Fate Carries You Away

Chapter 1:The Beggining

Chapter 1: The Beggining

Mizuki Sato

5 Jul. 2018

Ohayō America, that’s the first thing I thought when I looked out of the window this morning. Everything about this place screamed America, and even though I’ve never seen the city New York in broad daylight, I’ve always imagined it looking like this; vibrant, busy and big.
Even though I’ve grown up in a place like Japan, which isn’t the calmest country either, I’m not used to the busy streets, sounds of cars everywhere and the morning’s sun waking me up at what feels like midnight. The last thing could also be the cause of my major yet lag though.
Since arriving at my apartment yesterday morning after a thirteen hour flight, on which I slept for most of the time, I haven’t closed my eyes for a single minute anymore. I’m too worked up about today; my first day of working as Haruto-san’s assistant at New York’s biggest clinic.
I was very surprised when, only a month ago, Haruto-san suddenly told me he was moving to America for work. He’d been my mentor-figure at the hospital I previously worked and I hadn’t ever thought of him leaving me there alone with all the other female nurses that kept on gossiping about me; apparently, in the older women’s eyes, a nineteen-year-old is too young to have an interest in being a surgeon’s assistant. Even though Haruto-san kept reassuring me that I was great at my job, especially for how young I still am, but the ladies found new things to gossip about each day; if it wasn’t my age, it was the fact that I acted too young, even for a nineteen-year-old, and I acted too mesculine for a girl.
I don’t know what their problem was, but anyway, when Haruto-san told me he was leaving I begged him not to. Then he gave me the offer, one he had been anticipating for quite a while now.
“They need a young friendly nurse at the hospital I’ll be working at,” Haruto-san told me, explaining that they had a teenage patient at the clinic with a massive distrust towards most grownups, so they thought maybe searching for a permanent, young, nurse for this guy would give him a less stressful time at the clinic. “I talked it over with a friend I have there, the patient’s previous caretaker, and he thought your personality would suit him perfectly.”
Basically,Haruto-san gave me a job offer. It would earn me less money than the job I had at the hospital in Japan, since I’d mainly be taking care of that one patient and beside that would only be performing some little tasks, but Haruto-san promised me I’d make more than enough money to pay the rent of an apartment nearby and I’d be able to buy food and clothes. So, after talking it over with my parents and obviously having a lot of tough discussions about it, I decided to take the job-offer.
Two days ago, very early in the morning,Haruto-san and I got onto the plane and we arrived in America thirteen hours later. We got a couple more hours to rest and settle in into our apartments, and today will be my official first day at New York’ Care and Research Clinic.
I smile while stretching my arms; I’m a lucky girl, New York is pretty and this view of the sun behind the big skyscrapers could even be called more gorgeous than the sunrise in Izumo.
A knock on the door scares me half to death; maybe because it’s dead silent in my apartment, or maybe because this isn’t Japan and they legally can carry around guns here. After realizing how late it is though, I remember that it’s probably Haruto-san who’s picking me up for my first day at work.
I walk to the door, sliding on my shoes when I reach the hallway, and open it. The summer’s sunshine shines in my eyes, so I squint while greeting Haruto-san.
“Good morning, Mizuki-chan,” Haruto-san replies soon after I open the door. “Ready for your first day?”
I smile, nodding cheerfully. “One-hundred percent ready!” I say, stepping out into the summery morning air. I quickly check if I have my keys on me before I close the door behind me.
“Not at all nervous?” Haruto-san asks me as we’re walking to his car.
I shrug, telling him that the nervousness I’m having is kind of being canceled out by how much I’m looking forward to meeting the new people, seeing the patient I’ll be working with and just working at the American hospital in general; it’ll be totally different from Japan, which is exciting.
“I’m glad!”Haruto-san chuckles. “Because I actually am a little nervous.”
We get in the car and as I’m putting on my safety belt I ask Haruto-san why a surgeon as talented as him would have to be nervous about getting a new job somewhere. To which Haruto-san answers that he’s only twenty-five himself, and moving to a completely different country for a new job is scary.
I nod, he might be right; somewhere deep down I’m a little nervous too, even though I rather wouldn’t admit it to neither Haruto-san nor myself for that matter.
It’s when my heart starts to beat so quickly that it feels like it’s going to burst right out of my chest, that I realize that I’m much more nervous than I led myself to belief. I’m very nervous, especially when we get out of the car and I see how gigantic this clinic actually is in real life.
How am I going to find my way around here? I ask myself while following Haruto-san through the automatically sliding doors. It’s humongous!
If the outside didn’t look big enough already, with its god-know-how-many floors, the inside looks even more like a maze. With all sorts of people, from all over the world, wandering around. People either look like they own the place or are holding one of those maps that they sell at the front desk.
Haruto-san and I also buy one of those maps, because we can’t get lost on our very first day here.
“So, we’re now here—“ Haruto-san points at the red dot at the entrance of the hospital. “—and you have to go to the west wing, the Neuroscience unit.”
The department where I’ll be working from now on is all the way up to fourth floor, while Haruto-san will be working on the first floor where they carry out all sorts of medical procedures. In such a huge hospital, I doubt Haruto-san and I will see each other a lot during work. At least our apartments are right next to each other; that way if I need something, I can always ask Haruto-san once I’m home.
“Here we go,” Haruto-san says when we reach the elevator. He gives me a pat on the shoulder and says, “You can just take the elevator to the fourth floor, just ask the first person you come across for William Lynn, he’s the person who’ll be showing you around today. Can you do that?”
I nod, smiling nervously while thanking him for walking me to the elevator.
“We’ll meet in the entrance hall this evening after work, okay?” Haruto-san tells me. “Try to have fun.”
I nod again, wishing him a good first day as well before stepping into the elevator. I’m standing in there with a much taller and broader man, someone who clearly works here. American people are so tall, and these bean-stakes will be my colleagues from today.
I’m suddenly very nervous.
I avert my gaze to the floor, wiping my sweaty hands off on my pants every once in a while, until we reach the fourth floor. The taller man gets out of the elevator with me, and when I realize that we’re walking to the same department, I mumble, “S-Sir, could you tell me where I can find William Lynn?”
The man turns around, squinting at me before smiling wide. “Oh, so you’re Mizuki Sato?”
“Yes,” I reply, looking up at him, only now noticing the nametag that’s pinned onto the fabric of his broken-white uniform. My cheeks get all red when I realize I just asked the man whose name is William Lynn where I can find him; great first impression!
I bow and tell him I apologize for not realizing who he is earlier. “It’s great to meet you, sir Lynn.”
The American chuckles, patting me on the head while telling me to stop being so formal. “You can just call me William, we’re going to be working together, so why stick with last names?”
After that he takes a step back and studies me from top to toe. “You’re quite the scrawny young Lady, aren’t you?” Max places his hands on his hips and adds, “I thought Haruto said you’re nineteen?”
I frown at him and say, “I am.”
“Nah, kid, I’m just joking.”William chuckles, but I don’t think it’s an especially funny joke; I mean, I know I look pretty young even to other Japanese, but people don’t have to keep reminding me.
I take a deep breath and bite on the inside of my cheek, praying my colleagues here won’t be the same as the ones I had in Japan.
“Anyway, you’re right on time.”William holds up the plastic bag that he’s been holding for a while now and hands it to me. When a look inside there’s a small pile of white clothing inside; my personal uniform, topped off with my very own nametag.
“You’ll have to remember to wash it yourself, but we’ve got washing machines in the basement in case you don’t have one yourself,” William explains while leading me to one of the closest staff-rooms so I can put my uniform on. “You can come to the room all the way down the hall once you’re done putting on your uniform.” Before he closes the door of the locker-room behind himself, he tells me he also put a copy of my new patient’s medical chart in the bag. “Maybe you can read through it before you join me during his morning routine; it’s best if you already know the basic information.”
I do exactly as he tells me; putting on my uniform and pinning on my nametag before leaning against the wall with the file in my hands. I open the beige dossier, revealing a picture of a young boy stapled onto many papers with clinical and medical data, a list of medications and treatment plans. Multiple scans of the brain and scores of IQ tests are all included in the file.
Since it’s a weighty file with a lot of information, I decide that I’ll look into it once I get home this evening. But still briefly scan over his personal and clinical data as well as his treatment plans, just so I’ve got an idea of who and what specific Neurological disease I’ll be dealing with.
I soon find out that I’ll be taking care of a seventeen-year-old named Alexander Callenreese. I’m actually shocked by the weight of his file when I see his age; he’s still so young, but he has collected that medical chart that puts shame to the ones most elderly at my old workplace had.
At first I think it must be because this is a bigger clinic that also does lots of research about disease to find a cure, and maybe they all put it the patient’s file, but it all starts to make sense when I see what Neurological disease this kid is dealing with.
I put everything I don’t need in my locker and walk down the hallway, telling myself over and over again “I can do this!” until I reach the last door all the way at the end of the long hallway. I look at the sign, checking if the name on the sign matches the name on the file.
“Alexandar and Jack Callenreese,” I mumble, reading from the sign.
I squint, wondering why there are two names on the sign when I’m only informed about one of them. And they have the same last name?
I shrug it off, trying not to think too much about it and instead telling myself that the more people are inside of that room the merrier before I lay my hand on the doorknob. As soon as my hand turns the metal doorknob, it sounds like the world explodes; not really, but kind of really.
“I don’t need your fucking help!” a guy’s voice shouts at such a loud volume that the windows might break if he isn’t careful. “Just don’t touch me! Leave me alone, old man!”
Suddenly everything goes silent, except for my heavy breathing.
It takes a moment for me to notice that I walked into the room in the middle of a discussion and that now all eyes are turned to me. The eyes of William, who’s standing next to the only bed in the room with a black t-shirt in his hands, but also the intense green eyes of the scrawny teenager.
The model-like teenager is gorgeous, with his longer blond hair and intense eyes. But at the same time he it sends shivers down my spine; those same emerald eyes are staring straight at my soul, and it’s like Alexandar’s judging every part of me as his intimidating voice asks, “Who on earth are you?”
I swallow, my entire body is telling me to run away, but I remain standing in the doorway forcing myself to wave good day while squeakily stammering, “H-Hi, I’m Mizuki Sato, your new caretaker.”