The hospital room smelled faintly of antiseptic and flowers—fresh ones, this time. Soft white lilies in a slim glass vase, sitting beside a get-well card drawn in colored pencil. The sunlight filtered in through pale curtains, and Nurse Sayaka Nakamura stood at the foot of the bed, arms folded, clipboard tucked under one elbow.
"I told you," Sayaka said dryly, "you don't have to bring flowers every time you visit her."
Miyako flinched slightly but smiled. "I wanted to."
Sayaka raised an eyebrow. "She's unconscious."
"I know," Miyako whispered. "But… it's still nice, right?"
Sayaka didn't reply right away. Her expression softened, almost imperceptibly. She made a small note on her clipboard and stepped aside.
"You're lucky," she said. "She's stable today. Clear lungs, better breathing. But it's not permanent."
Miyako nodded solemnly, stepping closer to the bedside. Satoru's mother lay quietly under the blankets, oxygen tube in place, her chest rising and falling slowly. Her skin was pale, her lips chapped. She looked impossibly tired.
"I've only met her once," Miyako murmured, adjusting the crane-shaped hairclip behind her ear. "She gave me an extra flower and told me to be brave."
Sayaka blinked.
"She said that to you?"
Miyako nodded.
Sayaka looked at the sleeping woman again. "Yeah. That sounds like her."
There was a long pause between them. Outside, the intercom chimed faintly. Footsteps passed in the hall. The lilies swayed slightly in the air conditioning.
Then the door opened.
Keiko stepped in, her police uniform slightly wrinkled, her hat in her hand. She paused when she saw Miyako, surprise flickering across her face.
"Oh," she said. "You're… Satoru's kouhai?"
Miyako nodded. She tried to bow quickly, but nearly dropped the vase. "Sorry! I-I just wanted to visit."
Keiko's expression softened. "No, it's okay. Thanks for coming."
They both sat in the two chairs near the bed, an awkward silence forming between them. Sayaka scribbled a few things in the chart, then stepped out, leaving the two girls alone.
Keiko stared at the IV drip. "He used to bring her ginger tea. Every morning. Swore it made her immortal."
Miyako smiled a little. "I didn't know that."
Keiko's voice wavered. "He thinks if he just works hard enough, he can fix everything."
Miyako was quiet for a long time.
Then she said, softly, "He's not trying to fix the world. Just the people in it."
Keiko looked at her.
And for the first time, she saw the same quiet conviction Satoru carried… in someone else.