To My Sunflower - Chapter 118

It had been half a year since Sean had lost half of his arm. He had arrived to Nagasaki City in a similar state as Hiroshima. And it was months before he was able to leave for another town or city in need.

Fortunately, he was able to compensate his arm loss with a fake bamboo attachment and hook that he had designed himself. It was a crude and horrid looking piece, but it allowed him to function in his duties.  When his medical team was more or less established in Nagasaki, he signed on for new convoys around the country.

He was working at a Kobe hospital, when one of the Wiesmen doctors had mentioned on an ingenious prosthetic that was manufactured out at the Nagano countryside. They were expensive, but revered for allowing fluid movement and easy fitting into clothing.  Most were being deployed to veteran patients at Koumi City Hospital; under a sponsored pilot project.

The mention of the prefecture and city brought his memory back to Eiji’s talk about his Hinata and the place they were from. If Eiji had survived Nagasaki, he would have likely returned to his hometown. His desire to know if Tyne and Eiji had survived was rekindled within him.

So he had applied for an assignment in the area.  But his assignment wasn’t approved until autumn of the post war year, when a new occupation convoy was made available.

He was eventually sent to Koumi hospital, where he was able to set an appointment for his prosthetic design for a time not long after his arrival.

His new team gave him was a small welcome and expression of appreciation on his first day. Shortly afterwards, he had his appointment. It was at one of the examination offices on the other side of the hospital.

Sean made his way down corridors of sterile white walls, polished floors that made squeaky noises every time the soles of his boots struck them; passing many patients waiting in the wings.

He stopped before a plain wood door with a nameplate that clearly indicated he was at the right place. This section of corridor was quiet and mellow from the late afternoon sun, which streamed through the hospital’s large windows.

He knocked on the door then patiently waited.

“Yes. Come in.” A deep yet soft male voice called out from the other side of the door.

Sean stepped inside. His mouth was momentarily speechless at the sight of the man’s beauty.

The prosthetics designer was an elegant picture in a simple gray kimono with his long dark hair held up with a blue ribbon. He stood to take a good look at Sean, especially his amputated arm.

“Please take a seat,” he said eventually, gesturing to a waiting chair near one side of a writing table that filled up half of the room’s space.

Sean sat on the waiting chair, in awe of the man’s delicate hands making graceful movements around his arms as they took measurements.

“I’m Sean.” He nervously blurted his name.

“Is that supposed to be a flirt? Because I’m a man.” The prosthetics designer answered, unimpressed.

Sean chuckled and introduced himself again. “I’m Sean. The one who failed at flirting with a man.”

The prosthetics designer frowned. Clearly not impressed.

“Americans. I applaud your good use of our language. Your manners are atrocious. Here we go by our family names. It’s not polite to call a person you’ve just met by their first name.” The prosthetics designer corrected him.

“I know. Honorifics and surnames are so British. I’m an American.” Sean lightly joked and yelped at the unexpected pinch to his skin.

“Sorry.” The prosthetics designer apologized, but by the tone of his voice he wasn’t.

“So what do I call you?” Sean prompted for the man’s name.

“Chikafuji, Hinata. Chikafuji-san to you.” Hinata cordially answered with an austere tone to his voice.

“Nice to meet you, Chikafuji-san. I guess, by your traditions, you can call me Campbell-san.”

Hinata paused with a frown. Somehow that sounded wrong. “On second thoughts. Maybe I should call you be your first name.”

“Oh, but flirting with a man.” Sean teased Hinata. Flashing him a lopsided grin.

Hinata gave him a wry look.

“It’s okay, Chikafuji-san. Call me whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

Sean lapsed into silence as he watched Hinata work.

Hinata diligently measured his arms and scribbled in his note book for sometime before he felt satisfied he had a solid design.

“I’ll pass these designs to Kominato-sensei, who will organize the manufacturing with our Weismen contact.”

Sean’s heart raced with a memory of the man he loved.

“Campbell-san. Are you okay?” Hinata asked as he noticed Sean’s face pale.

Sean snapped out of his moment with a civil smile that warmed his youthful face and brown eyes.

“Do you have an idea of when the piece will be ready?”

“You’ll need to speak with Kominato-sensei about this,” Hinata answered the question. “You can ask for him at reception.”

Sean nodded and left the examination room.

He cordially gave polite nods to the curious locals, who were obviously uncertain about the American marine corpsman causally parading about their hospital corridors.

“All in good time.” He sighed to himself.

For now, he made sure not to deviate from his intended destination of the reception desk.

“Hello.” He called out to the nurse seated at the large desk near the center of the main reception area.

She had been focused on her register book before lifting her gaze to greet him.

“Oh. Do I need to speak English?” The nurse began to fret with uncertainty on how she was going to communicate with the foreign man before her.

“I speak Japanese just fine.” Sean reassured her in the native language. “I’m looking for Kominato-sensei about my arm.”

The nurse nodded her head. She gave him instructions that led him further down the corridor and into another ward area. He eventually found the doctor he had been seeking in another small examination room.

His heart raced with hope when he closed the door behind him upon permission to enter.

Was god showing him mercy after all?  He wasn’t sure whether to believe it.  So many months he had searched hospital corridors for the face of his lover with crestfallen hope. He prayed in his heart that he wasn’t seeing a figment of his imagination.

The doctor had yet to pay attention to Sean who was standing before the examination room’s door. He was seated on a chair before a writing desk with a few medical journals piled to one corner.

Sean’s eyes traced the lean and solid outline of the doctor’s body in his white lab coat. The man’s dark hair was stylishly short and slicked back to reveal the soft angle of his jawline and long eyelashes. His lush lips were relaxed as his dark eyes were focused on the papers he was writing into.

It was just like his Ray to be absorbed in his work and not pay heed to a person standing behind him. Although, Ray was always aware of others around him like he had a third pair of eyes at the back of his head.

“I won’t be long.” The doctor said without turning his gaze away from his papers.

“Ray?” Sean bravely called out his lover’s name with hope.

The doctor’s writing hand paused in mid air. He turned and faced Sean with a troubled expression.

“Are you real?” A tear slipped down his cheek.

“My question to you.” Sean replied with his own tears falling from his eyes.

“Sean.” Ryōsuke’s voice trembled with the name of his lover.

He stood to face him. His hand tentatively hovered near Sean’s cheek. Hesitant to touch him, least his image fade like a sand castle being washed out to sea.

Sean smiled. He tenderly grabbed Ryōsuke’s hand and placed it on his wet cheek.

Tears fell from Ryōsuke’s eyes as he drew closer to Sean. “I missed you.”

“I’m home,” Sean replied.

The men passionately embraced, delving deep into each other with kisses and touches they hadn’t experienced for years.

“The war is over. Let’s be together,” Sean whispered into Ryōsuke’s ear.

Ryōsuke swooned in Sean’s embrace. He smiled and firmly answered with a yes.

“For as along as we live.”

The rest of their words were spoken with kisses.