The morning after that outrageous school sports festival, I found myself staring into the mirror at my bathroom sink.
"Good thing my arm healed up nicely..." I muttered to myself.
Thanks to the white-coated angel, Doctor Shimae Eien, my arm had been restored perfectly. I had to give her credit—healing a ruptured limb back to normal was nothing short of miraculous. The dull, throbbing pain still lingered, but from experience, I knew it would fade soon enough.
"You keep coming back with all these dramatic injuries. I've memorized your name, you know—the boy with those dead eyes."
She had said that to me this morning in the nurse's office. Fair enough, I supposed.
"Oh, and Akaya-kun, the man in dark sunglasses was asking for you. You should probably go see him."
I got up reluctantly, and sure enough, as soon as I stepped outside the nurse's office, I was caught by a man in black wearing sunglasses.
"We meet again, Makoto Akaya," he said.
