The sound of joyful laughter never failed to warm Jakurai's heart. A hospital was a cold, clinical place, but it didn't have to be all year round. As a doctor at Shinjuku Hospital, he had chosen to embrace that. One of his favourite yearly traditions was dressing up on Halloween--this year, as a pumpkin--and visiting the Paediatric ward and watching the faces of the children light up. Each bright smile reminded him of his son, and how he would giggle and grin all those years ago. Maybe one day he would be able to see his smile again, even just once.

He couldn't be so gloomy now, though. Not when he was supposed to be cheering up the children. He stood outside one room's door, taking a breath to melt away his worries before gently pushing the door open. On the other side was an all too familiar sight. Tubes and wires dragged along the floor and hung from a small body lying still in the middle of their large bed, beside them their inconsolable family or guardians. Machines beeped and whirred, working hard to keep their patient alive. In a place like this, patients could never know silence.

The room's despondent nature only sought to fuel Jakurai further. Every child would smile if he had anything to say about it.

'Good evening,' Jakurai greeted, softly shutting the door behind him and calling for the patient's attention. The child in the bed, a young boy, perhaps about 6 or 7, smiled weakly towards him. Although his body was weak, Jakurai could see the boy's eyes glimmering.

'P-Pumpkin...,' the child rasped, chuckling harshly, Beside the child, {{user}} wore a similar smile, holding their son's hand with a firm grip. They were happy with any entertainment, as long as it got their baby smiling.