The day before her discharge, the attending physician, Dr. Higashi, stood by her bedside holding a stack of examination reports.
The expression on his face was in a superposition between “relieved” and “confused.”
“Miss Hoshino,” he held up the CT scan to the light from the window, then raised and lowered it repeatedly to confirm he wasn’t mistaken, “Well, how should I put it… your recovery speed is indeed far beyond our expectations.”
“Far beyond as in how far?”
Ritsu stood at the door of the hospital room, holding a cup of coffee, and casually asked.
Dr. Higashi pushed up his glasses.
“The healing of the fracture site is roughly equivalent to the recovery level of a normal person after two to three months. As the saying goes, ‘it takes a hundred days to mend a broken bone,’ but Miss Hoshino has recovered about eighty percent in just one month. The repair of the spleen is good, and the intracranial bleeding has been completely absorbed… To be honest, given the extent of her injuries at the time, she would have needed at least—”
He paused, as if choosing his words.
“…at least half a year to a year to recover to her current state.”
Haruka opened her mouth, wanting to say something but not knowing what.
She couldn’t exactly say it was because her body had been reanimated by a borrowed soul, so it recovered so quickly.
“So,” Ritsu’s coffee cup paused at his lips, “that means she can be discharged now?”
“Uh, from a physiological standpoint, yes.”
Dr. Higashi closed the folder.
“All the data are within safe ranges, you could even say she is very healthy. If I didn’t look at the admission record in the chart, I would think she just had a cold and came to the hospital for a checkup.”
“Isn’t that good?”
“It is good. But—”
Dr. Higashi glanced at Haruka, who was lying obediently in bed, then at Ritsu, and lowered his voice a little.
“Mr. Mizugawa, personally speaking… this recovery speed is not normal.”
“What do you mean by not normal?”
“Simply put, as a doctor, I cannot give a reasonable medical explanation.”
His tone was still professional and restrained, but there was a faint, almost invisible wry smile at the corner of his mouth.
“If I had to explain it, then it would be that she has been undergoing high-intensity training as an idol for years, so her physical condition is indeed far superior to her peers, plus young people have strong recovery abilities. The combination of all these factors makes her an exceptional case with an unusually good constitution.”
‘Hey hey hey, even if you lower your voices, do you think I can’t hear you? What’s with this loud conspiracy?’
Haruka internally ranted.
When he said “it could only be said,” his tone carried a helplessness that seemed to say ‘I don’t really believe it myself, but this is the only explanation for now.’
Then the doctor returned to normal volume and began to explain: “In medicine, there are indeed cases of abnormal recovery due to individual differences, but they usually occur in extreme physical trainers, such as professional athletes. Their bodies develop a repair mechanism beyond ordinary people under long-term high load. To put it bluntly, it can only be explained by Miss Hoshino’s ‘good constitution.’ However…”
Dr. Higashi changed his tone.
“I need to emphasize that physical recovery does not equal complete rehabilitation. Especially for head injuries.”
He looked at Haruka.
“Miss Hoshino, what I told you before, you should remember—the repair of the brain is a long and unpredictable process. Your current memory impairment, changes in cognitive patterns, and possible personality-level effects—these cannot be recovered in a month. Some may even be permanent.”
Haruka sat up in bed and nodded seriously.
“I know, Dr. Higashi.”
Her voice was sweet, the tone rising slightly at the end.
“Thank you for taking care of me all this time!”
A standard idol-style thank you.
Polite, appropriate, warm enough to make one feel respected but not overly familiar.
Then she did something unexpected.
“But!”
She suddenly bounced up from the bed, clenched her fists and raised them to her chest, her eyes sparkling—
“The fans have already waited a month! I can’t let everyone wait any longer. Hoshino Haruka on stage can’t be absent for too long, otherwise the members of Stras will get lonely!”
Haruka’s eyes curved into crescent moons, the corners of her mouth raised at just the right angle, her whole face seemed to glow.
Dr. Higashi was taken aback, then smiled wryly and shook his head: “Young people sure have energy…”
Ritsu looked at her, his expression unchanged, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
It seemed like he wanted to smile, but eventually held back, turning into a barely audible “hmph.”
Then he took a sip of coffee, looked out the window, and said in a flat, almost indifferent tone:
“Are you done?”
“I’m done!”
“Then sign your discharge papers. Report to the office tomorrow morning.”
“Eh—I have to go to the office on the day of my discharge…”
“To pick up the stuff you left there. And let the president see that you’re still alive.”
Ritsu turned and walked toward the door of the hospital room.
Before leaving, he glanced sideways at her.
That look was extremely complex—it seemed both like a helpless sigh of ‘I knew you would push yourself like this’ and like he was carefully confirming through that bright smile, ‘Yeah, you’re still you.’
—
The flashback ended.
Haruka was now lying in bed.
The experiences of the past month or so felt like watching a long, yet vivid movie.
During this time, she often wondered if she had been having some absurd dream.
When she woke up, the next day she would still be in her own messy little den, then continue huddling in front of the computer playing games and watching anime.
She recalled the “performance” from yesterday morning before discharge, pulling the blanket up to her nose, revealing only a pair of amber eyes.
Pretty well acted, at least she thought so.
The whole routine—energetic speech, bright smile, acting spoiled with her agent—was about seventy to eighty percent complete.
Above passing mark, below full marks.
But honestly, at that moment, she couldn’t really tell whether she was deliberately putting on a show, or whether it was the instincts of this shell that naturally let Hoshino Haruka’s soul flow out.
The line between “Matsumoto Hidetoshi” and “Hoshino Haruka” was blurring at a visible rate.
This was the fruit of her countless late nights over the past month, lying in the hospital bed, frantically studying the role of “Hoshino Haruka” like preparing for final exams.
She shook her head, not wanting to think about it anymore.
Not because she didn’t want to continue reminiscing, but because drowsiness suddenly surged like a tide.
This body had just been discharged today.
Even though the recovery speed made the doctor question life, a month of bed rest had taken a real toll on her stamina.
Add to that the whole day’s ordeal—discharge procedures, going to the office to pick things up, greeting people, returning to this unfamiliar apartment, practicing smiles in front of the mirror… the mental fatigue was far heavier than the physical.
She closed her eyes and let herself relax, but her thoughts didn’t stop.
Even though she was dead tired and wanted to sleep, some memories she didn’t want to dig up gradually surfaced from the depths of her mind.
They were some of the stupid things she had almost done during the first week of hospitalization.