Hinata spent the night at the hospital to fashion a limb for the amputee veteran. In between, he attended to Akira; making sure the man was resting comfortably.
His heart was troubled by the fact that Akira's wound wasn't showing signs of further healing. He almost went into a panic when Akira didn't respond to his wake up call. Ryōsuke was able to check his vitals and confirm that he was still alive.
"For how long. I don't know." Ryōsuke had said with a sorrowful tone to his voice.
Hinata had refused to believe that Akira would suffer a similar fate to Eiji. Akira wasn't going to die because of him. He wouldn't allow it.
He was grateful for the distraction the prosthetic making gave him. The amputee's boys had gathered and returned with the materials he had needed. He was able to set up a workshop in one of the hospital's small rooms.
When Hinata had realized that the boys had strong connections with others in the town, he introduced them to Kei and Rei, who were reluctant to know the boys at first. Obviously distrustful of their nature. Especially when they seemed too friendly with Hinata too soon. Rei had grumbled about Hinata being too trusting for his own good, before taking the amputee's boys under his wing.
But Hinata had hoped that the twins would be able to find a friendship with them, and be kids again. He was concerned that they were adults before they could've enjoyed their childhood. If they could enjoy a small time of their youth that would put some of his mind at ease.
"Children need to be children." He sighed to himself as he stared over the tools and makeshift materials laid out on the table, which was once a teacher's desk.
"My job begins."
He commenced in penciling outlines from the amputee's shoe. Working in his knowledge of seam lines, joins and folds to fashion the pattern of a lower leg device.
Hours ticked on. Day became night. The air carried the typical autumn chill. Mellow chirping and buzzing gave more focus to his thought processes. A few patterns he scrapped and redid over. He had almost given up hope of a design that would do justice.
"No. I can't quit. That man needs a fake leg to live." He convinced himself whenever those thoughts of quitting tried to settle in his mind.
It was towards the heart of night when he felt satisfied with a fake leg design. One he could make with what he had that would last for a long time.
Ryōsuke had checked in on Hinata a few times to see his progress. It was late at night when he was able to spend more time to observe Hinata's work from the back of the room. He smiled longingly at the Hinata's complete focus over parts, strewn in an order, across an old teacher's desk.
His heart raced as a memory of another man lovingly surfaced to his mind. A person he longed for and could never see again. Hinata's working ethic was similar to that man.
Back and forth. In and out. Ryōsuke checked in on Hinata and watched him work. Constantly amazed with the man's progress every time he observed. Hinata was fashioning a device as a clockwork manufacturer.
Dawn was high in the sky when Hinata finally declared the prosthetic device completed. Exhausted, but satisfied.
Ryōsuke had a tear in his eye when he saw the bamboo prosthetic standing on the old teacher's desk.
Hinata molded six, smooth, bamboo sticks into the shape of a lower leg. Holding them in place with woven bamboo basket material, which was cleverly nailed at joins, so they wouldn't aggravate the man's natural skin. The sticks were joined to a wooden shoe tree where the underside had glued woven sack cloth to ensure no slippage when out it was out of shoes. The fitting device was soft leather braces and belts designed for easy adjustments.
"Amazing." Ryōsuke gasped with awe.
He praised Hinata's tireless efforts, ingenuity and product.
Hinata humbly brushed off his praises. Telling him that the proof was in the amputee veteran's acceptance of the device.
It was in the afternoon when Nakamura-san and his family entered the hospital.
Hinata greeted them in the old headmaster's office that Ryōsuke used as private consultation room.
Nakamura-san's well mannered wife in a modest kimono dropped to her knees with thankful bows at the sight of the fake leg Hinata presented to them.
"Can I touch it?" One of Nakamura-san's sons whispered with awe. Tears glistened in his eyes as he fingered the device.
Hinata smiled as he fitted the device to Nakamura-san's amputated leg. Taking note of the further adjustments he needed to make before he felt confident the man could walk away with it.
Nakamura-san laughed with joy and felt sprightly as he tested his new limb.
"This's better than my old leg." He grinned at the prosthetic as he hopped and power walked up and down the corridor outside the office.
He bowed low with gratitude to Hinata. Declaring the man as his extended family member.
"If you ever need anything. I'm your man!" Nakamura-san flashed Hinata a hearty grin.
Hinata stifled a yelp at the firm pat to his back. He smiled at the sight of the man's wife, who was scolding him about his bad manners.
Nakamura-san sons were watching their parents with relief and content expressions. Hinata did the final adjustments. The Nakamuras left the hospital with a new lease of life.
Ryōsuke led Hinata back into his office and uncorked a bottle of sake. A favorite he had been keeping aside for a special moment. It was meant to be a reunion promise. The state of the war. He had lost hope of his promise being fulfilled. Sharing a drink with Hinata for his ingenuity was another worthwhile cause to compensate for his loss.
"Kominato-sensei. Are you sure?" Hinata looked to the sake cup before him.
"It's fine. Call it medicinal." Ryōsuke reassured him with a cocky grin.
Hinata accepted his reward. Savoring the bittersweet aroma of the aged alcohol.
Ryōsuke's heart raced at the way Hinata held his small cup at the base.
"Just like Sean." He sighed.
"Sorry?" Hinata innocently asked. Not catching Ryōsuke's words that he had mumbled to himself.
"Hope it tastes okay." Ryōsuke answered.
Hinata nodded and complimented the drink. They enjoyed their time with civil conversation.