Outbound

See You Later

For the next few days, Hayakawa works diligently behind the scenes. He reaches out to each member of Naoya's old crew through various channels, attempting to convince them to come out of hiding and join forces once more. The efforts are not without their difficulties. Some members require more coaxing and persuasion than others. But eventually, one by one, they begin to give in to Hayakawa's pleas. After a week of tireless work and persistence, Hayakawa manages to successfully convince almost every member of Naoya's old crew to join them. Some took more convincing than others, while a few refused outright, but overall, the turnout is better than expected. The ones who agreed to join up with Naoya are now lying low, waiting for further instructions.

Naoya is inside a hotel room Hayakawa bought. It's almost evening...

"You seem to be in deep thought, Naoya." Ms. Fujiwara says while Naoya is thinking to himself sitting on the couch. Naoya snaps out of his thoughts, turning to Ms. Fujiwara with a slightly sheepish expression. "Ah, you caught me. I was just thinking about the old days, remembering the good times and the bad," he admits with a nostalgic smile. "It's strange, you know? These past few days have brought back a lot of memories." Ms. Fujiwara smiles softly, understanding the sentiment. "It's natural to reminisce about the past, especially when it's been so long since you've seen these people. But maybe it's not just nostalgia," she adds, her voice gentle. "Maybe it's also the realization of how much we've changed since those times. You can't turn back the clock, but you can use the knowledge and the experiences you've gained to move forward."

"Moving forward huh? Haven't heard that since forever." Ms. Fujiwara chuckles softly, the sound filled with a touch of melancholy. "You're not the same person you were back then, Naoya. None of us are the same as we used to be. People change, circumstances change. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes, it's necessary to move on and build something new instead of holding onto the past." "Before I move on forward, I have to see someone...most likely the last time." Ms. Fujiwara looks at Naoya, a slight crease forming in her forehead. She senses the importance of this "someone" and the weight it holds for Naoya. "Who is it?" She asks gently. "My son." Naoya says plainly. Ms. Fujiwara's face softens at this revelation. "Your son..." she repeats quietly, a tinge of sadness in her voice. She places her hand on Naoya's shoulder, her touch gentle and understanding. "And you haven't seen him in a long time?" "He has been bound to a hospital bed ever since he was 5." Ms. Fujiwara's grip on Naoya's shoulder tightens ever so slightly at this information. "I see... " she whispers, her voice filled with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. "It must have been difficult for both of you, not being able to share moments together for years."

"It's not that I am not sharing moments with him. It's that I can't. He is in a coma." Ms. Fujiwara's expression saddens even further upon hearing this, a mixture of pity and concern. "Oh, Naoya..." she whispers, her voice filled with empathy. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry for what you've gone through. Being the parent of a child in a coma...it must be excruciatingly difficult to endure." "Don't worry about it. I learned to keep on living this way, keep on believing someday he will wake up." Ms. Fujiwara nods, still feeling a deep sense of sympathy for Naoya's situation, but also recognizing his strength and resilience. She gently squeezes his shoulder, offering her silent support. "You're a strong person, Naoya," she whispers, her voice filled with admiration. "To hold onto hope and belief despite such hardship...not everyone has the courage to do that." "I appreciate it, Fujiwara. You can join me if you want. He is in Santo Hospital. It's not too far from here." Ms. Fujiwara hesitates for just a moment before nodding in agreement. "I'll come with you, Naoya," she says quietly, a note of sincerity in her voice. "Being there for someone during a difficult time is important, no matter the circumstances. I want to support you, if you'll let me."

Naoya and Ms. Fujiwara set out towards the hospital. They navigate through the bustling city streets before eventually reaching their destination - Sanne Hospital. As they step through the entrance, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the crisp air-conditioning hit them, creating a stark contrast from the world outside. Ms. Fujiwara looks around the lobby, her eyes lingering on the clean white tiles and the various signs pointing towards different wards. As they approach the reception desk, a kindly elderly nurse looks up at them, her eyes warm and welcoming. "How can I help you?" she asks with a gentle smile. Naoya takes a step forward, gathering his composure. "I'm here to visit a patient," he says, keeping his voice steady. "My son, he's in Room 234." Nurse speaks with a gentle tone. "Oh! Hello Mr. Naoya. How have you been?" Naoya's eyes gleam with a mixture of surprise and relief that the nurse remembers him. "I've been... well," he responds, a hint of sincerity in his voice. "But tell me. How's my son doing?" The nurse smiles softly, a sense of understanding in her eyes. "Your son is... holding up well, considering everything. He's been stable, but there's been no significant change in his condition. He's still in a coma, just like always." Ms. Fujiwara listens intently, her expression a mix of sympathy and compassion. "Thank you for taking care of him. We'll be going to the room now." The nurse nods understandingly. "Of course. Please feel free to stay as long as you'd like. We'll be here if you need anything." With that, she turns her attention back to her work, leaving Naoya and Ms. Fujiwara to make their way to the room.

Naoya and Ms. Fujiwara walk quietly down the hallway, their footsteps echoing softly against the tiles. As they approach Room 234, Naoya pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath to brace himself. He then pushes the door open and steps inside. The room is small and sterile, with the hum of machinery and the steady beep of monitors filling the air. The bed in the center is occupied by a young boy who looks so peaceful, despite the tubes and wires hooked up to his body. Ms. Fujiwara follows Naoya into the room, her expression somber as she looks at the young boy in the bed. She walks closer, her eyes scanning over him gently. Naoya moves to the bedside, sitting down on the chair next to the bed. He reaches out and gently takes his son's hand in his own, his touch gentle and tender. Naoya's eyes never leave his son's face as he takes in his features, the way his eyelashes flutter ever so slightly, the peaceful expression on his face, and the steady rise and fall of his chest. The monitor beside the bed continues to beep monotonously, a reminder of the reality of the situation. Ms. Fujiwara stands silently beside Naoya, her heart aching for him.

Naoya's grip on his son's hand tightens slightly, a mixture of love, longing, and sorrow swirling within him. "Hey, buddy," he whispers softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's me... It's dad. I'm here, right beside you. Just like always." He takes a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threaten to fall. The room is filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the monotonous beep of the heart monitor and Naoya's hushed voice. Ms. Fujiwara watches silently, her heart breaking for the scene unfolding before her. Naoya continues to speak softly, addressing his son with a tender tone, as if he's simply having a casual conversation. He tells him about his day, about the people he met, and the mundane things that happened. As Naoya talks, his voice falters occasionally, his emotions getting the better of him. He wipes away a stray tear that threatens to fall, but he doesn't stop. He continues to speak to his son, hoping that someday, his son will hear him and wake up from his long slumber.

 "Don't keep me waiting any longer, Yosuke" The room remains silent except for the steady hum of the heart monitor and the occasional beep. Naoya continues to hold his son's hand, his face filled with a mix of hope, sadness, and determination. After a long while, he finally stands up, his grip on his son's hand reluctantly loosening. He turns to Ms. Fujiwara, who has been standing silently beside him the whole time. "We should probably go," Naoya says quietly, his voice filled with a pang of sadness. He gently places his son's hand back on the bed, unable to resist tracing his fingers over his son's cheek before stepping back. Ms. Fujiwara nods silently in agreement, her heart aching for Naoya. They turn to leave the room, the steady beeping of the heart monitor echoing softly behind them.