I am staring at the mirror when I suddenly remember Iwamoto's shy voice. "Can I drop by again sometime?"

A miserable man from his cramped and shabby bathroom stares back.

I suppose my appearance looks better now.

It's been a few weeks since that day, but Iwamoto never really showed up at the hospital again. The bruise on my head has also healed, but why do I feel uglier?

I've never objectively evaluated my own face. But...I guess I have quite a bit of time on my hands now. Hmm, let's take a look. My nose is sharp and high. My lips are thin and poorly colored. My eyes are elongated. My hair is straight black like other Japanese. My skin is pale and the texture all over is fine... Looking carefully, I look somewhat young but I have an incredible overflowing negative aura.

I never think that I am cool. And unfortunately, I also always feel that there's something wrong with me. For some reason, I am depressed realizing this for the first time.

Iwamoto is the complete opposite of me.

He is pretty cool from the start. Besides being good-looking, he's also a very nice guy. His eyebrows are moderately thick and not so dark. His nose is round, his lips are thick, while his cheekbones are slightly exposed―they glow and blush easily. His eyes are so deep, I really like it when he starts crying. The shape of his jaw is good, but some people may think it's a bit rough. Everything about him is just right. His size, strength, and youthfulness he exhales from every pore.

The fact that I can remember his face so well, means that back then Iwamoto was also at a distance where he could see my face clearly. It's embarrassing. I'm embarrassed for showing this unflattering face to him. And there is the fact that I had behaved impolitely the last time we met.

If a doctor tried to kiss you, you would feel terribly uncomfortable.

He is not going to come anymore.

I will never see him again.

For f*ck's sake! Stop it!

It's better if he spends his days in good health, isn't it? There's no reason for me to feel bad, and I'm sick of thinking about him all the time. So what if he's not coming? The fewer patients I have to deal with, the better. Ten women are enough for one day, why would I want one more?

I hurriedly wash my face, brush my hair, and leave. The ill-fitting door makes a loud noise when it is closed. The old lock is rusty and it is difficult to insert it into the keyhole. 

I run down the broken stairs and almost causes me to tumble down horribly. This residence of mine is indeed small and quite old. After joining the obstetrics and gynecology department, I'd been sent to several related hospitals, but for some reason, I was always sent back to the university hospital. Sometimes I slept there too. I traveled a lot and didn't really care where I had to live. That's why I don't want to rent an expensive flat. Well, since I thought living like this wouldn't be troublesome, I renewed my contract here for the past ten years. Maybe eleven. The rent, which was originally cheaper, has fallen even further.

I walk to the parking lot and start the car. There's a field behind the apartment building I live in. Every time it rains, it smells like cow dung. The vent of the room next to mine too, always emits the smell of a cigarette. And oh, my room also feels hot even though the air conditioner is always on full blast every day...

Today I am sad. And because of this sad feeling, it suddenly makes me want to move to a nicer flat. A cozy, spacious, new, and modern apartment. An apartment where I can take a deep breath in the morning sun without smelling like a peasant. 

Only poor students live in a place like this, so close to the university. I am a fairly old gynecologist and have money. Err, a lot of money. A lot of money. My life is just about commuting from work to home every day. A little luxury wouldn't go amiss, right?

An ordinary person may have come to such a conclusion long ago, but this is me. I am lazy and reluctant to do anything that means change. Which is certainly one of the causes of my unattractiveness.

But now, I really want to move.

If I get out of that sh*tty room...maybe I can be a little brighter than I am now. Like Iwamoto.

I have an appointment with a nearby real estate agency after work. Today is fortunately not a busy day so I can leave the hospital without my absence being noticed.

When I told Shimabukuro that I am going to move out, he started to laugh and scoffed in a rather loud voice. In the OB/GYN office, the cramped and decaying condition of my flat is a classic story along with all my complaints about leaks and leaks. How could someone like me suddenly want to change the atmosphere after so long?

Yes, just how?

I feel like I am suddenly desperately running away from a cage of my own making. A custom-made cage... But as Britney Spears says, "My loneliness is killing me".

Okay, I need to change my music tastes too.



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