I slept soundly for the rest of the night and woke up feeling great. Maybe it was thanks to Bepo’s herbal tea. I also felt like my thoughts were more organized and crisp. It seemed that I’d actually be able to get through my work that day.
“Hey. You’re looking better today,” the Junker said, laughing.
“What?” I asked. “Did I really look that bad?”
“Of course you did! You’ve looked miserable for days.”
“Oh… Sorry if I worried you,” I said.
“Now don’t get all weird on me! I guess you’re just not quite back to normal yet.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I just had some issues on my mind. I don’t want to make everyone else feel gloomy because of me.”
“Hmph… Well, that’s good to hear. When you’re off your game, the other kids get mopey along with you,” Wolf said. He patted me on the head and went over to the table.
At times like this, he never pried too deeply. I’d never heard him say, “You got something on your mind?” or “If you’ve got trouble, tell me about it.” But I understood that this was actually a sign of his kindness. We’d been living together for three years, so I knew him pretty well by now.
The old man treated me like an equal human being. That’s why he didn’t cross any boundaries or invade my privacy, the way parents might with their children. He treated me like a fully-fledged person with my own personal space.
That sense of privacy also felt perfectly comfortable to me. If I asked him for help, completely distraught, Wolf would listen to everything I had to say without hesitation and do what he could. He’d do the same for Shachi and Penguin and Bepo, too. That’s what he was like. And it was why we didn’t need to trade sappy lines. We respected one another and kept things comfortable, free, and easy.
Wolf and I were chatting at the table when the other three came down. It was time for breakfast, a daily ritual the five of us had shared almost every day of the last three years.
We dug into our meal of sautéed fish with rice. It was delicious. We took turns doing the cooking, but Penguin and Shachi in particular were getting very good at preparing meals. I wasn’t sure if they liked cooking or just had a natural talent for it. At the very least, I was thankful for it, because I never seemed to improve.
“How’s the fish today, Law?” Shachi asked me.
“It’s good! Great flavor,” I said.
“Yessss!” Shachi cheered. His happy mood was so infectious that we all broke out in smiles.
That’s right. This place is where I’ll always belong.
The snow from the day before had stopped hours ago, and now the sky was crystal clear. We got on our bikes and headed for town. The old man saw us off. I rode down the alley between the grocery and the bar, then passed the temple at the center of town to reach the clinic where I worked. This was how my days started.
I said good morning to the doctor, then changed into my white coat. Pleasure Town was a peaceful place, but because this was its only medical clinic, and three-quarters of the year the place was covered in snow, there was always a ton of sick people to deal with.
My expertise was in surgery, but thanks to the working experience the doctor had allowed me to have over the last three years, I could handle just about any kind of illness now. Colds were a no-brainer, and I could even attend to the needs of patients with serious, potentially fatal lung or heart issues with full confidence in my ability. And of course, it felt good to know that my skills as a doctor were increasing.
“Thanks again, Law!” said the fishmonger, waving. He’d asked me to treat the nerve pain in his left hand.
What if...what if there were no such thing as white lead disease? Would I be helping run the family hospital, along with my parents and Lammy right now? It was a dazzling thought to consider. That world was a vision of bliss.
But at the same time, it was a world that would never exist. I couldn’t return to the past; I had to face forward and keep moving. For now, I had the joy of close friends and a couple of nagging troubles to keep me company instead.