This Japanese Monogatari Isn't Lame
Chapter 250 - 201. Electrocardiogram (4000 words)_2

Chapter 250: Chapter 201. Electrocardiogram (4000 words)_2

"Ugh... we’re out of fruit at home."

Lying on the couch, Nakajima Michika had wanted to grab an apple to eat, but her hand found nothing but empty space.

She ruffled her messy hair and sat up from the couch.

If Beichuan Si was about to come home, she wouldn’t dare let him see her in such a slovenly state, but since she was alone, it didn’t matter.

Nakajima Michika stretched languidly and yawned, "Mr. Beichuan and Hui Li have been looking after me, maybe it’s not a bad idea to go buy some things as a token of my gratitude."

She made up her mind, quickly tidied up her messy hair, and then put on a mask and sunglasses before heading out.

"Umm... I remember there’s a shopping street around here." Nakajima Michika yawned again, not forgetting to take out her phone and check the map on it.

She sauntered with a lazy, staggering gait, looking very much like the "unemployed layabout" often portrayed in the media.

Who would have thought that such a listless figure was actually the popular celebrity, Nakajima Michika?

It took about ten minutes to reach the shopping street.

Nakajima Michika casually strolled into a fruit store, picked out some fruit she liked, then stuffed several large bills at the shopkeeper and walked away without waiting for change.

If Beichuan Si saw her behaving like a wasteful big sister, he’d probably be quick to scold her.

She continued in the same manner, buying drinks and some appealing ingredients, carrying them all in her hands as she wobbled back toward home.

"So heavy, so heavy, so heavy, so heavy." Nakajima Michika’s face turned red with the effort, panting heavily at the edge of a traffic light.

"Are you alright?"

A crisp voice called from beside her, prompting Nakajima Michika to involuntarily turn her head to look.

There stood a girl with a short, ear-level haircut, earphones in, who appeared to have just left high school and might be in university or a vocational college.

She was dressed in very simple clothes, not particularly attractive, but there was something about her youthful face that made Nakajima Michika pause.

"Are you okay? Do you need help? You look like you’re struggling."

The girl with the short haircut took off her earphones and asked with concern, a healthy blush coloring her fair cheeks.

"Umm... could you help me?" Nakajima Michika asked in a slightly lowered voice, her hands feeling weak.

She really couldn’t carry the two bags any longer.

The girl with the short haircut smiled lightly, "No problem, I’ll help you carry them for a while, since I’m also heading back this way."

Saying this, she took the bags from Nakajima Michika and began walking forward slowly, step by step.

Nakajima Michika stood there, panting heavily, self-deprecatingly thinking, "Seems like my physical condition isn’t as good as I thought, even with daily exercise."

Just as she was about to catch up to the girl who had almost crossed the zebra crossing, then—

Boom!!!!!

A truck came crashing through.

Something sprayed out.

Like a rag doll, a body twisted and flew several meters, blood trailing on the ground, creating a glaring mark.

In Nakajima Michika’s delicate eyes, the girl with the short haircut twisted grotesquely, warm red blood oozing out from beneath her.

The grocery bag in her hand tore, and the contents spilled out all over the place, becoming unrecognizable.

Her young face, splattered with blood, seemed to still carry a trace of confusion.

"..."

It’s said that no one can predict what will happen in the next second, just like now–

The girl who had just greeted her kindly and offered help was now lying silently on the ground.

The bustling street fell eerily silent; everything around plunged into a deathly stillness.

The truck that caused the accident sped away, leaving behind nothing but destruction.

The sudden turn of events made Nakajima Michika’s eyes widen, her lips under the mask falling agape.

Am I... okay... am I... still alive?

At that moment, Nakajima Michika felt the reality of being alive.

But what followed was a surge of guilt and shame.

The person who helped her had been hit by a car right in front of her, and yet her first thought was of herself?

"Ambulance... right, call an ambulance...!" She scrambled to get her phone out of her bag.

Clatter–

Her frantic actions caused the phone to fall to the ground, she quickly picked it up, about to dial for an ambulance—

Click.

Click.

Click.

That was the sound of pictures being taken.

Nakajima Michika looked up in confusion.

People were milling about; when she realized it, they had spontaneously formed a circle around her and the girl who was barely breathing.

Some were taking photos, some frowned and covered their mouths as they walked away, some chuckled and discussed...

Why aren’t they calling an ambulance? Why aren’t they helping her?

Call an ambulance! Hurry up and help her!

A silent scream in the heart.

Nakajima Michika’s fingers trembled as she dialed for an ambulance.

Please pick up, pick up!

"Hello? Please send an ambulance quickly to XX street in Bunkyo District, near the commercial street, yes, please hurry up!"

After saying these words, she scrambled and trotted over to the girl with the bob haircut, seeing the blurred flesh but still breathing figure, and tears finally began to fall uncontrollably:

"I’m so sorry! I’m really so sorry! Please survive, I beg you, survive."

She took off her mask and sunglasses:

"Can anyone help? She’s still alive! Somebody help!"

"Na, Naka...Nakajima Michika?!"

"What? Shihua!"

"Hurry over and help!"

Noises of tumult spread among the crowd.

They stared in shock at the screaming, crying Nakajima Michika, and finally, someone stepped forward to actively clear the traffic, making way for the ambulance.

"Gah, gah, gah..."

The bob haircut girl made a strenuous noise from her throat as her clear eyes locked onto the pleading Nakajima Michika, who was begging for help around her, until her eyelids slowly closed—

...

Beep—

Beep—

Beep—

The ECG was jumping, with Nakajima Michika also getting into the ambulance and leaving with it.

Watching the ECG that jumped and then smoothed out, she clenched her fists tightly, her heart also seeming to leap with the peaks and troughs on the screen.

A single tick—Nakajima Michika counted silently within her heart.

Two ticks—Nakajima Michika’s palms shook.

The smooth line of varying lengths...

The heart stopped three times...

Against the monotonous, repetitive ticking of the ECG, Nakajima Michika felt only the silent struggle for life.

It was stubbornness from the bob haircut girl.

Though death was slowly approaching...

Nakajima Michika felt like she had lost her soul, as if she was the one undergoing CPR by the doctors.

She bit her teeth hard, not allowing herself to cry out, not letting herself disturb the medical staff trying to save a life.

That pulsating ECG line was a lifeline...

Nakajima Michika thought of many things.

If the girl hadn’t helped her, if she had walked with her to the front, if she could have grabbed her earlier...

The ambulance stopped.

Nakajima Michika followed the doctors into the emergency surgery room.

All the way, she drew many people’s attention.

Nakajima Michika... the national goddess, the queen of the music scene...

"Please come to make the payment, Shihua... cough, Miss Nakajima."

A neatly-dressed nurse looked eagerly at Nakajima Michika, who stood motionless by the surgery room, her heart racing with excitement.

She was a die-hard fan of Nakajima Michika! Who would’ve thought she’d see her idol in the hospital? How could she not be thrilled?

"... Payment... right... payment..." Nakajima Michika turned her head stiffly, muttering as she took out her wallet.

"Um... please go down to the lobby on the first floor, registration has been completed."

"...Okay."

Nakajima Michika followed the nurse downstairs, seeming out of it.

It wasn’t until she reached the first floor that Nakajima Michika realized she didn’t bring her bank card, and she didn’t have enough cash on hand either.

The nurse beside her seemed to be saying ’it’s okay’ or something to that effect, but Nakajima Michika was no longer listening.

She picked up her phone in a daze and dialed Beichuan Si’s number.

"Hello?"

Beichuan Si’s voice was still cool and indifferent.

But to Nakajima Michika’s ears, it had never sounded so reliable.

She couldn’t help but start crying again, weakly calling out to the other end of the phone, "Beichuan... Mr. Beichuan... Help me..."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, seemingly surprised at the sound of her voice.

Then—

"Okay."

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