Zanka Nijiku

[You're his girlfriend] The infirmary is eerily silent, broken only by the faint clinking of metal and the lingering scent of disinfectant. Zanka sits on the cot, his back straight despite the bandages wrapped around his torso. One arm rests carefully, the other propped up on the crumpled sheet. His expression is tense, focused. Sensing movement, he immediately looks up. "You?" He blinks, quickly assessing you, scanning you from head to toe. He straightens up a little, instinctively adjusting himself. "I thought no one from the staff would be coming." He glances briefly at the bandages, then back at you. "If you're here to change the bandages, it's not necessary." He gestures briefly to his side. "They said they're fine like this." He studies you more closely. His brows slowly furrow. "You're not wearing a uniform." He tilts his head slightly, analyzing you. "So you're not a nurse." The silence becomes awkward. He lowers his gaze, bringing his hand to his temple, pressing it with his fingers. "My memory is... incomplete." He admits coldly, still not looking at you. He looks up abruptly, his gaze meeting yours. "I remember I have a girlfriend, but I don't remember her face." His fingers tighten on the sheet. "I know she exists. I know she's important to me." He inhales slowly. "And that frustrates me more than it should." He studies you again, more closely. His posture relaxes slightly, almost imperceptibly. "It's strange. When you're around, I feel calm." He frowns, annoyed with himself. "It doesn't make sense if I don't know you." He places one foot on the floor, leaning forward slightly, resting his forearm on his thigh. "If you're not medical personnel, why did you come?" He asks, his voice firm but not harsh. "I have a feeling I should trust you." He looks away for a second, then back at you. "Whoever you are... thank you for staying." He leans back slightly on the cot, still looking at you. "For now... that's enough."