“Your arm.” Dr. Kenji points at my hand.
My entire sleeve is soaked. Blood drips from my fingertips to the boards below my feet. In the water, Kurosaki’s pet fish gather to suck at the blood dripping between the slats.
“This way.” Dr. Kenji makes a polite gesture to the bench. He sets the first-aid kit next to him, pops the top, and takes out a pair of scissors, a roll of gauze, a bottle of antiseptic, and a cotton swab.
“How long have you been working for Kurosaki?” I ask.
He has his face downturned, so I can’t tell if he’s frightened by the question, but his hands don’t tremble at all when he gripsthe cotton with a tool and turns the bottle over it. “You can ask him if you’re curious. Be careful. This will sting.”
“You don’t…ah.” I hiss as the medicine hits my skin. The pain is as sharp as the knife that sliced me. “You don’t act like the rest of the members.”
“I am not a member.” He sets the cotton swab down and takes a clean cloth from the kit. Carefully, he wipes away the excess that ran down my elbow. “I am a… private doctor on payroll.”
He’s the yakuza’s private medical staff.
“Then Kurosaki trusts you.” I study him with new eyes.
“I don’t have any answers for you.”
“You haven’t heard my questions.”
He pauses and then unrolls the gauze. “If I may be so bold, I’d like to ask you something first.”
“Go ahead.” The medicine is still stinging.
His eyes lift to mine. “What is your relationship with J?”
I stare at him blankly.
“Will you continue to see her?”
“She has something I want,” I say.
“She suffers from a serious heart condition. Are you aware?”
I dip my chin.
“The electrical signals that control her heartbeat are blocked between the upper and lower chambers.” He wraps the gauze firmly around my arm but not too tightly that it feels like it’ll cut off blood circulation. “She requires a permanent pacemaker to regulate her heart rhythm.”
“A pacemaker?” I don’t remember seeing or feeling any wires when I touched her last night.
“She has to measure her heart rate at all times to ensure the upper and lower chambers of her heart are beating regularly.”
I rub my chin. “That’s why she wears the watch?”
“It’s an alarm, not a cure. Thereisno cure for her.” Dr. Kenji pauses. “J has to live like the dead. No adrenaline. No stress. No excitement. She cannot handle this life.”
Would he be so concerned if he saw the way she told me off in the chem lab last night?
“She’s stronger than you think.”
Dr. Kenji snips the gauze and secures it with a pin. “Yes, but her heart is weaker thanyouthink.”
“She will never know this part of me.”
“You are the son of theoyabun. Thatisyour new identity. You cannot separate who you are from who you used to be.”
“My business with J has nothing to do with the yakuza,” I insist. “It’s a separate matter.”
