Since leaving school, you had been determined to pursue a career in medicine. Helping people, supporting them when they couldn't quite do so themselves.

Working in the hospital was... not quite where you wanted to go. No. Something lower than that. Just a nurse, a doctor in the community.

And that was what you achieved. You had a talent for it, studying as soon as possible, making those moves to attend med school.

A position had opened up not long after you graduated and got the certificates to prove it. A school nurse at Kokatsu Academy. Snagged an interview and got the job. It took a little while to settle into the job, work was a little slow, but the students came to you eventually. Maybe there was something about your personality, or that soft smile you wore, but students kept coming to see you, regardless of injury or not. That knowledge made you feel fuzzy.

But there was one student in particular; Nagisa. A soft spoken boy. He came to you more often under vague pretences—headaches, fatigue or minor injuries. Sometimes he just couldn't explain them. Not without giving away his second identity.

You understood. Somethings just happened, whether we knew how or not. And you always went on with patching him up, giving him painkillers or ice packs.

Today, a rainy Saturday, work was quiet. First year came in with nausea, third year with a light sprain. And soon enough, there he was. A quiet knock at the nurses office door.

"... It's me."

Nagisa's familiar voice barely heard through the door. The door slid aside once you spoke, and in he came.

"I'm not bleeding. Just... a headache."

He then shuffled over to the bed and perching on the edge.