"I . . . what?"

Why would I have your shirt? She wanted to ask, and looked at Fenix strangely for a moment. Mayako furrowed her brow a bit, trying to make sense of that statement. In the end, though, she had just assumed that he had some sort of dream or something--an event in his mind that he could have sworn was real, and confused it with the real world. Though, that didn't necessarily explain why Mayako would have had his shirt. For some reason, she didn't necessarily want to think on that for any length of time . . .

"Mhmm. Y-your knife and money are still i-in the patients' belongings room," replied Mayako, "I-I . . . didn't think you'd n-need them anytime soon, so I left them there. P-probably safer that way."

Who knew how bad a situation could become if a recently awakened coma patient were to start swinging around a combat knife? No one wanted to see that amount of self inflicted injury. No one.

"Well...I don't need them right now, but I'll need to buy more clothes soon," he said. "Especially if my shirt's missing." The gown was fine as long as he was just laying down in bed, but when he became able to walk around he wanted actual clothing. The knife wasn't a concern of his--he was glad to still have it, as it meant he didn't have buy a new one, but he had better ways to defend himself, though he doubted he'd need to.

Remembering the conclusion he'd come to last night suddenly, he said, "Sorry if I've been rude--I...well, I'm not trying to be." A bit of frustration worked into his voice. Even after all these years on the road, the art of conversation still eluded him. Sure, he could talk business--that was easy. He had no problem getting right to the point. But there was something about the way he spoke that he knew was a bit awkward; he just couldn't figure out to fix it.

"Hm? Rude?" Mayako asked, again misunderstanding.

Why would he think that? She had to debate that in her mind for a moment, trying to remember some instance where he may have been rude, or something of the like. In the end, she didn't find any instances just yet. He was confusing and possibly a little bit delusional, but he wasn't rude.

Then she remembered: last night, she had told him that he didn't have to be so mean. It seemed as if she wasn't the only one misunderstanding, here.

"I-I don't think y-you've been rude," Mayako quickly shook her head. "I-I w-was, u-um, l-last night--I was just joking . . ."

Mayako really didn't joke around too much. Of course, she was relatively cheerful and the like, but she didn't often tell jokes or pick on someone else for collective humor's sake. She laughed when other people did, but she just usually failed at it, and so she almost always refrained. This was a good example of such. Fenix wasn't really mean--a bit grumpy, maybe because of the fact that he'd just woken up recently from a five month long coma, but he wasn't mean in the slightest. At least, not from what Mayako had seen.

"Oh." His face tinted with the barest hint of red as he looked down into his lap. Apparently, he'd misread the situation--he was used to being thought of as rude (or at least blunt), so it was the first conclusion he'd jumped to.

"Then...nevermind," he said.

He didn't have anything to do, though, as the doctor had advised him against doing the exercises too often lest he strain himself and prolong his recovery. And, needless to say, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

So he wracked his brain for something to talk about, and finally came up with something that seemed odd to him. "You were here all night, and you're still here. That's pretty long hours for a volunteer," he pointed out, not realizing he was treading the same ground that had prompted her to call him mean the previous night.

She may have been a little embarrassed and ashamed when Fenix misinterpreted her joke from the previous night, but when he mentioned her staying there all the time, she was . . . down. Her eyes were downcast and she bit her lower lip. Finding the words was difficult; no matter how much time had passed, it was always hard. Being busy in the clinic actually made life bearable. The Tsukimonos probably understood that, even if she never came out and said it.

"O-oh, well, um, i-it's normal," Mayako shook her head.

Touchy subject. She didn't want to go into it, but she also didn't want to say anything rude or leave him completely in the dark. Explaining wasn't going to happen, not right now--not yet. Maybe later. For now, a vague, but somewhat inciteful reply would have to do . . .

"I mean, I-I don't have anyplace else to go," Mayako said quietly, "Besides . . . I-I . . . I have someone to be here for."

"Ah."

So she stays here, then? He didn't ask that aloud, though. Even he could tell she didn't want to talk about it, but he couldn't refrain from asking something else.

"Someone to be here for?" he questioned instead. It was unlikely to be anyone he knew, but something about the way she said it made him ask anyway.

"A friend . . ."

Fenix was . . . familiar, though. In some cases, she didn't feel too terrible about telling him certain things, even though he was a stranger. No, it was because he was a stranger: he had no bias. Or, perhaps he could just listen, even. She didn't feel the need to vent for very long, but she didn't talk about it much, and it was hard not to go into it when the subject was up. It wasn't like Fenix was going to spread word or anything; he couldn't even walk on his own. It wasn't good practice for a nurse to vent, even if it was briefly, to a patient, but she was inexperienced. She wasn't a professional, and didn't think she ever would be. This volunteer job was more therapy for her than it was for the patients.

"We grew up together. Sh-she's just like me, now," Mayako sighed. She looked downcast. She didn't want to talk about her own problems, or even elaborate on them in the slightest, but this . . . wasn't necessarily her problem. It was something she was trying to help with, but she could only do so much. "H-her home is empty, no more siblings--dead or just . . . gone. L-like--like . . . just got up one day a-and walked off, y-you know? Just a sad, empty, lonely place th-that'll just get repossessed someday. W-well, um, she's alone. And she's hurt. S-so . . . I usually stay in her room. Try to keep her company--try to keep her from becoming too bitter, o-or . . . . . . . . . . . keep her . . . from doing anything . . . she m-might regret."

She needed need to elaborate on the last part. She had said more than enough. There was nothing harder than having to be the suicide watch for a good friend that one grew up with . . .

"I just . . . I c-couldn't go back to my lonely home, even if I wanted to. I just have to be here for her--y-you know?"

"I see," Fenix replied, staring at his lap. A childhood friend, she said. He wondered what it was like to have one. The only two people he'd spent any length of time with had been caretakers and role models more than friends, and both had remained fairly consistent.

Part of what she said also surfaced memories of his own: her mention of not wanting to return to an empty home. He recalled the nights he used to sneak out of the church, to see the world he was denied. In those days they'd been the high points of his life, but they were always marred by inevitable knowledge that he'd have to return and be confined once more. At least he'd had someone to look after him, so he wasn't entirely alone, but not being allowed near other children was still a terrible fate for a child.

He snapped himself out of his drifting thoughts; he didn't like to dwell on those lonely days. Now, that same church was filled with the faces of children, and while it was far from the best situation possible they got by well enough.

"You should be with her, not me," he observed, looking up at her again. While he wasn't exactly self-sufficient yet, he wasn't in need of constant attention either. He figured he could get by with someone checking in every once in awhile.

"I know--I-I . . . I should be there," Mayako nodded reluctantly.

Unfortunately, it was even harder to be strong for a friend when one couldn't even be strong for oneself. She had no superficial strength left. Mayako felt terrible for it, but she needed a break sometimes; she needed someone else to be with her friend. She was hurting inside, too, and although she wanted to help her friend, being with her made her hurt even worse.

"I . . . just needed a break, y-you know?" Mayako sighed. "She's . . . E-Emma is--r-really beautiful, a-and she's really smart, a-and . . . I-I don't know. It just gets to me wh-when she can't see that anymore. A-anyways, um, I-I really shouldn't have spilled all that, I'm sorry . . ."

That was the least professional thing she'd done. Mayako was terrible at being professional, anyways. It wasn't even so much an apology for a lack of professionalism, more than it was an apology for venting to him, even though she knew so little about him--and he knew so little about her.

Before standing and taking her leave, Mayako asked an obligatory rhetorical question: "I-I'll check back with you later, o-okay?"

Fenix shook his head at her apology to indicate it wasn't necessary. If anything, he should have apologized for asking, but while the topic depressed her a bit it didn't seem to bother her that he asked, so he refrained.

"Okay," he confirmed. With that, he let himself fall back down onto the pillow, closing his eyes. He hated to admit it, but even going through those exercises once had worn him out. If it was him, he'd already be walking around, I bet.

Unable to sleep just yet though, he merely let his mind drift, resting and regaining his strength so he could try those exercises again as soon as possible.

Two days had passed.

Bathing. It was an inevitability, something Mayako couldn't avoid--and since Fenix didn't seem to have a problem with her being there to help, when he was said to be wearing swimming trunks, then Mayako wound up losing all reason to opt out. If Fenix had a problem with it, then she'd have been off the hook! Unfortunately, that just didn't happen. It wasn't so much that she was helping someone (she barely knew) bathe, but that she was essentially had to bathe with him! The Tsukimonos had a large bath tub. Without being inside of it, it was impossible to really do any good helping a person bathe.

That said, she was rather nervous when it came time for her to knock on Fenix's door and tell him it was time for said bath. He needed it, and she knew that, but that was seriously going to be hellish on her psyche. Not some sort of trauma, but extreme embarrassment.

Fenix had already been served breakfast, and she had overseen some of his physical therapy, so she knew he was awake. Still wearing her makeshift nurse's outfit (though, a bathing suit was beneath), Mayako stood in front of the door for a few moments after knocking--just long enough to take a deep breath.

"U-um, F-Fenix?" Mayako called out as she opened the door, "Umm, I-I . . . I'm supposed to t-take you to the bath th-this afternoon . . ."

To say things were going slowly was an understatement. Fenix had underestimated just how weak five months without moving could weaken a person. He'd hoped to at least be walking by now, but he still couldn't get out of bed without assistance. Though generally a patient person, he wasn't sure how much longer he could take sitting in a bed all day.

Mayako's interruptions were usually welcome, as they broke up the monotony of the day. At this one, though, he looked a bit uncomfortable. He still hadn't been able to change into actual clothing.

"Alright," he replied anyway. He did need a bath, after all. When was the last time he bathed? Five days ago? Six days ago?

Five months and six days ago, he reminded himself. That put any doubts he had about it being necessary out of his mind.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, being careful about the way he did it. They'd discovered the first time he needed to use the restroom that hospital gowns were not made with someone of his height in mind, and thus it tended to...hike up a bit.

And in the first instance of that, Mayako had been so embarrassed that she had to leave the room. She'd only seen one man naked before, and though there was a point that she sort of got used to it, rather enjoyed it, and felt no shame--it had been months since then. All the discomfort, shame, and question of values were right back at her psyche again. She was uncomfortable just being around someone (of her own age) scantily dressed, as it was.

"U-um, here . . . I'll help you," said the volunteer nurse as she approached the bed.

It was quite pathetic, really. Not that Fenix couldn't walk on his own, or that he needed help from a girl nearly a foot (possibly even more than a foot?) shorter than him, but the very fact that she thought she could help. Mayako would have Fenix's arm around her shoulders, while she hugged onto his waist and chest, all the while trying her best to keep him standing.

She should he probably gotten Urikuse's help--but that couldn't be fixed, now. What was done was done, and now that she had him standing, she was just going to get the job done! And maybe get help taking him back.

"Nhh--" Mayako strained, "I-I'm j-just . . . I-I'm g-going t-to--to take you t-to the bath, a-and give you t-trunks, a-and sit you d-down--s-so you can change wh-while I change--nhhh--o-okay?"

"Ah, okay." If he was going to wear trunks, that made him feel a bit better. In his efforts to support his own weight as much as he could (which wasn't much yet, but enough that Mayako could at least get the job done), he overlooked what she said about needing to change herself.

While the clinic itself had a bath for patients, it and the room it was in was too cramped for someone to help out. It was strictly for those patients who were capable of getting in and washing themselves unassisted.

Besides, the family bath was just plain more comfortable. The only reason it wasn't used regularly for patients was that the Tsukimonos weren't so trusting as to leave most patients in the house part unattended.

Fenix was unaware of any of this, or even of the general layout of the building. His ventures thus far had consisted of only going from his room to the bathroom. Thus, he was taken aback when they stepped beyond the threshold of the clinic and into the Tsukimonos living area.

"This hospital has a living room?" Fenix asked, not understand at all.

"Hnn--huh?" Mayako strained to sound confused, but still managed. "O-oh. Oh! Nhh--th-this is the house. Um . . ."

That was right--he hadn't been through the house yet. He didn't know that the Tsukimonos had their house connected right to the clinic--the same building, in fact. It might have been there all along, or might have been an add on; it had been that way since Mayako could remember, though. Patients weren't usually allowed in the house, but Fenix was an exception--if only because he couldn't walk on his own at the moment, and because he was supposedly a friend of Remmy's.

"Th-this is the Tsukimonos' house. Nhhh. I-it's c-connected t-to the clinic . . . s-so . . . th-they can t-take care of patients easier a-and better."

Indeed, the family tub was much more spacious. This allowed Mayako to actually help him, but also ensured that she had to get in, as well. She needed a bath, anyways. They finally reached it, and she strained to open the door and help him in--but she managed, and did her best to help him to a bench attached to the wall. The water was already warmed up, and swimming trunks were folded up on the bench beside of some towels.

"H-here you go," Mayako breathed a sigh of relief.