The following Tuesday, Koutarou went to the hospital conference room as promised, and Nagasaki was waiting there for him.

– – –

Koutarou switched gears and immersed himself in his work, but he never really calmed down. He couldn’t keep his cool knowing that maybe his true identity was being exposed while he was over here doing this work.

Working under such conditions, he was just wasting his time. If it was going to be like this, it might be better to solve his issues first, and then come back to work after he’d calmed down and could concentrate.

Koutarou cut his work day short just past the middle of the afternoon. He’d been told he could borrow the room from 9 in the morning until 6 in the evening, but he’d also been told it was okay to work at his own pace, so he didn’t necessarily have to work for the entire allotted time.

Koutarou left the hospital and headed straight home on his bike. They’d bought the bike right after they’d come to this town. Well, Shuuji had bought it for him, since he couldn’t take a car like before.

He drove down the sea-side road, bathed in the scent of the tides, and finally he calmed down a bit. No one knew him in this tiny little country town, so who exactly did he think was going to recognize him? He’d been overthinking this, Koutarou told himself, sneering at himself.

He’d arrived at the apartment and was parking his bike in the parking lot, when he heard footsteps coming down the exterior staircase, and instinctively turned towards them.