Arrangements

"It's going to rain. Take care on your way home, everyone."

In front of the Mutual Aid Society's dilapidated gates, the middle-aged man patiently handed out umbrellas and reminded the attendees, "Things have been rather chaotic outside lately. If you don't have the time, don't come by for now... If necessary, you can stay here temporarily. There are still plenty of beds available."

"No, no, Doctor Kamishiro, you already have it hard enough looking after so many patients." The attendees waved their hands and spoke over one another. "We shouldn't cause you any more trouble."

"It's fine. It's only one more bed."

Doctor Kamishiro smiled kindly as he stood in the light rain, watching the elderly and children depart.

After a long while, just as he was about to turn back, he heard a sound in the distance—hurried footsteps.

Stumbling through the mud.

The middle-aged woman cried out hoarsely, her disheveled hair plastered to her face. Her prematurely aged features were filled with terror. "Doctor Kamishiro! Is Doctor Kamishiro here? Please, save him! Save my child!"

She lifted the raincoat fashioned from plastic bags off her body and carefully raised the child in her arms.

The child, perhaps twelve years old, had already lost consciousness from the fever. His flushed face was twisted and stiff, covered in blisters.

His emaciated limbs had already deformed. Blood continuously seeped from beneath large patches of peeling skin, while other areas had been torn open by the journey's friction, mucus oozing from within.

"Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva..." Doctor Kamishiro frowned. "You should have gone to the hospital as soon as he showed symptoms of fever. Why did you come so late?"

"I... I lost my job. I finally found work in Fushimi Ward recently... I only went out for a little while, I was only