Morrigan leaned against the wall outside the ICU, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, refusing to look through the glass at Nakamura as he moved around Kazuo's bed. The soft beeping of machines and the rustle of medical equipment filled the air, punctuated by the occasional murmur from the doctor.
William stood a few feet away. He alternated between watching Nakamura work and glancing at Morrigan, clearly gauging her mood.
"How long is this going to take?" Morrigan muttered, breaking the tense silence.
William shrugged. "Hard to say. Could be minutes, could be hours. Depends on what he finds."
"Great," Morrigan said. "So we just stand here and twiddle our thumbs while that psycho pokes around Kazuo's insides?"
"He's not going to hurt him," William said. "We've got eyes on him the whole time."
