[ Throughout it all, Hiyori truly is a doctor first and foremost. He stands up, moving to take Komaeda's hand. He's not a particularly muscular man, but he has the toned fit of a person who's used to working with a personal trainer - the sort who works out for their own fitness rather than any desire for gains. He needed to start fitting that into his schedule again. Yet, for now, he takes one hand in each of his own, drawing them apart with that patient smile plastered on his face.
It's just like always. He always done this. It's fine. This isn't how he'd wanted it to go, though, and he should have expected that it would be such as a disaster. His grip tightens, waiting for the inevitable tantrum and the inevitable damage that would be done to his body. It was fine, it was fine, it was just fine because no matter what - ]
It's fine, Komaeda-kun... See? I'm here with you, and I love you, even if no one else does... See? I'm holding your hands right now.
[ He could beg Komaeda not to undo his hard work. He could order him not to, but Hiyori makes no such efforts, because it would mean nothing. Even so, he's tired, and he's frustrated, and this day has been too much, and it's there in the quiver of his voice and his shaking hands; he's beyond his limits, he's falling apart, because in the end Hiyori is not a god but a lowly human. Even so, he laughs softly, as though nothing were wrong, as though moisture wasn't accumulating in his eyes. As though he weren't tired, as though he weren't well past what any person could handle.
He won't ask, not for anything, and so he keeps that gentle and patient smile plastered on his face. But his grip is too tight, and his smile too wide, and he wants nothing more than to crawl back into his bed and not get back up. There's so much to do, though, always to much to do. Once he fixed his body, once he erased his humanity, it wouldn't be a problem. But such blissful days were ever ahead of him, and for now, he has to be aware of the shameful tears dripping down his cheeks because it's all too much. ]
Let's fix you up, hm...? Then we can talk more... Ahaha, I'm apologize, I'm a shameful doctor, aren't I?
[ In the office or otherwise, it was truly shameful for a doctor to be caught having such an emotional reaction in front of his patient. He stems his emotions, taking a breath, fixing his smile. It's not too much; he's fine. Hiyori is always fine, because he's Sou Hiyori. He was once the Ultimate Surgeon, but such things were irrelevant, for he was above even the other Ultimates. He was as a god, and yet, he hadn't yet managed to transcend. Ah, and he still hadn't answered that question that was asked of him, had he?
No, it was fine. It was fine, even if his work was torn up over and over, he could always fix it. That, too, was his duty. That, too, was love. ]
I don't need to use you, Komaeda-kun, because I know you'd shine brilliantly if only if only somebody were to care for you. I love you, so I want to see the bright star that you'll form in my night sky. Now then...
[ His head is cloudy, and he repeats himself, seeming to forget that he's said it once before, ]
Let's fix you up, Komaeda-kun... I'm sure you don't want to go back to my office at this hour, hm? Ah, I'm on call, but... Oh, have you had a solid meal yet? If not, we should fix that while we're at it...
[ It's, fine, and it's fine because he can't show weakness in front of this patient. It's fine because if he's weak and insecure, if he seems as though he might bend and break, it'll only encourage this. So he keeps his smile and voice as steady as he can, and he stems the tear, and by the end he's the patient and loving doctor that he needs to be once more. He's already running through what would be best for caring for him tonight. Belatedly, he thinks that it might not hurt to get a proper meal himself as well. ]
(deleted comment)
it's fine he had coffee and a 15 minute nap, what more could he possibly need
[ It's not like him to lose is composure like this, and it's no doubt the result of his running on fumes. Hiyori is still young himself, and he supposes he has more to learn about maintaining his composure when faced with these sorts of physical impediments and automatic responses. It's his own emotional state that allows him to be pulled closer to Komaeda, that freezes him in place once more as he feels the warmth of the man's tongue trailing along his cheek. He shivers, closing one eye, forcing his trembling hands to stop moving.
His grip loosens as he becomes aware of how tightly he'd been hanging on, and that he was in the process of doing more harm than good. He doesn't need to be tired, he doesn't need to be irritable, although he can't help but be both now. Hiyori pushes both down, distracted now by the soft kisses. he wills his breath to steady, for his mind to come properly back into focus, but the combination of his his mouth and warm breath and that pleading voice is as intoxicating as it ever has been.
He releases his grip on one side so he can bring it up to wipe the other side of his face, surprised to feel the amount of moisture that had accumulated from the frustrated tears that had slipped out. He's stemmed them now, and he wipes his hand off on the side of his shirt before lifting it back up to cup Komaeda's cheek. He really does have a lovely face - pretty features, pale skin, empty eyes that are completely devoid of all hope.
He needs to put on the mask of a doctor taking care of his patient now, and one who has no needs. But ah, they're so close once more, and how unfair is it that Hiyori can only ever be given little tastes of him. How unfair, when all he wants to do is take all of him. He rubs Komaeda's cheek with his thumb. ]
I need to fix your stitches. It's going to be a problem if I don't take care of it right away.
[ Hiyori murmurs those words, sensible and rational, before he leans in to close the gap between them and capture Komaeda's lips with his own once more. ]
[ Hiyori acquiesces readily when prompted, parting his lips slightly in order to deepen the kiss. He lets his hand wander from cheek, running through his hair and gripping it to pull him closer. It's not the first time that they've been so close, but each and every time it happens it becomes harder to pull himself away. No matter how many times they kiss, no matter how many times he's able to touch him, he only wants to do so more. It's never enough. He wants to feel all of him - to truly have all of him - though such a thing is impossible.
He might have pulled away if not for the hand clutching his shirt, if not for those three words - I love you. He wants to hear them over and over again, every day and every night. There's that faint little tug again in the back of his mind, like an itch on the back of his neck, whispering for him to be cautious, but its too quiet and too easily drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his cloudy head. He'll pull away. He has to, because he always does.
But he releases Komaeda's other hand first, hand touching his waist. ]
I love you too, Komaeda-kun...
[ His hand starts to wrap around that fragile back of his, inching around it even as he leans in to let his parted lips meet Komaeda's once more in search of something deeper, more intense. He does all of this, and he might have reached around to the bump hidden behind it, if not for the sudden vibration in his pocket that causes his hand to twitch away. It's only vibrates once, indicating that it was nothing urgent enough to stop what he's doing, just enough for habit to guide his hand back down to his pocket.
What terrible timing... ]
(deleted comment)
I KIND OF AM TOO, THAT'S KIND OF ROUGH, I THINK IT'S BC KOMAEDA RIGGED THE DICE
[ Komaeda pulls him closer, and he pauses. There's a moment, just a span of a few seconds, in which the alarm bells go off clearly in his mind. It's a few seconds too late though, and the knife pierces his back quickly and brutally. It sinks in all the way to the handle with a sickening sound. But surely that won't be heard over piercing scream that escapes Hiyori. The beeper that he'd just taken out of his pocket falls to the floor with a loud clatter as he jerks forward, knocking into and pushing at the boy before him in the process.
Hiyori has a higher pain tolerance than a normal person. It was a part of working with difficult patients, and it was apart of working with ASUNARO. He's been injured on the job several times, and there are scars hidden beneath the clothes that he wears. It's part of why he's determined to replace his human body, having found that the damage would eventually lead to his life ending early. Yet even compared to that, this pain is excruciating. It's a pain that immediately causes tears to stain his face. It's an agony that only grows only unbearable with every little twitch and spasm drawing another sharp cry and gasp from him.
Somewhere in the mess of fractured instinctive reactions and pounding thoughts that scream for him to lash out and to flee and to act and that reminds him how terrified he is of death, for a moment the thought that he should have known better manages to creep through.
But only for a moment. ]
(deleted comment)
HE NEEDS SO MUCH HELP??? HE'S HAVING A BAD TIME RN
[ It's amazing what the human mind latches onto in these situations. He's a heap on the ground, palms slammed against the carpet and watching his own blood drip down his arm. It's everywhere. He can see it sliding down his arm, down his wrist, pooling under his calm. He hears the beeper buzz again, sees Komaeda walking toward it, reaches out instinctively before it's kicked away from him, and just that small movement is enough to draw another sharp cry from him.
Maybe if he didn't work so much, he says, as if Hiyori wouldn't work harder if he survived this. He's trying to assess the damage done to him. It was clever, he'll give Komaeda that; if he hadn't picked such an inconvenient spot, he would have been able to work on himself. He wouldn't be able to do much, of course - with a wound this deep, he would need to undergo surgery in order to repair the damage, but he could at least minimize the blood loss in the interim. Here and now, the most he can do is try to decide whether it's better to try and pull the blade out, and whether or not to start with that.
He reaches into his pocket first, before his fingers are too filthy, feeling around. He hits the side button of his phone, feels the faint vibration as it unlocks. How much blood was he losing? How long would it before he passes out? Would anyone hear him? Of course not. The apartment next to him was empty. The apartment on the other side's resident was just like him - they were never home. So he doesn't waste this time on such idle thoughts.
So, what is he thinking...? Hiyori keeps himself stabilized using one hand, but the one that comes out of his pocket reaches back to try and grip the handle of the knife - ah, it really is an inconvenient spot. ]
Praline-chan... C-call... Call Namida...
[ He chokes out the words through gasping breaths, each one sending a fresh wave of agony through him, fingertips finding the handle now. Call an emergency line? No, this was a far safer option. A sickly sweet voice answers, muffled by the fabric:
"Okay, Hiyori-kun! Calling Namida Michiru!"
It's not the voice of any default phone application. It's too human, too personalized. It was intended to be a companion app for Maple, though he was still finalizing several of the features on it. The two of them could communicate, but it was minimal - it needed to be secure enough that there wouldn't be any interference. ]
... A-and Maple-chan...
[ "Okay, Hiyori-kun."
The second response comes softer, offering no elaboration. It's difficult to say how that order's taken, but he knows the phone is being dialed. Ha... Ha... Wouldn't it be pathetic if he died like this...? ]
(deleted comment)
i mean they did but somebody had to take responsibility for him??? his hands were tied
[ Where exactly had it hit...? Hiyori thinks that he knows. It doesn't seem to have pierced anything vital, but it was a rather unfortunate spot to find a knife sticking out of. He doesn't try to take the phone; the AI would be better suited to speak for him right now, and he doesn't doubt that Namida can piece together the situation from the background noise.
Komaeda isn't wrong, but it's a conscious choice. It's a sacrifice that he has to make. It would hurt no matter what he did, but it would be impossible so long as each slight movement and breath aided the blade in tearing him up. It occurs to him presently that the door to his apartment is locked. Hiyori doesn't trust anyone, and so there was no one who would have access to either apartment, and he's certain that he heard the click of the lock in here as well. How much time would be wasted?
The knife is already dug in as far as the blade can go, and there's another scream as it's pushed deeper in all the same - the handle starting to digging into the pierced flesh now. That hand, which had finally started to reach around the blade, is forced to come back down to catch himself as he jerks forward and slides down to his elbows. He sobs, watching as the tears drip onto the floor and mix with blood.
How long has it been since he cried like this? Has he ever? No, not even once - not when others died, not when he killed them and not when he dealt with their bodies, not when he was in agony from those times in which he miscalculated. He does now, though, and the part of his mind that hasn't quite accepted his situation thinks of how shameful that is. ]
K-Komaeda-kun...
[ Ah, this would be so much easier if he could just stop shaking. It'd be so much easier if he could stop his breaths, if he could give up all those little things that make him a human being. But he isn't, not yet, and he has to figure something out. What would the best way to stem the bleeding here? Would it be better to drag himself out and just pass out? Ah, it's hard to think... ]
You always... Make my job... So difficult...
[ Hiyori reaches his hand back again, fingers shaking now. The longer he waits, the harder it'll be. ]
(deleted comment)
he'd better, i trust him to make sure that his husband only gets the best care
[ That's right. Hiyori is married to his job. It's always been that way, but it was worth it. He has more talent than anyone, more skills, more connections, more and more than any other could achieve. He has already made his mark on the world, and that stain would only grow larger with time and effort. He flinches back when he approached, but in the end he offers no resistance when Komaeda takes his face in his hands. He stares at him, gaze aware despite the first sights of cloudiness from the mix of pain and blood loss, tears dripping down his heedless of his wants.
He's familiar with this kind of love, which is almost a perfect match of his own. It's wrong, though, because Hiyori would never willingly give up his life to another person. There's no cough, but there's a small whimper in resposne to the kiss - his shaking his getting worse, causing further agitation. How long would it be before he passed out from blood loss? How long would he be out of commission due to this? He acquiesces readily when prompted, parting his lips to invite Komaeda in even now, though the combination of pain and fear seem to be enough to keep him from reciprocating properly.
The glow from his phone is gone. Had it been enough? Would he be able to call back if needed? He's would, because he has to. He can see the red staining it now. He reaches his hand up to touch Komaeda, but stops should when he sees how stained that is as well. He lets it hover just briefly instead before taking it back. ]
... Of course not... I could never... Kill somebody... That I love so much....
[ But he reaches back one final time now, managing to grip the handle. His hand remains there for just a moment, squeezing his eyes shut as he braces himself, before crying out as he starts pulling - once, twice, and then it's out. Hiyori's just barely able to bring it back down to the floor before the strength in his limbs gives out from the sheer shock and he collapses more properly.
Just a little shock to the system. Just a little reminder that he's alive. He has to get up. He has to unlock the door for his next guest... Can't keep being such a poor host, after all... Because he doesn't want to die like this. ]
Edited 2021-11-29 19:46 (UTC)
(deleted comment)
ohhh komaeda honey... gold heart for your efforts...
[ Hiyori keeps his fingers wrapped around the knife's handle, but that seems to be the best he's capable of for the moment. He can recognize what's happening, his body is paralyzed by trauma and blood loss, and his mind isn't faring much better. It's poor timing, and perhaps he should have seen if he could just struggle through it, because the blood is flowing out freely without the knife to help staunch it now. He tries to run through a mental checklist of what he needs to do to mitigate the damage. As an employee of ASUNARO, he had access to the newest and most expensive products and kept them on his person. It wouldn't cure him, the damage was too extensive, but it might buy time.
He runs through the list of what he needs to do, of what would need to be done, of how long it might take him to recover... He's vaguely aware of the fact that his head is on Komaeda's lap. Ah, how nice, he really had wanted to do that when he'd asked before, to feel fingers running through his hair, but ah, that's too depressing to think of now. He still has so much to do, he can't act as though this is good enough. Does that qualify as hope, or is it doing his job? It doesn't matter.
He manages to twitch a little (or maybe not, maybe he's just mistaking his shivering for a movement,) but not much more. His breath is shallow, but he's managing to stay conscious. That's a start. He considers the conversation being had... Ah, perhaps Namida hadn't gotten his message after all. Such shame, her talent was one of two that matched his... Ah, then again, she did live pretty far away, didn't she? He should have called Harai, she was closer. He thinks that he should take out his e-Handbook. He'd kept it as a parting gift, kept it functional for all these years, just in case he needed it. Idle, worthless thoughts just to keep himself focused. ]
Komaeda-kun...
[ He says the name slowly, almost slurring it, just to confirm that he can still do so.
It really has been a long day. ]
Edited 2021-11-29 22:08 (UTC)
(deleted comment)
it's a really scribbly gold heart but it's there kind of
[ Well, he's not planning on dying, but he doesn't think it would be a bad parting note if it was. Even so, Hiyori is slowing down. His back burns where the knife was, though it's still less painful than having his inside torn up.
But he has enough awareness left to disapprove of the scream on the other side of the phone. It was their job to keep calm in the face of emergencies such as this because families and friends couldn't. How a person like that could be the best of their field is a mystery to him. They were never terribly discerning, but if he's willing to be more fair he might admit that it could simply be the curse of youth. Somebody of that age wouldn't yet be numb... But then, he'd made his own condition that much worse by now. But at least he can think now.
He starts the slow process of trying to force his wobbling limbs. ]
Medical kit... Please...
[ He manages to push himself up onto his elbows, an experimental movement that leaves him feeling woozy. That was just too bad though, he would need to push through it. ]
Edited 2021-11-29 23:10 (UTC)
(deleted comment)
he'll thank him for giving him the motivation he needs to go full scorched earth it's true
[ Hiyori can only stare up when Komaeda takes his chin. His pupils are dilated, and he's aware of his own rapidly deteriorating condition. It's his own carelessness that landed him here, and he wishes he had a greater capacity to feel disgust at the absolute loss of control - at being so completely at the mercy of another. As it is, all that's left for him is fear, and even that is making an effort to dim itself.
He pushes himself up a little more as Komaeda moves, managing to slide one knee under himself. ]
It's... It's from... My school days...
[ Does he need to specify which years? He doesn't think that Komaeda is that slow. It's in pristine condition even now, but he rarely had the opportunity to pull it out these days. But it remains fully stocked and ready to pull out at any time, stocked with tools and essentials, and salves and other items that were more expensive than any normal person could afford. The latter had been added in later, but they were handy. Though to shed the last vestiges of that place, perhaps he should let it be tossed in the garbage where it belongs.
Of course, he could dump all the contents, but it would have the same effect. He'd put it together with Nadami, and so it was guaranteed to be perfection. There was one more item carefully hidden in there as well, but he's not sure if he wants to mention it. He thinks on that as he manages to drag the other knee under himself. He isn't able to stand in the end, but wobbly arms are able to at least hold him up as he manages to turn to the side and slide himself into a sitting position after an impossibly slow process that ends in a sharp gasp, and he can feel himself on the brim of tears all over.
His speech remains slow, words coming between shallow breaths, and he wonders how much longer before he loses consciousness. ]
... Let me see it....
[ Ah, well, that's just his luck today. It's not as though he needs the proof. ]
(deleted comment)
just pump him full of blood and drugs and ivs he'll be fine
[ He only offers a small sigh in response to the question. There were too many things that he needed now to handle it himself, but he's not quite ready to bring up the amount of blood lost. The evidence was around them. It was on Komaeda too. Instead he pops the lid open. The kit is neatly organized, and one can see that some items are older just by the way they've faded - letters have rubbed off packaging and there's one or two things that show signs of wear. He ignores that for not, taking out a few items of interest before considering the best way to get to the item at the bottom.
He settles for sliding his hand in, letting things clatter together as he tips up the false bottom. He feels dizzy, and even this is an insurmountable effort, and the sound of items clattering as they tip over inside and tip out of the case makes him want to scream for an entirely different reason. But he'd heard the conversation from before, and so he procures what should be a familiar item to Komaeda - after all, every student had one. He fiddles with it for a moment, trying to avoid smearing more blood on it than necessary, before holding it out.
Komaeda seems to have readily accepted it by now, but he had nonetheless offered to show his old student ID before. It was undeniable proof of his time spent there, perfectly preserved even after all this time. He'd taken such care to ensure that they wouldn't get it back after he was done with it. He'd kept it all together and added to it and shoved it in a cabinet where he so rarely had to even think about it. ]
I love you, Komaeda-kun.
[ Him and him alone, even now. ]
(deleted comment)
it's so insane but you know what sometimes u just gotta get forced to take a vacation
[ They say that seeing is believing. Hiyori wonders if that might be what's unfolding before him. Even if it's not, he doesn't doubt the significance that the card would hold to Komaeda. It was undeniable proof of the Ultimate Surgeon, who had otherwise been erased from the school's memory, who they had yet to find another worthy of taking the title of. It was the final proof of the good and bad days that he had spent there... It was true, he had been a different person then. It wouldn't be wrong to call those his hopeful years, dotted with despair, and the turning point in his life despite all its flaws.
Is it alright to let him take it and risk losing it, when it was his only concrete proof of his own existence? If it was lost to time, then he would truly lose his identity. Perhaps that was fine, if his hopes were misplaced here then it would be what he deserved. Hiyori leans forward. His vision is starting to blur now. He might topple over at any moment.
It'll be fine. He'll survive this, and he'll watch for a little while longer before he makes his choice. But he will make one... He wonders if Komaeda would be happy to hear that? Just a little shock to the system, just dozens of reminders, just a look into the person that he used to be. The doorbell rings and shakes him out o fhis fractured thoughts, and he can only look on as Komaeda goes to the door. The Ultimate Nurse, was it...? Well, he can guide her if needed... Ah, how would she react? He's sure it'll be a funny face, just as Namida would... He'll have to try and stay conscious for that, at least.
They can talk later. ]
(deleted comment)
his vacation is just going to be sleeping on the couch but that's okay that's what he needs
[ It's not what he was expecting, but it's an equally entertaining result. If he's bothered by it in any sense of the word, it doesn't show on his face. If anything, there's a faint look of disappointment. These are the types of people they replaced himself and Namida with, hm? How embarrassing for them. But the ruckus does give him enough sense of mind to check his phone... Had she ever gotten back to him? He coughs. ]
Ah... Careful now, you can't embarrass yourself in front of your patients like that. They'll think you're going to be equally clumsy with their care, and it'll make it hard to build up trust.
[ It comes out slowly, with a hint of pain, but it's clinical all the same. It's the voice of a person who is used to such acts. He's dealt with women like this before, and coworkers of both genders who played games while on the job... Well, unless it was a genuine accident. He doubts it though, no more than when somebody would "accidentally" fall against him, or "accidentally" have their skirt up their ass, or any of the other little "accidents."
But he means well, of course; he's older than her, and has been in the field longer, so those little tidbits were necessary guidance. He'd gotten the same advice himself. You couldn't be clumsy, nor cry, nor embarrass yourself in front of those you were treating. He sets the phone down and takes up a bottle of salve himself to make his point, unscrewing the cap on it before hearing the door open again moments later, followed by a quick set of steps that stop abruptly in a door where a green haired woman stands.
She takes in the scene quickly, pushing her glasses up - from Hiyori bleeding out on the floor, to a teenage boy covered in blood, to a girl with her legs spread, and she's not quite sure which point to start with... But seeing as only one of them is bleeding out, and only one of them is her coworker, she decides to start by walking over and kneel down beside him, immediately yanking that medical kit from him and that salve out of his hands. ]
H-Hiyori-kun!? Wh-what happened!? Who are these two? What are they doing here!? N-n-no, nevermind, that's not important...! Wh-why didn't you call 119?
[ Ah, this was the other consequence of embarrassing yourself in front of your patient... Somebody else would inevitably steal your limelight... Ah, see, getting screamed at for not going to a hospital, he feels safer already. She must not have heard all the background noise, otherwise she no doubt would have ages ago. ]
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so it's settled, they'll get the fanciest and most expensive chinese take out in town
[ Throughout it all, Hiyori truly is a doctor first and foremost. He stands up, moving to take Komaeda's hand. He's not a particularly muscular man, but he has the toned fit of a person who's used to working with a personal trainer - the sort who works out for their own fitness rather than any desire for gains. He needed to start fitting that into his schedule again. Yet, for now, he takes one hand in each of his own, drawing them apart with that patient smile plastered on his face.
It's just like always. He always done this. It's fine. This isn't how he'd wanted it to go, though, and he should have expected that it would be such as a disaster. His grip tightens, waiting for the inevitable tantrum and the inevitable damage that would be done to his body. It was fine, it was fine, it was just fine because no matter what - ]
It's fine, Komaeda-kun... See? I'm here with you, and I love you, even if no one else does... See? I'm holding your hands right now.
[ He could beg Komaeda not to undo his hard work. He could order him not to, but Hiyori makes no such efforts, because it would mean nothing. Even so, he's tired, and he's frustrated, and this day has been too much, and it's there in the quiver of his voice and his shaking hands; he's beyond his limits, he's falling apart, because in the end Hiyori is not a god but a lowly human. Even so, he laughs softly, as though nothing were wrong, as though moisture wasn't accumulating in his eyes. As though he weren't tired, as though he weren't well past what any person could handle.
He won't ask, not for anything, and so he keeps that gentle and patient smile plastered on his face. But his grip is too tight, and his smile too wide, and he wants nothing more than to crawl back into his bed and not get back up. There's so much to do, though, always to much to do. Once he fixed his body, once he erased his humanity, it wouldn't be a problem. But such blissful days were ever ahead of him, and for now, he has to be aware of the shameful tears dripping down his cheeks because it's all too much. ]
Let's fix you up, hm...? Then we can talk more... Ahaha, I'm apologize, I'm a shameful doctor, aren't I?
[ In the office or otherwise, it was truly shameful for a doctor to be caught having such an emotional reaction in front of his patient. He stems his emotions, taking a breath, fixing his smile. It's not too much; he's fine. Hiyori is always fine, because he's Sou Hiyori. He was once the Ultimate Surgeon, but such things were irrelevant, for he was above even the other Ultimates. He was as a god, and yet, he hadn't yet managed to transcend. Ah, and he still hadn't answered that question that was asked of him, had he?
No, it was fine. It was fine, even if his work was torn up over and over, he could always fix it. That, too, was his duty. That, too, was love. ]
I don't need to use you, Komaeda-kun, because I know you'd shine brilliantly if only if only somebody were to care for you. I love you, so I want to see the bright star that you'll form in my night sky. Now then...
[ His head is cloudy, and he repeats himself, seeming to forget that he's said it once before, ]
Let's fix you up, Komaeda-kun... I'm sure you don't want to go back to my office at this hour, hm? Ah, I'm on call, but... Oh, have you had a solid meal yet? If not, we should fix that while we're at it...
[ It's, fine, and it's fine because he can't show weakness in front of this patient. It's fine because if he's weak and insecure, if he seems as though he might bend and break, it'll only encourage this. So he keeps his smile and voice as steady as he can, and he stems the tear, and by the end he's the patient and loving doctor that he needs to be once more. He's already running through what would be best for caring for him tonight. Belatedly, he thinks that it might not hurt to get a proper meal himself as well. ]
it's fine he had coffee and a 15 minute nap, what more could he possibly need
His grip loosens as he becomes aware of how tightly he'd been hanging on, and that he was in the process of doing more harm than good. He doesn't need to be tired, he doesn't need to be irritable, although he can't help but be both now. Hiyori pushes both down, distracted now by the soft kisses. he wills his breath to steady, for his mind to come properly back into focus, but the combination of his his mouth and warm breath and that pleading voice is as intoxicating as it ever has been.
He releases his grip on one side so he can bring it up to wipe the other side of his face, surprised to feel the amount of moisture that had accumulated from the frustrated tears that had slipped out. He's stemmed them now, and he wipes his hand off on the side of his shirt before lifting it back up to cup Komaeda's cheek. He really does have a lovely face - pretty features, pale skin, empty eyes that are completely devoid of all hope.
He needs to put on the mask of a doctor taking care of his patient now, and one who has no needs. But ah, they're so close once more, and how unfair is it that Hiyori can only ever be given little tastes of him. How unfair, when all he wants to do is take all of him. He rubs Komaeda's cheek with his thumb. ]
I need to fix your stitches. It's going to be a problem if I don't take care of it right away.
[ Hiyori murmurs those words, sensible and rational, before he leans in to close the gap between them and capture Komaeda's lips with his own once more. ]
IT'S FINE I'M SURE HE'LL GET PLENTY OF BOTH SOON
He might have pulled away if not for the hand clutching his shirt, if not for those three words - I love you. He wants to hear them over and over again, every day and every night. There's that faint little tug again in the back of his mind, like an itch on the back of his neck, whispering for him to be cautious, but its too quiet and too easily drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his cloudy head. He'll pull away. He has to, because he always does.
But he releases Komaeda's other hand first, hand touching his waist. ]
I love you too, Komaeda-kun...
[ His hand starts to wrap around that fragile back of his, inching around it even as he leans in to let his parted lips meet Komaeda's once more in search of something deeper, more intense. He does all of this, and he might have reached around to the bump hidden behind it, if not for the sudden vibration in his pocket that causes his hand to twitch away. It's only vibrates once, indicating that it was nothing urgent enough to stop what he's doing, just enough for habit to guide his hand back down to his pocket.
What terrible timing... ]
I KIND OF AM TOO, THAT'S KIND OF ROUGH, I THINK IT'S BC KOMAEDA RIGGED THE DICE
Hiyori has a higher pain tolerance than a normal person. It was a part of working with difficult patients, and it was apart of working with ASUNARO. He's been injured on the job several times, and there are scars hidden beneath the clothes that he wears. It's part of why he's determined to replace his human body, having found that the damage would eventually lead to his life ending early. Yet even compared to that, this pain is excruciating. It's a pain that immediately causes tears to stain his face. It's an agony that only grows only unbearable with every little twitch and spasm drawing another sharp cry and gasp from him.
Somewhere in the mess of fractured instinctive reactions and pounding thoughts that scream for him to lash out and to flee and to act and that reminds him how terrified he is of death, for a moment the thought that he should have known better manages to creep through.
But only for a moment. ]
HE NEEDS SO MUCH HELP??? HE'S HAVING A BAD TIME RN
Maybe if he didn't work so much, he says, as if Hiyori wouldn't work harder if he survived this. He's trying to assess the damage done to him. It was clever, he'll give Komaeda that; if he hadn't picked such an inconvenient spot, he would have been able to work on himself. He wouldn't be able to do much, of course - with a wound this deep, he would need to undergo surgery in order to repair the damage, but he could at least minimize the blood loss in the interim. Here and now, the most he can do is try to decide whether it's better to try and pull the blade out, and whether or not to start with that.
He reaches into his pocket first, before his fingers are too filthy, feeling around. He hits the side button of his phone, feels the faint vibration as it unlocks. How much blood was he losing? How long would it before he passes out? Would anyone hear him? Of course not. The apartment next to him was empty. The apartment on the other side's resident was just like him - they were never home. So he doesn't waste this time on such idle thoughts.
So, what is he thinking...? Hiyori keeps himself stabilized using one hand, but the one that comes out of his pocket reaches back to try and grip the handle of the knife - ah, it really is an inconvenient spot. ]
Praline-chan... C-call... Call Namida...
[ He chokes out the words through gasping breaths, each one sending a fresh wave of agony through him, fingertips finding the handle now. Call an emergency line? No, this was a far safer option. A sickly sweet voice answers, muffled by the fabric:
"Okay, Hiyori-kun! Calling Namida Michiru!"
It's not the voice of any default phone application. It's too human, too personalized. It was intended to be a companion app for Maple, though he was still finalizing several of the features on it. The two of them could communicate, but it was minimal - it needed to be secure enough that there wouldn't be any interference. ]
... A-and Maple-chan...
[ "Okay, Hiyori-kun."
The second response comes softer, offering no elaboration. It's difficult to say how that order's taken, but he knows the phone is being dialed. Ha... Ha... Wouldn't it be pathetic if he died like this...? ]
i mean they did but somebody had to take responsibility for him??? his hands were tied
Komaeda isn't wrong, but it's a conscious choice. It's a sacrifice that he has to make. It would hurt no matter what he did, but it would be impossible so long as each slight movement and breath aided the blade in tearing him up. It occurs to him presently that the door to his apartment is locked. Hiyori doesn't trust anyone, and so there was no one who would have access to either apartment, and he's certain that he heard the click of the lock in here as well. How much time would be wasted?
The knife is already dug in as far as the blade can go, and there's another scream as it's pushed deeper in all the same - the handle starting to digging into the pierced flesh now. That hand, which had finally started to reach around the blade, is forced to come back down to catch himself as he jerks forward and slides down to his elbows. He sobs, watching as the tears drip onto the floor and mix with blood.
How long has it been since he cried like this? Has he ever? No, not even once - not when others died, not when he killed them and not when he dealt with their bodies, not when he was in agony from those times in which he miscalculated. He does now, though, and the part of his mind that hasn't quite accepted his situation thinks of how shameful that is. ]
K-Komaeda-kun...
[ Ah, this would be so much easier if he could just stop shaking. It'd be so much easier if he could stop his breaths, if he could give up all those little things that make him a human being. But he isn't, not yet, and he has to figure something out. What would the best way to stem the bleeding here? Would it be better to drag himself out and just pass out? Ah, it's hard to think... ]
You always... Make my job... So difficult...
[ Hiyori reaches his hand back again, fingers shaking now. The longer he waits, the harder it'll be. ]
he'd better, i trust him to make sure that his husband only gets the best care
He's familiar with this kind of love, which is almost a perfect match of his own. It's wrong, though, because Hiyori would never willingly give up his life to another person. There's no cough, but there's a small whimper in resposne to the kiss - his shaking his getting worse, causing further agitation. How long would it be before he passed out from blood loss? How long would he be out of commission due to this? He acquiesces readily when prompted, parting his lips to invite Komaeda in even now, though the combination of pain and fear seem to be enough to keep him from reciprocating properly.
The glow from his phone is gone. Had it been enough? Would he be able to call back if needed? He's would, because he has to. He can see the red staining it now. He reaches his hand up to touch Komaeda, but stops should when he sees how stained that is as well. He lets it hover just briefly instead before taking it back. ]
... Of course not... I could never... Kill somebody... That I love so much....
[ But he reaches back one final time now, managing to grip the handle. His hand remains there for just a moment, squeezing his eyes shut as he braces himself, before crying out as he starts pulling - once, twice, and then it's out. Hiyori's just barely able to bring it back down to the floor before the strength in his limbs gives out from the sheer shock and he collapses more properly.
Just a little shock to the system. Just a little reminder that he's alive. He has to get up. He has to unlock the door for his next guest... Can't keep being such a poor host, after all... Because he doesn't want to die like this. ]
ohhh komaeda honey... gold heart for your efforts...
He runs through the list of what he needs to do, of what would need to be done, of how long it might take him to recover... He's vaguely aware of the fact that his head is on Komaeda's lap. Ah, how nice, he really had wanted to do that when he'd asked before, to feel fingers running through his hair, but ah, that's too depressing to think of now. He still has so much to do, he can't act as though this is good enough. Does that qualify as hope, or is it doing his job? It doesn't matter.
He manages to twitch a little (or maybe not, maybe he's just mistaking his shivering for a movement,) but not much more. His breath is shallow, but he's managing to stay conscious. That's a start. He considers the conversation being had... Ah, perhaps Namida hadn't gotten his message after all. Such shame, her talent was one of two that matched his... Ah, then again, she did live pretty far away, didn't she? He should have called Harai, she was closer. He thinks that he should take out his e-Handbook. He'd kept it as a parting gift, kept it functional for all these years, just in case he needed it. Idle, worthless thoughts just to keep himself focused. ]
Komaeda-kun...
[ He says the name slowly, almost slurring it, just to confirm that he can still do so.
It really has been a long day. ]
it's a really scribbly gold heart but it's there kind of
But he has enough awareness left to disapprove of the scream on the other side of the phone. It was their job to keep calm in the face of emergencies such as this because families and friends couldn't. How a person like that could be the best of their field is a mystery to him. They were never terribly discerning, but if he's willing to be more fair he might admit that it could simply be the curse of youth. Somebody of that age wouldn't yet be numb... But then, he'd made his own condition that much worse by now. But at least he can think now.
He starts the slow process of trying to force his wobbling limbs. ]
Medical kit... Please...
[ He manages to push himself up onto his elbows, an experimental movement that leaves him feeling woozy. That was just too bad though, he would need to push through it. ]
he'll thank him for giving him the motivation he needs to go full scorched earth it's true
He pushes himself up a little more as Komaeda moves, managing to slide one knee under himself. ]
It's... It's from... My school days...
[ Does he need to specify which years? He doesn't think that Komaeda is that slow. It's in pristine condition even now, but he rarely had the opportunity to pull it out these days. But it remains fully stocked and ready to pull out at any time, stocked with tools and essentials, and salves and other items that were more expensive than any normal person could afford. The latter had been added in later, but they were handy. Though to shed the last vestiges of that place, perhaps he should let it be tossed in the garbage where it belongs.
Of course, he could dump all the contents, but it would have the same effect. He'd put it together with Nadami, and so it was guaranteed to be perfection. There was one more item carefully hidden in there as well, but he's not sure if he wants to mention it. He thinks on that as he manages to drag the other knee under himself. He isn't able to stand in the end, but wobbly arms are able to at least hold him up as he manages to turn to the side and slide himself into a sitting position after an impossibly slow process that ends in a sharp gasp, and he can feel himself on the brim of tears all over.
His speech remains slow, words coming between shallow breaths, and he wonders how much longer before he loses consciousness. ]
... Let me see it....
[ Ah, well, that's just his luck today. It's not as though he needs the proof. ]
just pump him full of blood and drugs and ivs he'll be fine
He settles for sliding his hand in, letting things clatter together as he tips up the false bottom. He feels dizzy, and even this is an insurmountable effort, and the sound of items clattering as they tip over inside and tip out of the case makes him want to scream for an entirely different reason. But he'd heard the conversation from before, and so he procures what should be a familiar item to Komaeda - after all, every student had one. He fiddles with it for a moment, trying to avoid smearing more blood on it than necessary, before holding it out.
Komaeda seems to have readily accepted it by now, but he had nonetheless offered to show his old student ID before. It was undeniable proof of his time spent there, perfectly preserved even after all this time. He'd taken such care to ensure that they wouldn't get it back after he was done with it. He'd kept it all together and added to it and shoved it in a cabinet where he so rarely had to even think about it. ]
I love you, Komaeda-kun.
[ Him and him alone, even now. ]
it's so insane but you know what sometimes u just gotta get forced to take a vacation
Is it alright to let him take it and risk losing it, when it was his only concrete proof of his own existence? If it was lost to time, then he would truly lose his identity. Perhaps that was fine, if his hopes were misplaced here then it would be what he deserved. Hiyori leans forward. His vision is starting to blur now. He might topple over at any moment.
It'll be fine. He'll survive this, and he'll watch for a little while longer before he makes his choice. But he will make one... He wonders if Komaeda would be happy to hear that? Just a little shock to the system, just dozens of reminders, just a look into the person that he used to be. The doorbell rings and shakes him out o fhis fractured thoughts, and he can only look on as Komaeda goes to the door. The Ultimate Nurse, was it...? Well, he can guide her if needed... Ah, how would she react? He's sure it'll be a funny face, just as Namida would... He'll have to try and stay conscious for that, at least.
They can talk later. ]
his vacation is just going to be sleeping on the couch but that's okay that's what he needs
Ah... Careful now, you can't embarrass yourself in front of your patients like that. They'll think you're going to be equally clumsy with their care, and it'll make it hard to build up trust.
[ It comes out slowly, with a hint of pain, but it's clinical all the same. It's the voice of a person who is used to such acts. He's dealt with women like this before, and coworkers of both genders who played games while on the job... Well, unless it was a genuine accident. He doubts it though, no more than when somebody would "accidentally" fall against him, or "accidentally" have their skirt up their ass, or any of the other little "accidents."
But he means well, of course; he's older than her, and has been in the field longer, so those little tidbits were necessary guidance. He'd gotten the same advice himself. You couldn't be clumsy, nor cry, nor embarrass yourself in front of those you were treating. He sets the phone down and takes up a bottle of salve himself to make his point, unscrewing the cap on it before hearing the door open again moments later, followed by a quick set of steps that stop abruptly in a door where a green haired woman stands.
She takes in the scene quickly, pushing her glasses up - from Hiyori bleeding out on the floor, to a teenage boy covered in blood, to a girl with her legs spread, and she's not quite sure which point to start with... But seeing as only one of them is bleeding out, and only one of them is her coworker, she decides to start by walking over and kneel down beside him, immediately yanking that medical kit from him and that salve out of his hands. ]
H-Hiyori-kun!? Wh-what happened!? Who are these two? What are they doing here!? N-n-no, nevermind, that's not important...! Wh-why didn't you call 119?
[ Ah, this was the other consequence of embarrassing yourself in front of your patient... Somebody else would inevitably steal your limelight... Ah, see, getting screamed at for not going to a hospital, he feels safer already. She must not have heard all the background noise, otherwise she no doubt would have ages ago. ]
he really did... are we sure that komaeda's actual goal here wasn't just to force him to use his pto
he's taken like one day off so probably a lot
he's going to have soooooo much work to do when he gets back i'm crying
he's great at both his jobs, that's why they keep him around, and also his patients love him
NOOO HE'S NOT LOSING ANY PATIENTS... PERMANENTLY...