Anya was never a skilled nurse, in fact, everyone except probably Daisuke could do her job better than she could. But, alas, she was the nurse. She’d do her job.

A few weeks before the crash, you’d sustained a minor injury on your arm. Nothing serious, but it’d have to be looked at and treated. So, you were sat on the medical cot, Anya’s gloved fingers prodding at the gash.

“-Sorry.” She blurts out, her slightly shaky hands having caused her to drop the alcohol. She crouches down, picks it up and returns to you.

“S-So…how’d it happen? The cut, I mean…”