She's much prettier than I ever could have imagined. And, not in the way that the former bearers and proto-types are or were 'pretty'. Her beauty is that of a humble flower, even if she doesn't quite act like one. It's funny, though, how she doesn't seem to acknowledge me at all, even though she does in a way. A way being that as her chauffer, and telling her what her next or current mission is, and sometimes even going someplace to get her or her young daughter something. I've seen the look in her eyes when she looks at Takayama, or when she talks about him. And I've seen the gleam in his eyes when he looks at or talks to her. It's none of my business I suppose. I should just stay out of it and out of harm's way... right?
A loud clatter of breaking glass sounded from the kitchen as well as a scream beyond the white double-doors leading to it. The kitchen attendant who was just leaving the restroom had a frustrated look on his face as he quickly walked with heavy steps towards the kitchen, pushed open the swinging doors, and cried out, "MASANE?!" Inside the kitchen Rihoko was shaking her head and rubbing her forehead with her hand as her mother, Masane Amaha, was sprawled on the ground with broken glass from some plates she had dropped scattered around her. The kitchen attendant yelled at her some more, his words being muffled from the expensive double doors, being made indefinable beyond them. Rihoko put on some small gloves that she had brought with her that day in the pocket of her pink overalls and began to pick up the glass. Some blood trickled from the woman's arm from some glass that had embedded into it. The man sighed and said to Rihoko that he would clean it up and that she should get her mother into the infirmary. She nodded and thanked him and proceeded to do so.
"Mom, you need to be more careful around fragile things!" chastised Rihoko to her mother. She was a young girl of the age of six with her black hair down save for a pair of small pig-tails high on the sides of her head. She wore today an outfit of a white long-sleeved shirt and light-pink overalls over them and a pair of pink flats. She sat in a comfy green chair across from her mother who sat in the medical chair/recliner across from her. She wore her usual yellow jacket with a black tank-top underneath and blue jeans. She grumbled and rumpled her hair with her hand.
"Ooh... I know, Riko. I was just trying to help you out in the kitchen for once!" she explained with a chuckle.
"That's what you said last time mom." she mumbled. Rihoko had a sour expression on until Masane started tickling her. They both laughed. The automatic sliding door to Rihoko's right slid open and a young man stepped inside. Masane looked skeptically at him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him.
A look of surprise and shock took to Rihoko's face as she asked, "Whoa! Mr. Segawa, are you a doctor?" He pushed up his dark-blue glasses and chuckled.
"No, I'm not, Rihoko. But I am a certified nurse. And the doctor happens to be off today and his substitute called in sick a few hours ago, so I'll be replacing him for the day." Hiroki Segawa replied to her in a pleasant tone. He went over to the washing area and washed his hands, then putting on some white elastic gloves. He turned to the young woman of twenty-three sitting in the recliner chair. "So, Masane, what have you done to get you landed in here?" he casually asked her, not really expecting her answer to be anything very interesting or unique, as it usually wasn't.
"I just fell and dropped a few plates and a shard scratched me. It's no big deal!" she muttered, not wishing to stay any longer. He gently took hold of her left arm and examined the wound with a magnifying glass. A few sizable pieces of glass protruded from the four-inch gash. Rihoko was leaning out of her seat trying to look at the injury as well, although with a slightly disgusted look on her face. The twenty-five year old man set down the tool on the table beside him and announced to his patient,
"Well, Masane, it looks like you'll be needing stitches. We will proceed with this now. You have the options of either being sedated and awake, where you will feel no pain, or you may be asleep and sedated until it's over." A repulsed look came on Masane's face as she put her hands up close to her in a fearful manner.
"Ugh, put me asleep! I don't think I could stand watching you operate on me!"
"…It's only stitches, Masane." he muttered. He went to a drawer in a cabinet behind him and took out a syringe. He shuffled through another drawer looking for something else. The woman stared at him, horrified all the way, from the time she saw a glimpse of the syringe to when he turned back around to her with some liquid inside of it.
"Just what is that?!" she demanded, her eyes ever-staring at the syringe in his hand with the index finger of her un-injured arm pointing accusingly at it.
"It's the sleep sedation." he calmly said to her, fixing again his glasses on the bridge of his nose with his index and middle finger. "Now, if you'll please just close your eyes, you'll be asleep soon enough."
"Mom! Just do it and get it over with!" Rihoko whined. Segawa added,
"Besides, wouldn't you rather get this one shot and not have to see me taking out the glass and putting in the stitches, or get a shot and watch it all happen?" Amaha exhaled deeply and finally gave in in a grumble.
"Wow, Mr. Segawa!" exclaimed Rihoko, "You can do everything!" Not the slightest touch of sarcasm was in the sentence of the young girl. He laughed.
"Thank you, Rihoko. I try my best. Now then, would you like to stay in the room or leave? I believe Mr. Takayama is taste-testing out some sweets that might be at the party tomorrow if you would like to join him." he said to her. A look of pure joy excitement took to the girl's sweet face as she sped out of the room. She peeked around the door's corner a short moment later to yell,
"Bye mommy! I'll see you later!"
"Bye…honey, see you…later…" Masane said, her voice trailing off into a whisper. When the girl was running out of the room, Masane's mind has been preoccupied, and so Segawa gave her the shot and within seconds the young woman had fallen asleep. He pulled up a stool to her chair and began pulling out the shards of glass in her skin with a pair of silver tweezers from the tray next to him. Her regeneration and healing were very quick due to the Witchblade having chosen her so it was only a matter of time that her wound would heal up after he had finished taking out the glass and putting on some antiseptic ointment on the wound. Her hair looked like she had just gotten out of bed, as usual, and so out of some courtesy he brushed it for her.
Hiroki's smile had disappeared by now as he continued to gently brush Masane's short brown hair. The sleep sedation would wear off in a few minutes. He took off his gloves and glasses and set them on the desk behind him. The brightness in the room dimmed a bit as the evening set in. A golden glow cast against Amaha's soft skin. He brushed back some hair from her forehead. A peaceful expression was on her face. He took her left hand and held it lightly between his.
"Masane…" whispered Hiroki tenderly. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "It's unfair…"
I've always loved this couple, Masanegawa, Hisane, Masaroki, whatever, you name it whatever you like since the official coupling name doesn't seem to exist yet here :(. I mean, Tozawa seemed to have loved Masane, and Takayama loved Masane, but what about poor Segawa-kun? Is there no one for him to love and no one to love him?! (~T_T~) (It should be obvious by now that I am a girl.)
It's unlikely that I'll ever finish this story, just like most of my stories, just to warn you.
I thank you for reading, and comments are always appreciated, no matter how critical.