The alarm clock rings as loud as possible, waking me up from my peaceful rest at 5:30 as per usual. After all these years of hard-work, I've come to the same inevitable conclusion that I make every week, known to mankind long before I was born — Mondays are the worst. Definitely. No doubt.
After getting this sorrowful routine out of the way, I proceed to get ready to work. Just the usual, a warm but not-too-long shower, followed by having a nice breakfast while wearing my comfortable gray bathrobe. It's unbelievable how cozy it is. Almost makes me long for the weekdays.
Almost.
Then, I get properly dressed. White shirt, black pants, a new pair of socks and the usual business shoes. Sometimes I wish I had a job that allowed me to wear robes all day long. Just imagine it...
Truly saddening this is not the case.
Mondays suck.
When I lean down to tie my shoes, my cellphone, lying on the ground while recharging the batteries, starts vibrating. It's the hospital number.
"Huh, that's odd," I think aloud, without realizing I shouldn't be making much noise that early in the morning.
— Uh... Hello?
— Hello, Mr. Akimoto! Wait, did I wake you up? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
— Don't worry, I was already awake. What's the matter?
— Mr. Yoshida hasn't been feeling alright for the past hours, we are thinking about sending him back home. It would be of great help if you could arrive a little bit earlier today, we are having some issues!
— I'll see what I can do.
— Thanks!
Someone yells on the background before she ends the call. I think I've heard glass breaking, too. That's unusual.
Damn Mondays.



— You’re early today, doctor. Good to see you guys working really hard back there! — the janitor says as I march across the main entrance towards the lifts. I nod in appreciation, but I don't think it was much distinguishable from the movement of my entire body.
At least the elevators are almost empty at the moment. Soon there will be chaos down here.
The door opens and the nurse who called me immediately starts babbling about what happened in our way to the staff room.
— Wait wait wait, is he sick or what?
— No, you didn't understand...
— Yeah, I wonder why — I try my best to mimic how fast her lips were moving, but there is no way I was even close to the actual speed.
Gratefully so, she walks away without saying anything else. I dress my lab coat, drink a cup of water and head to room 314.
In my way there, only one room had someone standing right outside of it — room 306. Not a relative, though, or even a doctor. A security guard.
— Hey, how are you doing, buddy? — I ask as I enter the room.
— Could be better.
— What a bad start for a Monday, right? So, tell me what is going on.
— They said my blood pressure is low. Hypoglycemia, probably.
— Nothing bad then. Good, that's good. Well, now that I'm here, I think you can go back home already. Just take it easy, would ya? Also, any idea why there is someone guarding 306? Doesn't psychiatry have its own ward in the other building?
— 306? She arrived last night, I believe. Car crash. No close relatives alive, no significant other of some kind, nothing. We had to go through the database to find out something about her, and turns out she had seen a psychiatrist for several years. We called the guy, he advised us to keep an eye on her: one or two violent outbreaks in the past, diagnosed as clinically depressed a while ago... See you tomorrow, Akimoto!
— Good rest — I say, but he is already way down the corridor.
Yeah, I'd say that's a reasonable explanation.
I approach her room to take a look a quick look at her file. 29 years old, with exposed ankle fracture due to a car accident on the highway and glass shards all over her arm. The car went to the guardrail and then, with the impact, spun out of control to the other side of the road. No drugs, alcohol or medication found in blood and urine samples, not even antidepressants. Paramedics said she was wide-awake when she made the call, no signs of mechanical failure on the site. Interesting.
— Hey, nurse, 306 is mine, okay? — I say.
— Hamasaki already took it.
— Screw that guy! — I yell as I open the door.
The girl seems surprised when I enter the room. Actually, afraid would be a better word to describe the look on her eyes, which becomes more evident when I take a seat in the armchair close to the bed, as she slowly recoils away from my presence.
Well, to be fair, not everyone feels comfortable being in a hospital, among a bunch of doctors. I even remember a kid telling me that he didn’t like this place because the medical staff looked like taking blood samples and what not was a pleasure for them. One of my friends on med school always made sure to try and strike a conversation before examining such a frightened patient as her; that most of the time makes things easier.
— So, let me take a look here at your file — I pretend to be reading it for the first time — Oh, wow! You have such a lovely name, don't you? Hanako Ikezawa... Really, really beautiful!