He didn't wait for a taxi. Instead, he ran, cutting through the streets of Kyoto as though hungry wolves were chasing him!
His steps were so fast that his feet barely touched the ground, and the adrenaline coursing through his body burned through his veins, propelling him forward without a trace of fatigue.
Passersby on the street stared at him in shock, some thinking he was mad, while others feared he would crash into them.
He almost got hit by a car while crossing the street at breakneck speed!
He quickly raised his hand to apologize to the driver, who couldn't even respond, as Nagisa continued running without turning back.
The driver sighed in frustration, but kept going, while Nagisa kept running, never stopping... until the tall silhouette of Kyoto Katsura Hospital rose ahead of him, towering in the sky as if standing between him and fate waiting for him there.
Nagisa sprinted toward the automatic glass doors, which opened for him as he dashed into the hospital without slowing down.
The place was relatively calm, as it was a Tuesday morning, and there wasn't much of a crowd, with most people busy with work or school.
Breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his forehead, he rushed to the reception desk.
The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and he felt the weight of exhaustion in his knees and joints. But there was no time to rest, no room for waiting...
He slammed his palms on the desk, his voice trembling and frantic,
"Where... where... Where is my wife?!"
The young receptionist looked up at him in surprise.
She was wearing her official medical uniform, her black hair neatly tied in a sophisticated bun.
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She gazed at him with eyes that carried a mixture of confusion and professionalism, then replied in a calm, respectful tone, but with a firm undertone.
"Sir, please lower your voice for the comfort of the patients, and I need your wife's name in order to assist you."
Nagisa noticed that her voice was different from the feminine tone he had heard on the phone…but this wasn't the time to think about such details.
He felt embarrassed by his actions, and by asking such a silly question without giving her his wife's name... how could she possibly know?
He took a deep breath and nodded his head in apology.
"Yes, I'm sorry for shouting...her name is Nyoko."
The receptionist nodded calmly and began searching the database for any patient named.
"Nyoko."
It only took a few moments before she raised her eyes to Nagisa and nodded her head.
"Your wife is in room number fifty-six."
"Thank you very much.
Nagisa said with gratitude, rushing off quickly, appreciating her understanding of his anxiety and distress.
He dashed through the long, sterile white hallways, filled with the sharp scent of disinfectants that almost stung the nostrils.
All he could see was the number "56" drawing closer and closer, until he finally stood before the closed white door.
He hesitated for a few seconds, then grasped the cold metal handle, pressing it with his trembling hand.
The door opened quietly, revealing the scene he had been waiting for…
Nyoko was sitting on the white hospital bed, her long brown hair shimmering under the sunlight streaming through the window.
On the bedside was a small vase holding freshly blooming flowers, with vibrant colors that brought life to the room.
She turned to him at the sound of the door, her eyes sparkling despite the pale tone of her face.
As soon as she saw her husband, his suit a bit dirty, his hair tousled by the wind, and his glasses slightly askew, she laughed softly.
Her laughter...it was like music, breathing life into the otherwise lifeless room.
"Hello... my dear husband."
She said in a soft tone, like a morning breeze, and Nagisa's heart ignited, beating wildly, as if hundreds of butterflies had started flying inside him.
He smiled at her with tenderness, then approached until he was near her bed. He sat down on his haunches, as there were no chairs nearby.
"Yes... hello, my wife."
Nagisa said as he gently held her hand, running his fingertips in small circles on her pale skin, as if reassuring his heart through the warmth of her touch.
He raised his head to look into her enchanting brown eyes, his favorite eyes in the world, but his face carried a shadow of worry.
"What did the doctor say?"
He asked her in a low voice, filled with fear and concern.

