And that is where I am now, what has to be a solid two hours later. Pen still in hand, with the only box filled out reading “ザンイエル” where his first name should go. Or should I write “ザ二エル”? “ザ二エール”? I don’t even know where to begin with his last name, let alone his age, address, oh gosh, his blood type … No, wait! Yes, I do. I stick my face into the plastic bag on my lap, remembering the smartphone I took with all the other things on that tiny table. The pleather case holds half a dozen cards, and sure enough, one of them is a driver’s licence with a handsome photo on it. Guess I’m not so stupid after all. I grin to myself.

I happily fill out the basics of the form, which are all I can read at this point. Maybe “friend” was a strong word to use. Still, I can’t just up and leave him here. It doesn’t feel right, and I’m certain a doctor or nurse will come around asking questions. So instead of attempting the rest of his medical information, I sit and deal with the stares. After that gets boring, I check my phone. It’s almost four. Dawn will come soon, and then I’ll have to head to Zozo. Maybe I should send someone a quick text about where I am. Yoshino would be the best person for that. Whoa, hang on. I can’t tell her what happened. She’d never believe me. Or she might never stop lecturing me about crawling into an abandoned restaurant like some overzealous tourist. She’ll be so worried. But I’m out of ideas. With a heavy sigh I text her some gibberish about being at Osaka General with someone, and if she could give me a rough play-by-play on how to fill out this freaking form for him it would be great. I throw in a couple of screenshots and send it, praying she wakes up in the next couple of hours to see it.

Dumping the forms and clipboard on my chair, I get a drink from the nearest vending machine. Everyone in the waiting room watches in awe. One elderly man in a wheelchair even lets out a small “Ehhh, sugoi” as I press the button for a C.C. Lemon water and return to my seat. I chug half the bottle, staring back at him the whole time.

“Oishii desu ka?” he asks me.

I nod. “Meccha oishii.”