"Carne asada, habichuelas guisadas, tortas, tostadas, sopita de res, huevos rancheros, horchata, y hay más."

(“Roasted meat, stew beans, sandwiches, tostadas, beef soup, huevos rancheros, horchata, and there’s more.”)

Kenjirou blinked sleepily, aware that several people in the tiny roadside restaurant were judging his bloody khaki pants, stained Doctors coat, and bed-ruffled hair. He had not a single piece of equipment except his wallet and phone which were miraculously found in his pocket but his bag with medical supplies and loose change were gone.

"Huevos rancheros," Kenjirou responded tiredly, ready to pass out on the table. He had gotten a total of two hours of sleep due to the unforgiving heat and paranoia of the early morning. He had been peacefully avoiding the stares and waiting for his food when the news on the surprisingly large television caught his attention.

"¡Hoy en noticias! A las seis y cuatro, la policía encontró cinco muertos en la zona de Durango. Dicen que es culpa del Cartel y aconsejamos que se queden en casa."

("Today in news! At four past six, the police found five dead in the Durango area. They say it's the Cartel's fault and we advise that you stay at home.")

Kenjirou was done with life. He really couldn’t deal with it anymore. Who the fuck told him to move from the comforts of his home back in Japan to a country that spoke a terribly hard language and took him nearly half his studying time to learn the Spanish before being able to ace his studies? Oh, that’s fucking right, his hot-headed being made the decision himself and packed his bags, bade his family farewell, and hopped on the plane right after graduating high school.

But hearing the news made his stomach fall and suddenly wish he were religious. He would pray and ask the Lord to help him out of his sticky situation and hope that whoever he ran into the day prior was not some form of threat to his life. But as he ate his eggs and pitifully got out of his chair in his dishevelled look, Kenjirou wanted nothing more than to scream due to the feeling of constantly being watched.

He felt like pulling his hair out and as he figured his way home with the aid of his phone that was about to die, he still didn’t shake off the feeling yet at every turn and stop, there wasn’t a single person that looked vaguely interested in him besides the elderly abuelas that frowned at his clothing. He could’ve sworn he was hallucinating but the words of the man from early morning rang in his head.

"I'd have to keep an eye on you."

Kenjirou felt his shoulders tense and the second his eyes spotted the front of his door, he made a beeline, rattling the door open as quickly as he could and slamming it closed with his back. He couldn’t move, much too scared as everything closed in around him and the reality of Earth clouded his vision. Who the fuck was that man and why the hell did he have to ruin his life?

He couldn’t even be sure if the man was the reason behind the five deaths, hell what if the man himself was one of the dead? Even worse, what if there were witnesses who linked him to some crime that he had no part in? 

HELL, WHY DID HE HAVE TO HELP A RANDOM MAN BLEEDING ON THE STREET THAT REFUSED HOSPITAL AID?! He couldn’t take it and if his license were suddenly revoked, he swore to fucking god he’d find the man himself and kill him with his bare hands. He swore.

And even when he convinced himself to take a shower and pace his room, he couldn’t relax because the second he stepped foot outside, his life felt invaded. They should’ve made fucking Tsutomu do the emergency surgery. Who cared if he was on vacation? Stupid coconut cut looking bitch. He was pissed and he wished it was Tsutomu getting his life threatened instead of him. The little shit who had tormented him back in his homeland Japan and then proceeded to follow him to Mexico for some cursed reason. 

He didn’t even know how Tsutomu became a Doctor. He didn’t know how he managed to bring his grades up so much nor did he know why he did it but for whatever reason, Kenjirou was ONLY glad for his presence solely for the fact that both of them struggled in a new country and while knowing each other, could struggle together. But even wishing for the downfall of his junior wasn’t enough and so he took a deep breath, hoping to chase away all fears.

He had to work right after lunch and there were approximately forty-five minutes tops where he could squeeze in sleep before needing to wake up and be on his way once more. Thank the heavens it was only four hours before he would leave his shift. It'd be just shy of seven when he'd get home, which was a decent hour to arrive considering people were busy milling the streets at that time of night.

So when he finally did emerge from his shift, Doctor coat still on and covered in germs, Kenjirou wanted nothing more than to rush home and sanitize himself, wrap himself in sheets and sleep like a baby all night long. While everyone was on their way to clubs, Bovinos, Taquerias, malls, and the Cinépolis, Kenjirou was on his way to his house but that rush was suddenly killed the moment he got to his desk to pick up his new bag.

His spine tingled, feet felt cold and for the first time in all his time of working at the hospital, he felt his private office the most dangerous place ever. Shakily, he peeled off the little sticky note from the top of his desk, fancy writing on it reading;

"I promised you. I'll keep an eye on you but this time, it might be for different reasons."

Kenjirou inhaled and all he could conclude with was:

"I'm going to fucking die within the week and it'll be all my fault."

The man covered in scars, the one with those cursed tattoos that were burned to the back of his mind, some of them much too familiar, and some tattoos that seemed to have absolutely no meaning yet he knew held some importance. Kenjirou once again felt his world close in and there he stood, contemplating his next move. He hadn't felt watched during the time he was working but he knew that once he got outside, the paranoia and fear would start again.

So doing what he thought was best, he pulled out his phone and dialled an Uber, instructing them to pick him up at the back entrance of the hospital as he rapidly stuffed his things into his new bag and made a beeline for the emergency back exit. There was no way in heaven or hell that he was going to go out the main exit and risk being shot at. There was no fucking way and even though he could've easily put on a mask, he knew his prominently angled hair was a dead giveaway.

He couldn't even cut it lest he end up looking like Tsutomu! Who the hell told him cutting his own hair in the same way for the past twelve years was a good idea!?

Ignoring the tragedy on his head called hair, he kept his head ducked low and dashed out of the hospital, fully prepared to get shot at any moment but for once, the universe enjoyed his existence and granted him extra hours of breath.

"Buenas Noches-"

(“Good night-”)

"No, no. No es una buena noche,” Kenjirou greeted in exhaustion, a loud sigh exiting from his mouth. “Please just take me home. I can't stay here anymore."

(“No, no. It isn’t a good night.”)

"Rough day?" The driver asked, eyeing Kenjirou through the rearview mirror as he wearily nodded.

"Very rough. Sometimes it's hard being a Doctor," Kenjirou explained, although the hard part of his day had nothing to do with being a Doctor.

The driver nodded slowly, humming as he pretended to understand but really, how could he when he was simply an uber driver?

"I can imagine. My friend got an injury yesterday. A nice Doctor helped him on the streets and fixed him up. Imagine taking your time out of the day after a shift to literally fix someone on the streets? Most wouldn't even say they're a Doctor."

The vehicle suddenly dropped Celcius by hundreds. Kenjirou swore he turned into an ice block and when he glanced into the rearview mirror to ensure he wasn't imagining things, he realized he'd rather die. The man looked at him with a smile, the glint in his eyes way too cheery for a normal human and Kenjirou knew he was in deep fucking shit once he spotted scars along his neck and fist. He had said it happened the day before but inside, he knew full well that he couldn't just casually say it happened at three in the damn morning without making it obvious that he knew something.

Oh hell, he was being taken to get slaughtered. Unless, he could play his way out of it.

"Oh? Really? That must've been a really nice Doctor. Reminds me that a similar thing happened to my friend yesterday and he's a Doctor too. Mayhaps our friends ran into each other?"

The man's eyes seemed to lose the sparkle for a second but he quickly regained himself, nodding along as his fingers tapped the steering wheel.

"It's a small world, after all. It's a very high chance. What's his name? My friend would really like to express his gratitude."

"Tsutomu."

"Doesn't sound like a local name. Foreigner?"

"Yes, he is indeed a foreigner," Kenjirou replied seriously, his back tingling in sweat as he fought off his urge to open the door and throw himself out head first.

"Makes sense. The name’s Joaquín, you?"

Kenjirou faltered for a moment, fighting internally to give himself a name without making it sound as if he didn't know what the hell his own name was.

"Hajime."

"Foreigner as well?"

Kenjirou hummed his agreement, praying the ride would go faster and although he was unsettled as hell, he was delighted when they made it to the end of his street, asking the driver to leave him at the start of his lane, stating he had some business to do with a neighbour before he went home. For all he knew, the strange man knew exactly which house he lived in, but prevented himself from seeming like a creep when he refrained from taking him directly home, although that was part of his job.

Kenjirou let his breath go as he stood under a street light, wearily walking the path home he walked every single day. He was nearly home, only about thirty meters when he noticed he had a message and opened it just in case it was important.

"Hey, I'm waiting outside. -Your Uber."

It had been sent two minutes prior. Two minutes prior he was in the vehicle. Two minutes prior he had been saying his goodbye. Two minutes prior his driver wasn't texting anyone. Kenjirou felt his heart drop and with speed he didn't know he possessed, fucking bolted to his house and just about broke down the door trying to get in.