The sterile smell of antiseptic and the low hum of life-support machines was a world away from the glowing monitors of the office. Sataru paced the narrow hallway of the hospital’s third floor, his "Serious Mode" completely shattered. His tie was loosened, his hair disheveled, and his hands—usually so steady when typing out complex formulas—were shaking.
He had rushed here the moment the doctor called. A sudden spike in his mother’s blood pressure had sent the staff into a frenzy.
"Sataru-kun!"
He turned, startled, to see Shino running down the hall. She was still wearing her glasses and a casual oversized hoodie she must have thrown over her work clothes. She looked out of breath, clutching a small bag.
"Madsudori-san? What are you doing here?" Sataru asked, his voice cracking. "I... I told you I had to leave. You didn't have to follow me."
"I didn't follow you to be a coworker, Sataru," she said, stepping close enough that he could see the genuine worry in her eyes. "I followed you because you shouldn't be alone right now."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a lukewarm canned coffee and a small, plush charm—a tiny dog with a cape. "Here. You haven't eaten since the melon bread, have you?"
Sataru took the coffee, the warmth of the metal grounding him. "The bill... the doctor said they might need to move her to a specialized wing. The 'pay wall' just got higher, Shino. I don't know if I can work enough hours to cover this."
He slumped into a plastic waiting room chair, covering his face with his hands. "I try to be the serious one. The one who has it all under control. But I'm just... I'm just scared."
Shino didn't say anything at first. She simply sat down in the chair next to him. Not the "Office Idol" Shino, but the girl who spent her nights reading about heroes who suffered in silence.
"You know," she said softly, staring at the flickering fluorescent light above. "In The Rising of the Shield Hero, Naofumi was blamed for everything. He was alone, hated, and had to carry the weight of the whole world on a shield that everyone thought was useless. But he wasn't weak. He was the strongest because he stood his ground for the people he cared about."
She turned to him, a fierce light in her eyes. "You’ve been playing the Shield for your mom and your dad for years, Sataru. But even a Shield Hero needs a party member."
Sataru looked up, a single tear escaping. "A party member?"
Shino nodded firmly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "I already spoke to your dad at the security desk before I left. He’s on his way. And tomorrow, I’m talking to the Director. We’re going to get you that lead position on the new account. Not because of 'logic,' but because you’re the best person for it. I’ll handle the presentations, you handle the data. We’ll break that pay wall together."
Sataru looked at her, truly seeing her. The "Serious Mode" he had cultivated for a decade felt small compared to the courage she was showing him.
"Why?" he whispered. "Why me?"
Shino smiled—a real, Otaku-level grin that made her glasses slide down her nose. "Because ten years ago, a shy boy didn't ask for a reward when he stood in front of three bullies to protect a girl who couldn't see. He just picked up her glasses, handed them back, and walked away."
She reached out and gently touched the pocket of his suit jacket—the one where he kept his wallet. "You still have it, don't you? The blue ribbon?"
Sataru’s heart hammered against his ribs. He slowly pulled out his wallet and extracted the frayed, faded blue ribbon. He had carried it through university, through every job interview, and through every late night at the office.
"I... I never knew it was you," Sataru admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I fell in love with a girl in a costume... and then I fell in love with a coworker. I didn't realize they were the same person."
Shino’s face turned bright red, but she didn't look away. "Well, consider this a 'Critical Hit' to my heart, Sataru-kun. Because I’ve been waiting ten years for that boy to realize I was standing right in front of him."
Before Sataru could respond, the door to the ward opened. His father, Hiroshi, hurried in, his face etched with relief. "Sataru! The doctor just told me—she’s stable. The medicine worked."
Hiroshi stopped, seeing Shino sitting there, her hand inches from Sataru’s. He looked at his son, then at the "Golden Girl" from the office, and a knowing smile touched his tired face.
"I see you’ve got good backup, son," Hiroshi said.
Sataru stood up, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders that he hadn't even realized he was carrying. He looked at Shino, who was blushing furiously while trying to hide her Shield Hero charm.
"Yeah, Dad," Sataru said, his voice finally steady. "I have the best party member in the world."75Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQYhnJtMPDj
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