Hiroshi sighs in annoyance. He throws a news paper to a sofa, upon a pile of other news paper. On the first page of the paper there is a headline "Splashy Action of The Meteor". Last night accident, as it was expected, becomes headlines of some news paper, beats the bombing of Middle East news, and even Japanese political issues as well.
Hiroshi bitterly smiles. It looks like the accident was an opportunity for the press to vent their frustration toward Takeshi. There are some who wrote it in objective, but there are more who slipped personal opinions and groundless assumptions that mocked and cornered Takeshi. The news paper he had just read even wrote "may because too ashamed and feel inappropriate to receive the award, all of Takeshi's organs decided to boycott and refused to accept it."
Someone opens the door and calls his name. Hiroshi turns his head toward the door, seeing Azuka walks toward him while handing a pile of fans messages. Hiroshi receives it and thanks him before he stands.
"Send my wish to Takeshi. I really want to visit him, but you know how busy my department is right now," Azuka says in regret. They together exit the room. "I understand. I will give him your greetings," Hiroshi replies. Then they are separated.
Hiroshi walks to the main door. His forehead is knitted to see a group of reporters has sat on the company's building terrace. Actually Hiroshi is so reluctant to out from the building if he had to deal with them. But he has to go to the hospital to take Takeshi's examination result and then visit him at his apartment. Once awoke last night, that stubborn friend of him was insisted to go out from the hospital, despite of his condition. Hiroshi sighs a few times, then steps out side.
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The elevator door is opened. Hiroshi walks with hands full of things from Takeshi's fans that deposited to him in front of the apartment. They are piling to reach his nose. Hiroshi slips a key into Takeshi's apartment door, then opens it with his elbow.
After putting all his carriages on the coffee table, Hiroshi can see Takeshi in front of him. Still wearing a navy blue yukata, Takeshi sits lean on the sofa back, reading a news paper. His pale face looks sad.
Hiroshi sighs and takes the paper away from Takeshi. "Don't read it," he says as he throws the paper on the table. Takeshi gazes at him for a while then shifts his sight to the floor. Hiroshi throws his body to the sofa. "Why have you gotten up already ? You should be in total bed rest. Have you forgotten what the doctor said last night ?" he asks.
Takeshi stares at him. "I have fully recovered," he answers as weak as his smile, "I think I can even back to work again today."
Hiroshi widens his eyes. "Are you out of your mind ?" he barks.
"I really am recovered," Takeshi insists.
"You think you are, but you are not," Hiroshi snaps as he glaring and takes a big envelop from his bag.
"This is your examination result. Beside having malnutrition, you have a gastric infection because gastric acid problem," Hiroshi explains. Takeshi drops his head to avoid his dagger sight. Hiroshi snuffles. When Takeshi does that it means Takeshi still persistent with his own opinion.
"Instead, I should just forced you to be inpatient last night. It's true that illness must be fought, but that doesn't meant we ignore the sign given by our body. Your body must be very upset to your stubbornness until it collapsed," Hiroshi long nags. Takeshi does not say anything.
Hiroshi stands and takes a couple package on the table. "Here, eat. I bought you noodles. Also an old lady gave you a porridge. She said it is a Chinese porridge that good for health," Hiroshi says while opening a hamper he talked about then inhales the delicious aroma that sneaks out from it.
"Smell so delicious!" Hiroshi says enjoying the aroma. He then walks to the kitchen to take utensils.
Takeshi leans his head to the hamper to inhale the delicious smell, then leans back and rests his head on the sofa. "I don't have an appetite," he weakly announces.
Hiroshi comes out of the kitchen with eyes that want to eat Takeshi up. "You don't need to have appetite. Most important thing is you have to eat so you can quickly recover. How can a famous artist be a malnutrition patient ? How shameful it is ?! Geeezz.. how will I be responsible to aunty ?!" Hiroshi starts nagging while filling a bowl with the porridge.
"Here, Eat!" he commands while hands the bowl. Takeshi shakes his head. Hiroshi keeps his hand in the air, holding the bowls right in front of Takeshi's face while staring at the guy. Takeshi must be really sick, he thinks in his heart. Usually Takeshi always enthusiastically eats food from his fans.
"How about this. If you eat, I will tell you a good news," Hiroshi offers after some minutes passed by. Takeshi glares back at him. "Tell me the good news, then I will eat," Takeshi makes a bid.
"Okay," Hiroshi agrees. "The good news is, Your mother is own her way here," he continues. Takeshi's eyes suddenly shine. "Really ?" he confirms with a weak smile. Hiroshi nods. Takeshi takes the bowl then starts spooning the porridge and blows its hot air before feed it to his own mouth. "Is it good ?" Hiroshi asks, answered by a nod.
When it is just about to have the third spoon, suddenly Takeshi puts the bowl and in hurry goes to bathroom with a hand covers his mouth. Inside the bathroom, Takeshi is forced to let all that just came inside his stomach out. His stomach still refuses any food. With a panting and a tear drops on the toilet bowl, Takeshi flushes the toilet. Hiroshi can only stands in front the bath room door with a sad look staring at him.