The hospital was quiet past 11 p.m.
Most of the ward lights had dimmed to soft blue glows. Footsteps were hushed. Distant heart monitors beeped faintly, like a lullaby too used to tragedy to care.
Sayaka Nakamura leaned against the break room counter, waiting for the electric kettle to finish its slow rumble. She rolled her neck once. Twice. Then winced.
"Too old for doubles," she muttered.
The kettle hissed. She poured hot water into a chipped mug with an orange peel sachet inside. No caffeine. Just citrus and memories.
Her shift had thirty minutes left.
She was hoping to spend them alone.
Which is why she sighed—softly, resignedly—when the door creaked open and Satoru Kojima walked in, rubbing at the bandaged crook of his neck.
"You again," she said.
He gave a sheepish little bow. "Sorry. Vending machine ate my coins."
She raised an eyebrow. "So your solution was to break into the nurses' tea stash?"
"No. Just figured if I begged hard enough, you'd share."
Sayaka snorted. "You must really want to get yelled at tonight."
He didn't answer right away—just dropped into the plastic chair across from hers like he'd been carrying a city on his back.
Sayaka noticed the new scuff on his jacket. The worn straps on his bag. The tremble in his fingers when he took the mug she slid toward him.
"You look like hell," she muttered.
"Thanks. That's one of the nicer things people have said to me today."
She sipped her tea, then looked at him more closely.
"You ever think about quitting?"
"All the time," he replied without hesitation.
Sayaka blinked.
"But if I stop," he said, "then someone else takes the hit."
Silence settled between them like old smoke.
After a while, she asked, "So you never get scared?"
Satoru smiled, not bitter—just tired. "I do. Every time."
"Then why do you keep going?"
He stared into his tea like it held some answer.
"Because someone has to. And sometimes... I'm the only one there."
Sayaka leaned back in her chair, letting his words sit for a while.
"You ever let yourself cry?"
He shrugged. "I'd rather not start. I'm scared I won't stop."
Another silence. Softer this time. The kind where you didn't need to fill it with anything.
Sayaka reached into her coat and pulled out a protein bar—crushed and a little melted. She placed it beside his tea.
"For the idiot who keeps showing up."
He looked at it. Then at her.
"You're not trying to fix me, are you?"
"No," she said. "You're too far gone."
Satoru laughed under his breath, something cracked and real. He took a bite.
The night went on, slow and quiet.
And for once… he didn't feel invisible.