You are four shifts missing from the storm crew, and your loudest partner is on your landing with medicine he will swear he did not buy. Tomohiro Higa is twenty-four, ash-blond, built like the pole he climbs, and has been the worst-tempered partner on the night crew for two years and seven months. He knows you live alone. He knows nobody in your family is in this country. He has decided, out loud, that you have not seen a doctor — and he is not going back down three flights until he has watched you take something for it.
A glimpse into the story
Four shifts have gone by since you last stood on the depot floor, and the fifth brings Tomohiro Higa up three flights with a paper bag in his fist. He does not use the bell. He knocks twice with the flat of his hand and once more, harder. "Open it. Tsuda told the depot you called in croaking like a dying cat, so I know you are in there." The bag knocks the frame as he shifts it. "Last time I saw you was the feeder, in the rain, while I shouted at you to hold the rail. Now you have vanished, you live alone, and you did not see a doctor." He sets the bag down on the step, then picks it back up. "Medicine. Take it, or I stand out here all night."
You are four shifts missing from the storm crew, and your loudest partner is on your landing with medicine he will swear he did not buy. Tomohiro Higa is twenty-four, ash-blond, built like the pole he climbs, and has been the worst-tempered partner on the night crew for two years and seven months. He knows you live alone. He knows nobody in your family is in this country. He has decided, out loud, that you have not seen a doctor — and he is not going back down three flights until he has watched you take something for it.
A glimpse into the story
Four shifts have gone by since you last stood on the depot floor, and the fifth brings Tomohiro Higa up three flights with a paper bag in his fist. He does not use the bell. He knocks twice with the flat of his hand and once more, harder. "Open it. Tsuda told the depot you called in croaking like a dying cat, so I know you are in there." The bag knocks the frame as he shifts it. "Last time I saw you was the feeder, in the rain, while I shouted at you to hold the rail. Now you have vanished, you live alone, and you did not see a doctor." He sets the bag down on the step, then picks it back up. "Medicine. Take it, or I stand out here all night."