone, anyone was paying Shin a visit. His interest in Rui hasn't gone unnoticed by Shin, but the man still can't quite tell if it's wholly platonic or not. 

Still, he can't help the biting edge that tacks onto the end of his sentence.

"If she's bothering you, you--"

"It's not a bother," Shin says, rolling his eyes, though he scowls slightly at the smirk the nurse gives him. "Don't worry about it. Focus on getting along with whoever they've assigned you to. Some of the old farts around there aren't as sympathetic to brats as I am."

With that, Shin swipes his thumb over the end call button, letting the phone slip from his fingers and onto the bedspread. He's suddenly exhausted, which could be attributed to the fact that he feels like he was run over by several eighteen-wheelers just yesterday, but he's also willing to bet that one of the nurses managed to hide a sleeping pill in his lunch.

The moment he closes his eyes, though, the nurse still lingering by his bedside coughs pointedly, and he fully externalizes his scowl, uncaring now if he's only proving Shunsuke right by being difficult. Shin's never liked being taken care of by others. He doesn't blame it on his shitty childhood, nor on the rough upbringing he had in the Academy. He likes to think it's simply another facet of his personality, unchanging despite the various stimuli he's been exposed to over the years, steadfast and reliable in its existence. 

"Must I?" he asks, making excellent use of his famous silver tongue.

The woman's lips turn up again, and though Shin would never admit it, it's then that a slight shiver dances down his spine, and he has to press himself back against the bed to hide the arching of his back.

"There is a bedpan," the nurse suggests, nudging a toe against the metal pan tucked up beneath his bed. "Or I can have one of our younger nurses come to carry you to the bathroom..."

Shunsuke definitely said something to them. 

How else would they know all the right buttons to jam their fingers into?

With much grumbling beneath his breath and suppressed winces, Shin inches his legs off the bed, hissing when his bare feet come into contact with the frigid floor. The nurse eases his arm over her shoulders, and - largely ignoring Shin's hostile eyes, helps escort him to the nearest bathroom.

If nothing else, Shin is grateful that Rui claimed she wouldn't be able to meet with him today...

____________________________________

Rui thinks that, just maybe, it might really be possible to die from the effects of anticipation alone.

Her heart thuds against her rib cage, as blunt and agonizing as the impacts of bullets. She clutches at her chest with one hand, stock-still as she stands just outside the doors of her once beloved workplace. How long has it been since she set foot in this office? She can't recall, and that kills her a little; however, it's nothing compared to the guilt from the fact that not once has she contacted anyone from the newspaper to talk about Akane's death.

Oh, God...

Another pang in her heart; her breathing's quickening, sharp and erratic; she's seeing black on the outskirts of her vision.

Akane.

Somehow, she kept it together in front of Shin and his sister in the hospital, but she supposes that was because she had no other choice. The only person who's seen her break down is Hinata, and she wasn't about to add Shin to the list if she could help it. 

 Now, alone and trapped in the company of her own mind, nothing there to shield her from the heart-aching reality that Akane is gone. Ripped apart at the hands of an insatiable ghoul. If Rui closes her eyes a second too long, she can see it, the grisly, gruesome scene - blood splattered liberally across the ground, the walls, flickering shadows cast by faulty streetlights, serrated flesh, forgotten limbs--

"Rui?"

Rui's eyes fly open (she's too surprised to try and remember when she first closed them), her heart stuttering, mouth open in the beginnings of a gasp - but it's not Akane. It can't be Akane.

Harada's gold eyes narrow to cautious slits, but he doesn't say anything as he moves forward to circle a hand around her wrist and tug her off the sidewalk and into the office. Rui blinks in the sudden darkness; even the overcast day outside provided better lighting than this. She makes a quick sweep of the room but it's utterly devoid of life apart from her and Harada.

"Um, where..."

"We're off today, Rui. You would know that if you happened to show up for work once in a while."

Shame heats her cheeks, but it's not as though what he's saying is anything new. The same thought has been rattling around in her head for the past few weeks, that she should have been here, that even popping in every few days would have been better than the disappearing act she pulled following Kaori's death. She took the coward's way out, she knows that. It's painfully obvious to her that it wasn't grief or a lack of passion that kept her from returning here.

It was fear.

Fear of falling back into the same old routine she'd paced out for herself before Kaori was gone, fear of accepting normalcy, fear of forgetting...

Without Kaori, her work is colored with streaks of gray, but for Rui, the thought that one day, those colors would return to her of their own accord... that was more terrifying than them vanishing in the first place.

Since she's lost Kaori, Rui has been standing on a precipice, the rocks beneath her crumbling steadily as the days pass around her. Her foundation cracked, she's been careful not to take a step too far forward, lest she fall into an abyss so hopelessly deep she would have no hope of crawling her way out it, no matter the strength of her determination. Hinata's revelation shook her, upset her balance, but she managed to totter back, throw out her arms and catch herself.

Some day, she might find her way back to solid ground. But it's that possibility that frightens her - that one day, she'll be able to live her life as she did before, because Rui hardly remembers who she was in the days before Kaori sauntered into her life.

Who she is without Ikehara Kaori by her side... she's not she wants to remember that.

"I imagine there's a reason you're here," Harada says, flicking on the main light and illuminating the ashen expression on Rui's face. His own is unsympathetic, and Rui knows she's already lost her chance to make her way back into his good graces. Too many days without a call, too many opportunities for her to redeem herself squandered. Harada isn't a forgiving man by nature, and Rui's ruined her credibility in his eyes. 

 "I... "

She words stick against the roof of her mouth, and she swallows thickly in an attempt to dislodge them.

"I need... Um, I was wondering if you could... the records of the..."

Harada lifts a brow, golden eyes practically glowing in the half-light, mouth set in a flat, unyielding line.

Rui dredges up the shoddy remains of her courage, squeezing her fingers around the hem of her jacket, and stammers, "T-The Closed Ward... we... we have records of that, don't we? Reports, articles... things like that... C-Could I... could I see them, maybe...?"