[ The carpet is brand new, in fact. Hiyori takes a step to the side to avoid getting sick, gingerly patting Komaeda's back. He's burning up. ]
Are you sure? There's a bottle in the trash... Ah, you poor thing, you're burning up.
[ He's dialing the emergency line now, thumb hovering over the dial button. It's the responsible decision, he supposes. He's well equipped here, and he could do at home treatments, but it occurs to him presently that such an ill patient would have additional needs. He was sickly enough that even the flu was a threat.
It's a shame. He'd rather not send him to the hospital more than necessary. That, too, feels like failure. But then, why was Komaeda even here? ]
Is there anything else? Any substances? Please, tell me anything that you can.
(deleted comment)
i know why is he picking now to try to be responsible wtf
[ The phone doesn't break, but the call is lost. He picks it up off the floor, letting out a little sigh as he tucks it back into his pocket. Komaeda doesn't strike him as the type for substance abuse, but he has marks around his neck and on his arm, and so a death by overdose or some other substance wouldn't be out of line with his expectations more generally.
He steps over to the other side of the bed, crouching down next to him. A couple of pillows and the blanket had all gone with him, leaving a bit of a mess on the floor. He reaches out to touch him, trying to see what else he can gather. ]
[ He murmurs, but Hiyori brings his free hand up to stroke his hair. What had triggered this? He's not certain. Komaeda has episodes, but there was always some trigger. It's been close to a month since he entered the hospital, and so there was no reason for him to do so now.
He frowns at the feeling of swollen flesh beneath his fingers. Was it an infection then? He takes his and away from Komaeda's waist, lifting his shirt up to try and assess the remainder of the damage. He doesn't want to encourage this behavior by giving too much of a response, but nor can he just ignore it. ]
There's no need for you to hurt anymore, Komaeda-kun. I'm right here, see? You can talk to me. I can't treat your condition here, so we'll need to take you to the hospital... But I'll take care of you as best I can, and I'll stay with you.
[ He glances back to the marks on the other's neck. ]
Did you do anything else, Komaeda-kun?
(deleted comment)
LOOK HE JUST WANTS THE SEX TBH IT IS USELESS I HATE HIM
[ Hiyori strokes his hair, shushing him. He hadn't been here, that much was true. Minority or majority, he had cared for Komaeda on a way no other doctor would. It was that attention and openness, too, that made him desirable. It was a stroke of luck that he'd taken in a patient like this. It was luck that he'd gotten a doctor who could treat and stitch and lend any injury. Sou Hiyori, the Ultimate Surgeon who seemed to master every subject he took up, a student of the highest prestige due to his background.
He couldn't wait because he has no love. ]
It's alright, I'll make sure you're taken care of.
[ He gets up just briefly, retrieving the items from the nightstand before returning to Komaeda's side. He takes our a pill - a broad spectrum antibiotics - and presses it to Komaeda's lips. ]
Here, take this... The rest might hurt, but do you best to hang in there. I'll be here in place of your family, okay, Komaeda-kun?
[ Once he's done that, he'll take out a tube and pat a numbing agent on his skin as gently as possible. It's an ASUNARO exclusive, and it's not a solution, but it's better than waiting a half hour for a painkiller. He waits several seconds for it to kick in before he pulls the messy stitches out, cleaning and disinfecting and restitching the wound before finishing with a salve for expedited cellular repair with a skill and speed worthy of his title. He changes gloves more than once throughout the process, cognizantof procedure.
He takes up Komaeda's arm next, holding his hand tight, speaking more to try to keep him aware than anything. ]
I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you... But I'm here now, okay? We'll get you to the hospital soon, so you can get better. I'll be there the entire time. I promise I won't leave at all.
[ There's no such thing as visiting hours or guest passes for those of ASUNARO, after all. ]
Edited 2022-01-28 02:42 (UTC)
(deleted comment)
SIGH FINE he won't be a responsible adult, i'm taking it back, he's gonna be irresponsible
It's done now, see? It needs to be dressed, but it should hurt far less now... You did well.
[ It had hurt. It will hurt now too, but there's no helping that. It's stitched and clean, and that alone would do wonders to hep with any irritation. It would keep him from getting worse, and it would wipe away those false promises of love that are etched into his skin. He doesn't think that Komaeda took the pill given to him and Hiyori wonders if that was out of fear or spite. He lets Komaeda pull away only to take that thin hand in his own once more. He looks terrible, and it would be irresponsible to let him leave now.
His skin is burning up, and he wonders if he should add in a medication to reduce the fever. Would he reject that too? He's seen patients pocket pills too many times to count, and so this behavior doesn't surprise him. There's no effort to fight it, and instead he'll attempt to gingerly lift up his arm. Unfortunately, there's no way to work on it like this without it being uncomfortable for him.
His luck won't let him die, but nor will Hiyori. Until he finds that single element that can revive him, he'll continue to go on while neither living nor dying. ]
You may spit it out if you'd like. I can give you something to bring down your fever instead. You should have some water as well... Come now, roll over so I can take care of your arm. I'll let you go home once you've been taken care of.
[ He keeps talking in an effort to offer both comfort and a distract, trying to nudge him back over so he can care for that as well. ]
You trust me, don't you, Komaeda-kun? I'd never do anything that would hurt you.
(deleted comment)
HE WAS TRYING TO BE GOOD i won't let him... he deserves that, hope it's a knife in the gut
[ Hiyori has never once stopped when asked, and he doesn't do so now. The arm is cleaned, disinfected, and stitched as the other injury was. He takes the time to bandage this first, wrapping it up tightly. If only Komaeda would still tearing himself open, then Hiyori would no longer need to stitch him back up. There would be no need for disinfectants and salves to encourage cellular repair, no white bandages and pills - ones carefully chosen due to his condition - to alleviate the worst of his symptoms.
There's so much that he needs now. Hiyori has a small pharmacy between his two apartments, and so he knows it won't be difficult to set Komaeda up with an IV bag here if needed. Still, he thinks once more that the emergency room might be a better fit. ]
No, I never would...
[ There's a sigh as he considers what to do next. It seems unlikely that he'll be able to sit up on his own, but they need to ensure that the area he damaged is properly covered. The small frown on his face is quickly replaced by an apologetic smile. ]
I'm sorry, Komaeda-kun, but I need you to endure for a little while longer... Are you able to sit up?
[ If not, Hiyori will try to assist him in doing so, shifting his position so as to be able to support his weight as he does so. ]
[ It doesn't take long for him to wrap up his side wound as well. Hiyori might have moved onto a closer inspection of his patient if not for the hand gripping at his shirt, pulling him down until he's hovering above Komaeda. Hie rests his arms on the floor, using them to support himself. It's not the time for that, and he's quite certain that they should both have other concerns, but those arms around his neck and his hair tie being pulled loose.
There's plenty of things he could do and a few more that he'd like to, but Hiyori keeps himself still. There's nothing he can do that won't hurt Komaeda. It was nearly impossible to avoid agitating an injury on the side, and the gash on his arm was liable to be just as sensitive. If his patient fails to think of these things for himself, then it's the doctor's responsibility to do so. ]
Come now, Komaeda-kun...
[ Is it really alright to indulge him like this? It's not, but he does so anyway. It's always like that. He does his work flawlessly, and there's never a time when it's left unfinished, but that same talent allows him to act in a manner some would deem irresponsible. He procrastinates on matters of importance, he works himself to exhaustion and still takes on more, and he presently allows himself the careless and irresponsible distraction of leaning in to kiss the patient he's supposed to be treating while telling himself that just one is fine. ]
[ It's an unwarranted enthusiasm, and something about it strikes Hiyori as strange coming on the heels of being ignored for so long. Komaeda was unpredictable and often had mood swings, but even for him this seems rather sudden. But he leans into at first, wondering if the taste of the sickly sweet treat he just had is lingering on his lips to make him realize his mistakes, or if the fever is covering up that sin for him as well.
He's radiating more heat than Hiyori has ever felt from him. He doesn't like that, no more than he likes the continued signs of pain that he shows, and he's enough to keep him from letting himself ease into another, deeper kiss. There's no love in this to compensate for the fact that he's shirking his duties, there's no happiness to compensate for all of those little shakes and little twists and scrunches of his face, or of the sounds that escape him.
Were this somebody he wanted to hurt, it would be pure bliss, but this is a person he had decided to build up, and so he doesn't. ]
Komaeda-kun, if you want to feel something, it shouldn't be pain...
[ He doesn't quite pull away, but he does hover a little, waiting for him to remove his arms. ]
A doctor is supposed to heal their patients, not harm them.
Edited 2022-01-28 23:56 (UTC)
(deleted comment)
STOP put a small bomb in him right now bc i refuse to let him get lucky
[ It's truly unfair, the way that Komaeda pulls him down, the shiver that runs down his spine when those lithe fingers trail down his neck. Beautiful, amazing, perfect; broken, ugly and cruel - all of those descriptors fit Komaeda, who makes Hiyori's heart thrum in his chest in a way that no other can. The love he feels cannot be measured in human metrics, and Hiyori lifts a hand to cup Komaeda's cheek with a smile. His careful guidance means they're close, with their noses brushing, and Hiyori only need decide whether or not to close that gap once more.
He lingers there, their lips just a breath away, deliberating on the choice. It's ever difficult for him to deny his cute patient, but it's his job to do so. It's like dealing with a child who wants to open the cookie jar and eat it all in one sitting. Hiyori might do so, but he wouldn't eat more than a few bites for the next couple days due to bloat after, and the resulting sugar rush would be just enough to carry him through his work before he fell asleep at his desk. He would drag himself home to shower and nothing more.
Love and gold were the two elements necessary to keep the world spinning, but he has the latter in excess; just one of the bribes he'd taken should be enough to carry him through a lifetime. It's foolish, and most of all those have managed to tether him to his old title. It's ever a surprise, and always spoken in shushed whispers as though it were some special secret for their ears only, of how none could possibly surpass him... The foolish, foolish minority who could neither accept that Hope's Peak was wrong to accept him or to expel him. Those who understood that he was their abandoned prodigy, that he was at one time their hope.
Gold, trash, love, hate, hope, despair, sense, cents - all things in balance, all so freely given all because he was an Ultimate who so refused his talent and was thus able to excel at everything. All such because he was the product of ASUNARO and Hope's Peak, two Ultimates who were founders of the greatest company in the world. All because those sameself people ensured that he understood how different he was - no, how the same, and how because of that he must put forth more effort than anyone. Gold and love, neither matters, all that matters is how much effort one puts in. The latter are mere rewards. They're ephemeral things he can take at any time thanks to his hard work.. So it's only natural that he should continue so that they'll never once slip from his grasp, never to slip through his fingers like grains of sand on the beach.
Ah, he's gotten lazy and sloppy. He needs to work even harder. He needs to do more, be more, become more... ]
I love you, Komaeda-kun, now more than ever.
[ His hand comes up to cup his cheek. He loves him so much, and he works so hard, and yet he's ever so easily so led astray by desire. ]
So much... Ah, I can't imagine letting something happen to you....
[ What if he did? What would the depths of that despair be? He knows, he knows, and he's certain they do as well. But the frail figure beneath him thinks of nothing more than hope and despair. Hiyori, filled with thoughts of gold and status and other metrics, eases in to kiss him again after a faint mumble, ]
I love you more than anyone else.
(deleted comment)
sometimes i think about how his pettiness overrides his horniness every time
[ There's small, insignificant little shifts in a person when they're thinking of someone or something else. There's little tells of a person's mind being occupied by something else, and if one learns to look for these then they can see them everywhere. Does he even need to, though, when a person doesn't even so bother to hide it? Then again, perhaps it's just his imagination. But it doesn't matter when just the thought is enough to make him ill.
He has no hope nor despair, but he has the single element that makes up the entire world. He has love, and so he needn't worry about such matters, and it's love that guides his hands and mouth. It's love that tells him that this pain isn't worth it for either of them. But Komaeda has no love to give to anyone, and he rejects all love given to him, and so there's no need to continue on with this. That aside, it's hard for him to enjoy when his patient is dying beneath him, and he's reached his limit on that front.
Komaeda's leg slips between his own though, and there's a groan as he finds the right spot. Tremors run down his back, face flushing, and his hips do unconsciously begin to rock before he catches himself. It's not the time, and he can't allow it to be, and so Hiyori forces himself to bite back any further sounds. He starts the slow process of detaching himself, voice coming out a little shaky, ]
I love you, Komaeda-kun, and so I'd much rather see you well... Ah, my call to the hospital doesn't seem to have gone through, or else I'm sure they would have been here by now.
[ He doesn't want to continue. But Hiyori moves slowly and carefully, just a gentle tug to encourage Komaeda to let go of him. ]
Edited 2022-01-30 00:34 (UTC)
(deleted comment)
i think in this case killing is love, komaeda is doing this for love
[ Hiyori ceases in his efforts as Komaeda tightens his grip. Hiyori will wrap an arm around his back, careful to avoid touching his injured side, supporting him as best as he can while the other tries to pull himself up. It's painful to see him like this, in a state of delirium for how sick he is. It's just a single phone call, and if he can get through that the gears will start turning, but he supposes that he'll have to do so while still caring for another person.
It's unfortunate. Komaeda lacks the single element that Hiyori has, and he likewise wonders if things could be different in another world. This world was broken and rotten from the inside out. It's been tainted by the notion of talent, by those who believed that they could only be one single thing or nothing at all, and by selfish humans who crushed all potential under their heel. In another world, in a reshaped world, there would be no such obstructions, and he would ensure the person before him thought of no one else. When he remembers that, it's easier to set aside from of his frustrations.
He was never the one who left. He didn't leave Hope's Peak, they kicked him out and ensured that he would abandon title and history alike. Hiyori hadn't left once, it was Komaeda who had walked away and abruptly cut contact. It was the one and only visit he'd received, though there was no sadness in such a thing. He was sent flowers and cards and well wishes.
He holds Komaeda as he pushes himself up. He responds to that small peppering of kisses with just a single peck on the cheek and that ever present smile, warm and affectionate, his hand moving into his pocket to take his phone now. ]
Shh, you'll be fine...
[ There is no other life, and so they must do what they can with this one. Komaeda manages to pull him back down. There's a second in which he can almsot speak again, and then he sees stars, and everything begins to move far too quickly after that. The knee to his groin is agonizing, and without a doubt it would be enough to incapacitate him, but an even worse pain so follow. He wants to scream, but all that comes out is a choked breath accompanied by flecks of blood. His body freezes up, shaking rapidly, and he can no more continue to stay up than he can fall down.
The knife is removed, and he doesn't have time to try and act before its been thrust in once more. There's a sharp gasp of air, and his vision blurs from pain and tears and the beginning of rapid blood loss, and it's not long before it's risen up his throat and he finds himself coughing and vomitting up blood -- most likely directly onto Komaeda. Red spills out of his gut and mouth and stains both of them, it mixes in and coats the blue carpet beneath both of them.
If he's afforded the opportunity he might ask why, but perhaps he won't be. It's not hard to repeatedly staba person, after all, one only need push the knife in and pull it out. And held in place and crippled by shock and pain as he is, he has no way of escaping it. ]
[ It's as though the knife was meant to be there. It pierces skin and muscle and organs with ease, each time drawing out a fresh stream of blood and fresh screams that mingle with the sickening sound of flesh being ripped apart. He's weak by the third, blood dripping out of his mouth, and his voice is gone by the fifth, and by the seventh what little strength he had left is gone and he's collapsed onto the knife. But all that comes out is sticky red liquid, filling the room with the coppery smell that promised death was near.
He's dizzy from pain and rapid blood loss, and it's difficult for him to understand what's being said to him. Perhaps he did have love once, or perhaps it had never existed. But it might have been there once, a measure of it that was pulverized and burnt to a crisp before being spread to the wind. It was followed by such a strong despair that he still remembers that sensation, terrifying and thrilling all at once, and how it had allowed him to act before emptying it out and allowing himself to exist as he is now.
Hope and despair were necessary in measured doses. But he can't understand how this should help, or maybe that's because he can't understand much of anything now. Hiyori trembles in Komaeda's hold, raspy breaths interrupted by coughs and choking as blood runs up his throat. There's no hope. There's only blood and sweat and tears, there's only pain and agony and fear, sobs and soft whimpers that have replaced screams.
It doesn't end though, and he at least seems to register what's going to happen when the knife is pulled out once more. He wants to move, he wants to beg, but all that comes out of his mouth is another cry. The knife is slammed into his leg now, ripped out only to pierce skin once more over and over, and his fingers twitch and his body convulses and he gasps before it dies down into little trembles and shaky and uneven breaths.
He's pushed off with ease, and his head tilts slightly as he tries to follow Komaeda with his eyes. His vision blurs and the world spins, and his phone is taken and through the rushing in his head he can hear the audible snap and crash as the phone hits and bounces against the wall and falls to the ground in pieces. There's no one for him to call now. There's a landline in his office though, and he'll dig his fingers into the soaked carpet as he experiments with dragging himself in any one direction.
It's wrong to love him, but it's not, because he loves humans more than any other. It's wrong to try and help him, because Hiyori is perfect as he is. It's wrong to call it pleasant, it's wrong, it's wrong, he doesn't want to die, not over that filthy, worthless, disgusting title that had been coming up even when he leaves the house now and how had others noticed and what had he missed and how does he stop it - ]
Just... Sou...
[ - Hiyori, just a simple doctor, not the Ultimate Surgeon, is what he wants to say, but those two words are the sharpest rejection that he can manage. He no longer wishes for that title, he had never wanted to pick it up, and it's been proven time and time again that it can only cause him pain.
Sou Hiyori manages to pull himself a few inches, then to shakily push himself up a bit off the ground, clutching his stomach with a shuddering breath as he looks to the kit near him. Nothing spills out of him but blood. But that's fine, because it means he just needs to stitch himself up enough to not bleed out. ]
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i closed them!!! it's just my email and tags now
Are you sure? There's a bottle in the trash... Ah, you poor thing, you're burning up.
[ He's dialing the emergency line now, thumb hovering over the dial button. It's the responsible decision, he supposes. He's well equipped here, and he could do at home treatments, but it occurs to him presently that such an ill patient would have additional needs. He was sickly enough that even the flu was a threat.
It's a shame. He'd rather not send him to the hospital more than necessary. That, too, feels like failure. But then, why was Komaeda even here? ]
Is there anything else? Any substances? Please, tell me anything that you can.
i know why is he picking now to try to be responsible wtf
He steps over to the other side of the bed, crouching down next to him. A couple of pillows and the blanket had all gone with him, leaving a bit of a mess on the floor. He reaches out to touch him, trying to see what else he can gather. ]
Komaeda-kun... I'm trying to help you.
you're probably right that's all he thinks about
[ He murmurs, but Hiyori brings his free hand up to stroke his hair. What had triggered this? He's not certain. Komaeda has episodes, but there was always some trigger. It's been close to a month since he entered the hospital, and so there was no reason for him to do so now.
He frowns at the feeling of swollen flesh beneath his fingers. Was it an infection then? He takes his and away from Komaeda's waist, lifting his shirt up to try and assess the remainder of the damage. He doesn't want to encourage this behavior by giving too much of a response, but nor can he just ignore it. ]
There's no need for you to hurt anymore, Komaeda-kun. I'm right here, see? You can talk to me. I can't treat your condition here, so we'll need to take you to the hospital... But I'll take care of you as best I can, and I'll stay with you.
[ He glances back to the marks on the other's neck. ]
Did you do anything else, Komaeda-kun?
LOOK HE JUST WANTS THE SEX TBH IT IS USELESS I HATE HIM
He couldn't wait because he has no love. ]
It's alright, I'll make sure you're taken care of.
[ He gets up just briefly, retrieving the items from the nightstand before returning to Komaeda's side. He takes our a pill - a broad spectrum antibiotics - and presses it to Komaeda's lips. ]
Here, take this... The rest might hurt, but do you best to hang in there. I'll be here in place of your family, okay, Komaeda-kun?
[ Once he's done that, he'll take out a tube and pat a numbing agent on his skin as gently as possible. It's an ASUNARO exclusive, and it's not a solution, but it's better than waiting a half hour for a painkiller. He waits several seconds for it to kick in before he pulls the messy stitches out, cleaning and disinfecting and restitching the wound before finishing with a salve for expedited cellular repair with a skill and speed worthy of his title. He changes gloves more than once throughout the process, cognizantof procedure.
He takes up Komaeda's arm next, holding his hand tight, speaking more to try to keep him aware than anything. ]
I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you... But I'm here now, okay? We'll get you to the hospital soon, so you can get better. I'll be there the entire time. I promise I won't leave at all.
[ There's no such thing as visiting hours or guest passes for those of ASUNARO, after all. ]
SIGH FINE he won't be a responsible adult, i'm taking it back, he's gonna be irresponsible
[ It had hurt. It will hurt now too, but there's no helping that. It's stitched and clean, and that alone would do wonders to hep with any irritation. It would keep him from getting worse, and it would wipe away those false promises of love that are etched into his skin. He doesn't think that Komaeda took the pill given to him and Hiyori wonders if that was out of fear or spite. He lets Komaeda pull away only to take that thin hand in his own once more. He looks terrible, and it would be irresponsible to let him leave now.
His skin is burning up, and he wonders if he should add in a medication to reduce the fever. Would he reject that too? He's seen patients pocket pills too many times to count, and so this behavior doesn't surprise him. There's no effort to fight it, and instead he'll attempt to gingerly lift up his arm. Unfortunately, there's no way to work on it like this without it being uncomfortable for him.
His luck won't let him die, but nor will Hiyori. Until he finds that single element that can revive him, he'll continue to go on while neither living nor dying. ]
You may spit it out if you'd like. I can give you something to bring down your fever instead. You should have some water as well... Come now, roll over so I can take care of your arm. I'll let you go home once you've been taken care of.
[ He keeps talking in an effort to offer both comfort and a distract, trying to nudge him back over so he can care for that as well. ]
You trust me, don't you, Komaeda-kun? I'd never do anything that would hurt you.
HE WAS TRYING TO BE GOOD i won't let him... he deserves that, hope it's a knife in the gut
There's so much that he needs now. Hiyori has a small pharmacy between his two apartments, and so he knows it won't be difficult to set Komaeda up with an IV bag here if needed. Still, he thinks once more that the emergency room might be a better fit. ]
No, I never would...
[ There's a sigh as he considers what to do next. It seems unlikely that he'll be able to sit up on his own, but they need to ensure that the area he damaged is properly covered. The small frown on his face is quickly replaced by an apologetic smile. ]
I'm sorry, Komaeda-kun, but I need you to endure for a little while longer... Are you able to sit up?
[ If not, Hiyori will try to assist him in doing so, shifting his position so as to be able to support his weight as he does so. ]
Is there anything else?
STOP I WAS THINKING OF SCHOOL DAYS
There's plenty of things he could do and a few more that he'd like to, but Hiyori keeps himself still. There's nothing he can do that won't hurt Komaeda. It was nearly impossible to avoid agitating an injury on the side, and the gash on his arm was liable to be just as sensitive. If his patient fails to think of these things for himself, then it's the doctor's responsibility to do so. ]
Come now, Komaeda-kun...
[ Is it really alright to indulge him like this? It's not, but he does so anyway. It's always like that. He does his work flawlessly, and there's never a time when it's left unfinished, but that same talent allows him to act in a manner some would deem irresponsible. He procrastinates on matters of importance, he works himself to exhaustion and still takes on more, and he presently allows himself the careless and irresponsible distraction of leaning in to kiss the patient he's supposed to be treating while telling himself that just one is fine. ]
OKAY FINE YEAH THAT'S A LIL EXTRA
He's radiating more heat than Hiyori has ever felt from him. He doesn't like that, no more than he likes the continued signs of pain that he shows, and he's enough to keep him from letting himself ease into another, deeper kiss. There's no love in this to compensate for the fact that he's shirking his duties, there's no happiness to compensate for all of those little shakes and little twists and scrunches of his face, or of the sounds that escape him.
Were this somebody he wanted to hurt, it would be pure bliss, but this is a person he had decided to build up, and so he doesn't. ]
Komaeda-kun, if you want to feel something, it shouldn't be pain...
[ He doesn't quite pull away, but he does hover a little, waiting for him to remove his arms. ]
A doctor is supposed to heal their patients, not harm them.
STOP put a small bomb in him right now bc i refuse to let him get lucky
He lingers there, their lips just a breath away, deliberating on the choice. It's ever difficult for him to deny his cute patient, but it's his job to do so. It's like dealing with a child who wants to open the cookie jar and eat it all in one sitting. Hiyori might do so, but he wouldn't eat more than a few bites for the next couple days due to bloat after, and the resulting sugar rush would be just enough to carry him through his work before he fell asleep at his desk. He would drag himself home to shower and nothing more.
Love and gold were the two elements necessary to keep the world spinning, but he has the latter in excess; just one of the bribes he'd taken should be enough to carry him through a lifetime. It's foolish, and most of all those have managed to tether him to his old title. It's ever a surprise, and always spoken in shushed whispers as though it were some special secret for their ears only, of how none could possibly surpass him... The foolish, foolish minority who could neither accept that Hope's Peak was wrong to accept him or to expel him. Those who understood that he was their abandoned prodigy, that he was at one time their hope.
Gold, trash, love, hate, hope, despair, sense, cents - all things in balance, all so freely given all because he was an Ultimate who so refused his talent and was thus able to excel at everything. All such because he was the product of ASUNARO and Hope's Peak, two Ultimates who were founders of the greatest company in the world. All because those sameself people ensured that he understood how different he was - no, how the same, and how because of that he must put forth more effort than anyone. Gold and love, neither matters, all that matters is how much effort one puts in. The latter are mere rewards. They're ephemeral things he can take at any time thanks to his hard work.. So it's only natural that he should continue so that they'll never once slip from his grasp, never to slip through his fingers like grains of sand on the beach.
Ah, he's gotten lazy and sloppy. He needs to work even harder. He needs to do more, be more, become more... ]
I love you, Komaeda-kun, now more than ever.
[ His hand comes up to cup his cheek. He loves him so much, and he works so hard, and yet he's ever so easily so led astray by desire. ]
So much... Ah, I can't imagine letting something happen to you....
[ What if he did? What would the depths of that despair be? He knows, he knows, and he's certain they do as well. But the frail figure beneath him thinks of nothing more than hope and despair. Hiyori, filled with thoughts of gold and status and other metrics, eases in to kiss him again after a faint mumble, ]
I love you more than anyone else.
sometimes i think about how his pettiness overrides his horniness every time
He has no hope nor despair, but he has the single element that makes up the entire world. He has love, and so he needn't worry about such matters, and it's love that guides his hands and mouth. It's love that tells him that this pain isn't worth it for either of them. But Komaeda has no love to give to anyone, and he rejects all love given to him, and so there's no need to continue on with this. That aside, it's hard for him to enjoy when his patient is dying beneath him, and he's reached his limit on that front.
Komaeda's leg slips between his own though, and there's a groan as he finds the right spot. Tremors run down his back, face flushing, and his hips do unconsciously begin to rock before he catches himself. It's not the time, and he can't allow it to be, and so Hiyori forces himself to bite back any further sounds. He starts the slow process of detaching himself, voice coming out a little shaky, ]
I love you, Komaeda-kun, and so I'd much rather see you well... Ah, my call to the hospital doesn't seem to have gone through, or else I'm sure they would have been here by now.
[ He doesn't want to continue. But Hiyori moves slowly and carefully, just a gentle tug to encourage Komaeda to let go of him. ]
i think in this case killing is love, komaeda is doing this for love
It's unfortunate. Komaeda lacks the single element that Hiyori has, and he likewise wonders if things could be different in another world. This world was broken and rotten from the inside out. It's been tainted by the notion of talent, by those who believed that they could only be one single thing or nothing at all, and by selfish humans who crushed all potential under their heel. In another world, in a reshaped world, there would be no such obstructions, and he would ensure the person before him thought of no one else. When he remembers that, it's easier to set aside from of his frustrations.
He was never the one who left. He didn't leave Hope's Peak, they kicked him out and ensured that he would abandon title and history alike. Hiyori hadn't left once, it was Komaeda who had walked away and abruptly cut contact. It was the one and only visit he'd received, though there was no sadness in such a thing. He was sent flowers and cards and well wishes.
He holds Komaeda as he pushes himself up. He responds to that small peppering of kisses with just a single peck on the cheek and that ever present smile, warm and affectionate, his hand moving into his pocket to take his phone now. ]
Shh, you'll be fine...
[ There is no other life, and so they must do what they can with this one. Komaeda manages to pull him back down. There's a second in which he can almsot speak again, and then he sees stars, and everything begins to move far too quickly after that. The knee to his groin is agonizing, and without a doubt it would be enough to incapacitate him, but an even worse pain so follow. He wants to scream, but all that comes out is a choked breath accompanied by flecks of blood. His body freezes up, shaking rapidly, and he can no more continue to stay up than he can fall down.
The knife is removed, and he doesn't have time to try and act before its been thrust in once more. There's a sharp gasp of air, and his vision blurs from pain and tears and the beginning of rapid blood loss, and it's not long before it's risen up his throat and he finds himself coughing and vomitting up blood -- most likely directly onto Komaeda. Red spills out of his gut and mouth and stains both of them, it mixes in and coats the blue carpet beneath both of them.
If he's afforded the opportunity he might ask why, but perhaps he won't be. It's not hard to repeatedly staba person, after all, one only need push the knife in and pull it out. And held in place and crippled by shock and pain as he is, he has no way of escaping it. ]
i think it's a pure kind of love (and pettiness)
He's dizzy from pain and rapid blood loss, and it's difficult for him to understand what's being said to him. Perhaps he did have love once, or perhaps it had never existed. But it might have been there once, a measure of it that was pulverized and burnt to a crisp before being spread to the wind. It was followed by such a strong despair that he still remembers that sensation, terrifying and thrilling all at once, and how it had allowed him to act before emptying it out and allowing himself to exist as he is now.
Hope and despair were necessary in measured doses. But he can't understand how this should help, or maybe that's because he can't understand much of anything now. Hiyori trembles in Komaeda's hold, raspy breaths interrupted by coughs and choking as blood runs up his throat. There's no hope. There's only blood and sweat and tears, there's only pain and agony and fear, sobs and soft whimpers that have replaced screams.
It doesn't end though, and he at least seems to register what's going to happen when the knife is pulled out once more. He wants to move, he wants to beg, but all that comes out of his mouth is another cry. The knife is slammed into his leg now, ripped out only to pierce skin once more over and over, and his fingers twitch and his body convulses and he gasps before it dies down into little trembles and shaky and uneven breaths.
He's pushed off with ease, and his head tilts slightly as he tries to follow Komaeda with his eyes. His vision blurs and the world spins, and his phone is taken and through the rushing in his head he can hear the audible snap and crash as the phone hits and bounces against the wall and falls to the ground in pieces. There's no one for him to call now. There's a landline in his office though, and he'll dig his fingers into the soaked carpet as he experiments with dragging himself in any one direction.
It's wrong to love him, but it's not, because he loves humans more than any other. It's wrong to try and help him, because Hiyori is perfect as he is. It's wrong to call it pleasant, it's wrong, it's wrong, he doesn't want to die, not over that filthy, worthless, disgusting title that had been coming up even when he leaves the house now and how had others noticed and what had he missed and how does he stop it - ]
Just... Sou...
[ - Hiyori, just a simple doctor, not the Ultimate Surgeon, is what he wants to say, but those two words are the sharpest rejection that he can manage. He no longer wishes for that title, he had never wanted to pick it up, and it's been proven time and time again that it can only cause him pain.
Sou Hiyori manages to pull himself a few inches, then to shakily push himself up a bit off the ground, clutching his stomach with a shuddering breath as he looks to the kit near him. Nothing spills out of him but blood. But that's fine, because it means he just needs to stitch himself up enough to not bleed out. ]
sighhhhs but he still wouldn't have hope tho
the way komaeda's going to kill him if he doesn't
it was a lucky guess!! he lost it hope's peak killed it
STOOOOPPP maybe i'll give him hope after this
I'M SURE HE WILL PROBABLY he's just getting destroyed here, his punishment for being hopeless
SIGH HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN KOMAEDA'S CLASS HE COULDA SAVED HIM
SIGH LET THEM HAVE THEIR CUTE HIGH SCHOOL ROMANCE they'll "wake up" in yogen together
SIGH FINE I KNOW NEITHER OF THESE GUYS ARE GOING TO DIE THEY GOTTA CUDDLE IN THE HOSPITAL