Hairo found himself paralyzed, floating in a black abyss. He felt oddly blissful.
"What… happened…?"
His memory returned to him in split-second fragments. He remembered Yusuke Sato. Leaving the hospital. Going through the alleyway. Finding, examining, and transporting Shuntaro Nagatsuki to Gekkeiju Primary. The thoracotomy. The white heart.
"He…" Hairo could not speak or move. Only think. "He ripped his heart out. And…"
His eyes drifted down to his paralyzed torso.
"He killed me." He was almost angry.
"I never got a chance to redeem myself— no. Shuntaro Nagatsuki was my chance. And I…"
Tears began to pool at the corners of his eyes, but he was in no physical capacity to wipe them away. In what could very well be the remnants of his brain activity after death, he spent the few seconds regretting his last moments.
"He's dead. Because of me."
Hairo's eyes drifted to the left, and then to the right. Realizing where he was, panic began to set in. He couldn't even blink, lay suspended in space, in an infinitely expanding void.
"Wait– my heart," he thought.
Although he couldn't physically examine himself, he had the strength to pull his eyes downwards to his chest. Where he expected to see a gaping wound was simply a faint white light from his chest, subtly pulsating in and out of brightness.
No wound. No blood. There wasn't even a scar.
"...?"
He looked at his wrist. It wasn't broken either.
Every injury that Nagatsuki inflicted on him miraculously vanished.
Bloom…
From the faint white light that Hairo's chest seemed to exude, several vines started to sprout from it. The tips of these vines blossomed into white lilies, the sight of which brought back his memories entirely.
"That's right," he thought. The flowers grew longer and thicker. "Nagatsuki's heart… It was white… and glowing… He killed the nurses…"
The lilies continued to grow, slowly wrapping around his body.
"And then… he…"
His paralyzed hand trembled, breaking out of stasis. It hovered over his heart.
"He gave his heart…"
The lilies grew to wrap around him in his entirety. His monotonous, almost derisive gray eyes shifted to turquoise in his realization.
"To me."
* * *
Beep… beep…
"...Dr. Kisaragi?"
"..."
"...Dr. Hairo Kisaragi?"
"..."
"Dr. Kisaragi."
"...What."
Hairo's eyes opened, basking at the sight of a new environment. He was in what looked like the executive suite of a hospital room, only there were no windows, and beams of steel lined the edges of the walls. He was in a patient's gown, and his wrist was covered by a thick cast.
He looked to his left, seeing a nightstand that had a vase of white lilies and a glass of water. Just beyond that was a handsome young man with auburn hair and blue eyes. He wore an ensemble of matching luxury to Nagatsuki's expensive-looking suit, only this time it was a navy trench coat over a black turtleneck.
"Good evening."
He looked down to his chest, partially exposed by his baggy gown. Scar tissue over the skin of his heart.
"How long have I been unconscious…?"
"About a week."
"...Where am I?"
"That's not important," he cleared his throat, before reaching into his inner breast pocket. He pulled out a badge that looked just like Nagatsuki's, a premium black leather with the letters "JSPI" embroidered on it in silver, only it had his information on it.
"My name is Shoyu Kosaka," he introduced himself, holding out his badge for Hairo to see. "I'm the Chief Investigator for the JSPI."
"Uhm… okay."
Unfazed by his lackluster response, Shoyu Kosaka slipped the badge back into his pocket. "You were caught up in a high-priority investigation. That nutcase you operated on, Shuntaro Nagatsuki, was one of our agents."
"Wait– wait. JSPI? Agents?"
Shoyu Kosaka sighed, as though he were debating whether or not he should say his next words.
"You really don't know what you got yourself caught up in, huh?" Shoyu cracked an amused half-smile. Hairo couldn't tell if he was annoyed, impressed, or simply entertained.
Shoyu continued. "The Japanese Sector of Paranormal Investigation. It's a top-secret organization that investigates cases related to ghosts and the paranormal and eliminates any threats."
Hairo scoffed. "This is a joke."
"Nope." Shoyu crossed his arms. "I don't blame you for thinking that, though. Around ninety-five percent of the world doesn't realize the world they live in isn't just flesh and blood."
"Let me be level with you."
Hairo fought through his sore muscles and sat upright.
"Listen." Shoyu leaned in, voice low. "I know this is a lot. But you don't have many options. I convinced them to let me talk to you first before they come in."
Hairo's blood ran cold. "Them?"
"The higher-ups of the JSPI."
Hairo's throat dried. "What do they want with me?"
"The higher-ups of the JSPI," Shoyu's expression darkened. "They want to kill you, Hairo."
* * *
Hairo processed the words with a completely blank face. The idea of him being killed should have been absurd. Yet, considering everything…
"Why?"
"Because you picked up and cut open a high-priority missing target." Shoyu's voice was cold and blunt.
Memories clicked into place. The crowd of police on the streets he saw previously. The words he had overheard on his way home. "Find him quickly… he's a high-priority agent!"
"That was for Nagatsuki..." Hairo muttered under his breath.
"I can't disclose too much—clearance issues, and the fact that you have no idea what kind of world you just stepped into…" Shoyu leaned back. "But what I can tell you is that you, a civilian, got involved. More than involved, actually. You're in possession of something that shouldn't exist in human hands."
Hairo knew exactly what he meant. "His heart."
The heart of the very person that killed him is now keeping him alive.
Shoyu leaned back further, throwing his arm back over the headrest and crossing his legs. "It's funny, really. That heart comes once in a few eons if even that. First time it appears in the modern age and something like this happens."
"...I was just following my instincts," Hairo murmured. "He was hurt. I had to help."
Shoyu studied him. "Even though he killed you?"
Hairo didn't answer.
Shoyu smirked. "Interesting."
He reached into his coat and flicked a business card onto Hairo's lap. "You have three choices."
Raising three fingers, he began listing them:
"One, you let the very confused and disgruntled higher-ups dissect you and take that heart back."
Hairo grimaced. Not an option.
"Two, you run. You won't get far. When they catch you, they'll take the heart back."
Equally bad.
"Or three…" Shoyu's voice deepened. "Give up the life you've known as the Miracle Surgeon. Become an agent for the JSPI. If you accept, then you can live. And you'll know everything there is to know about this line of work and what you are now."
"What I am now…?"
"You're not exactly alive, are you?"
"..."
A long stretch of silence was strong between them. Hairo seemed to be at odds with himself internally.
More minutes continued to pass. Both men stood motionless before each other.
"...Not once have I turned down a patient," Hairo looked at the palm of his hand that wasn't broken. "Everyone deserves a chance to live."
He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. "But if I become an agent, then…"
"Then you'll get answers. And you'll survive. And most importantly…"
He leaned in close, almost whispering to Hairo.
"You'll save way more than you do as a doctor."
Hairo exhaled slowly. In front of him was a choice that wasn't a choice at all.
"...Fine."