A serious Satoru

In the center of Tokyo was an hospital that was so big, it was literally an estate.

The hospital's buildings were caged in a tall thick white wall that had four red gates in the north, east, west and south directions. In the center of this medical estate, surrounded by smaller buildings, stood a massive skyscraper.

At the top right corner of each side of this skyscraper was the hospital's logo: a human heart that's in the middle of a white ring. The ring had "東京の心" written on it. This writing wasn't just referring to the skyscraper, but the whole medical estate.

People came from all over the world to be treated in "Tokyo's Heart". Not only was the name and location of this establishment the same, but the highest shareholder of this health institution was also the current Mayor of Tokyo.

Tokyo's Heart is the dream workplace of every doctor and medical personnel worldwide, probably because of the emolument, the experience or both. Working in Tokyo's Heart meant the chance to work with some of the greatest medical minds in the planets. Additionally, the janitor that instructs the cleaning robots in Tokyo's Heart gets paid more than an average salaryman.

The central skyscraper has 51 floors, ground floor included. The other structures surrounding it ranges from dorms to garages to cafeterias to rehabs to gyms to green parks.

One can only dream of entering this magnificent workplace through recommendations or connections from top medical schools.

Housemanship in Tokyo's Heart lasts for two years. At the end of the first year, the interns who lack potential get weeded out. And at the second year's end, the ones with "great potential" are hired; while the remaining interns are given a certificate of Internship participation.

To Tokyo's Heart and other top-notch hospitals, this certificate had little value. In contrast, to almost every smaller hospital, it spoke volumes of its holder. Because despite its name, it isn't just given to everyone that participated, but only to those deemed to have "good potentials".

A whole floor of the skyscraper is reserved for internship, and two or three interns are usually assigned to a medical room.

Abe Satoru had entered the internship program some months ago. He had been fortunate enough to be recommended by the Mayor of Tokyo to do his internship here — after his wealthy dad had pulled some strings, of course.

He is currently about to finish his first year, and he's paired with two nurses-in-training.

———

WEE-oww-WEE-oww!!!

The siren of an ambulance filled the air in the medical estate as it raced from the east gate with great speed.

Upon reaching the central skyscraper, the vehicle made a sharp left turn — this was easy to do because the vehicle didn't use wheels, it was hovering some inches over the ground. It finally stopped with its back doors facing one of the building's many entrances.

Immediately, two paramedics spurted out of the vehicle's back with an occupied gurney. Lying on the hovering stretcher, was a woman in desperate need of attention; she looked like a five year-old's artwork that involved lots and lots of red paint.

They dashed through the entrance and then down the lobby. The only sounds that could be heard were that of the stretcher humming and their shoes rubbing against the tiled floor. The previous murmuring that had been going on in the hospital's reception ceased, because the crowd could grasp how dire this situation was.

They had seen a few emergencies pass them by, but none was as serious as this. The patient could give out her last breath at any moment, assuming she wasn't already dead.

Beep. Beep.

This reoccurring sound

gave the paramedics hope. The panel at the edge of the electronic stretcher was the source. It showed her heart rate and even though it was reducing by the second, there were still bumps in the readings.

"My God, did....."

"What happened?"

"Is she going....?"

Questions were asked, but the paramedics didn't give the solicitors a second of their time. This wasn't the time to hear questions, let alone answer them.

The solicitors weren't even expecting the paramedics to stop and give them answers, but they had asked their questions and reflexively. They were humans that couldn't help but be stunned by what they saw.

One would think the emergency rooms would be on the ground floor, but the ground floor is fully dedicated to receptions for reasons only the shareholders — and maybe the architect — would know.

ERs started from the seventeenth floor and continued to the next two floors. The floor after that, the twentieth, was the internship floor — the floor his medical room was in.

If it was the year 2022, twenty three years ago, this woman wouldn't even make it to the fifth floor alive. But thanks to the advanced elevator technology, one can get to the top floor in just three seconds or less. This made the position of the floors matter less.

The trio got into one of the spacious lifts. Nobody dared to enter with them, because even a kid could tell this was something serious.

The closest to the control panel pressed the "20" button; immediately after, he pressed another button that was labeled "E".

The elevator whirred and moved up. Before its automated voice could finish saying: "Emergency Protocol: Hypertransit", the paramedics had handed the floating stretcher to two ladies who were coincidentally in front of the elevator.

They were both in light-blue scrubs, their nursing uniforms. After nodding to the exhausted paramedics, they each held a side of the gurney and effortlessly dragged the almost-lifeless woman to their Houseman — Abe Satoru.

———

He was wearing, over his casual clothes, a long white lab coat that had the hospital's logo embroidered on the front pocket. He had dark green eyes that complimented his light brown hair.

This young gentleman, that is humming and spinning around in his office chair as he happily waited for his lunch, is currently TH's best intern.

He hasn't recorded a death and has never failed to treat his patients. It's like he has medical knowledge directly imbedded in him.

But even though he is the hospital's ace, they aren't going to hire him. At the rate he's going, he isn't even going to get a certificate of participation because he is also Tokyo's Heart greatest headache.

He jokes with everything, so much that it's a miracle he hasn't lost a patient yet. And the only reason why the board is still coping with his everyday bullshit is because of his clean slate. Once that slate gets stained with blood, even the Governor's recommendation won't save him.

This reckless twenty-one year-old, that looks like an eighteen year-old and behaves like a five year-old, was the person The Human Federation claimed to be Xenn — The Most Wanted.

Satoru spun around joyfully, ignorant of the vote that's currently being held on the split planet, which will determine if he would get assassinated or not.

He has no memory of ever being in space and he's certain that he has lived on Earth all his life, even though he can't currently recall some parts of his past at the moment. This is because he had hit his head really hard, when he tripped on his first day of internship.

The nurses entered into the medical room with the injured woman, and Satoru was first taken aback then he carefully analyzed the situation. He knew exactly what this was.

"Oh, you guys had me there for a second. Though, how can you even call this a prank?"

"It's not. Why would I stress myself trying to prank you?" One of the nurses replied.

Her name is Hattori Akane. She is a pretty blonde that never hesitated to smack some sense into her idiot of an houseman.

"Of course you wouldn't own up to a failed prank. To be honest, I wouldn't either. Next time you want to try something like this, try reducing the amount of fake blood. It would make it more convincing— wait, where's our food!?"

"We were going to get lunch, befo—"

"So instead of getting lunch, you thought it would be a good idea to prank me?" He cut in, successfully ticking her off. "When it's my turn to get lunch, do you see me pulling pranks. Especially one as obvious as this."

"This isn't a prank. We were truly going to get lunch, before some paramedics handed her to us." The other nurse said, with her soft voice.

Her name is Fujiwara Yasura, and she's more cute than pretty. Her meekness, kindness and silky black shoulder-length hair, made Satoru have a soft spot in his heart for her.

After hearing Yasura's explanation, he turned to Akane with a disappointed look.

"I can't believe you would drag innocent Yasura into your failed excuse of a revenge prank."

"Idiot! This isn't the time for jokes."

"That is exactly what I'm telling you!" He replied, before sitting on his chair and turning his back to them.

He was pissed. How could Akane be this irresponsible? After all the times she had chastised him for doing the same thing.

In addition to his anger, he was also envious. Why hadn't he thought of such an intricate prank?

The beeping of the preprogrammed ECG panel and the slow rise-and-fall movement of the mannequin's chest made it look too real. He would've fallen for it, assuming they didn't overemphasize the amount of fake blood used. It was theoretically impossible for a human to still be alive after losing so much blood.

Instead of looking for an available competent houseman, Akane walked towards Satoru and spun his chair around till he faced her — almost throwing him off in the process.

"W-Wait, w-what are you about to do?" He asked her, as sweat rolled down the sides of his face.

There was nothing human about her strength, and she never held back whenever she needed to beat some sense into him.

She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer, her brown eyes piercing his dark green eyes.

He swallowed a ball of spit. There was never a positive outcome when this happened.

Slap! Slap! Slap!....

She swung her right hand quickly in a to-and-fro motion, with his face in the middle. She was hitting him with a barrage of slaps.

"This is a freaking matter of life and death, and you are giving me some crap about pranks and revenge!!"

"I ill ehami ha!" He muttered, in-between the slaps.

"Huh, what did you say?"

Akane asked, finally stopping.

"I said, I will examine her." He answered. She had successfully imparted some sense in him.

"Thanks." She said, with a cute smile.

The way she changed from a deadly monster, that about to murder him with repeated slaps, to this pretty nurse sent shivers down his spine.

Without wasting any more time, the nurses transferred the patient skillfully from the gurney to the room's only bed — with one of them looking at the houseman with disgust for not helping. In his defence, he had just survived a near-death encounter. He needed a second to recover.

Satoru held his patient's hand and as. he felt her low pulse, his eyes widened. She wasn't a dummy but a real human. The ridiculous state she was in had led him to believe otherwise.

"Is she dead?"

"Not yet, she might live...I think." He answered Yasura.

There wasn't an expression on his face, which made it unclear whether he was joking or not. Akane simply assumed it was the former.

"Can you be fucking serious for once?"

"Oho~ When are you going to do something about your foul mouth? It isn't just something a nice girl should have~"

Akane resisted the urge to break some of his bones. It wasn't too hard to do since her tolerance meter had been reset, thanks to the slaps she unleased on him earlier.

"You are one to talk about girls. Aren't you the guy every girl here think is scum?"

"Oh, you—"

"S-Satoru?"

A kind voice interrupted their habitual hassle, which made them turn to the owner.

"What is it, Yasura?" He asked.

His tone was soft and kind, completely different from the one he used to debate with Akane. He had always softened his voice when he talked to girls other than her.

He smirked as he looked at Akane with the corner of his eyes, he liked the way his change of tone angered her.

"T-The patient."

"Oh, I got distracted because of that overpowered bodybuilder."

This was the last straw. She was unable to hold back her rage anymore, as her tolerance meter overflowed with his bullshit. She springed towards him, breaking the floor she used to propel herself — successfully proving his point.

She was about to remind him how deadly she could be or how they went to the same martial arts school when they were small.

Either way, one thing is sure: he is going to remember everything because his life is definitely going to flash before his eyes, in a matter of seconds.

She stretched out her clenched fist, ready to smash his handsome face in. Yasura, who couldn't bear to watch the death of her beloved houseman, closed her eyes and started praying for his survival and full recovery.

But Satoru, who was going to be dead the very next second, wasn't even looking at his destined killer coming at him. His eyes were focused on another person, the patient.

"Where's her report?" He asked in an unusual tone that stopped Akane in her tracks.

Not only did his voice sound strange, but the air around him also changed. There was hardly anything that could make him lose the concentration he currently had.

Abe Satoru is serious.

If there are only seven wonders on Earth, a serious Satoru is definitely one of them.