"The Lost", Chapter Ten
Title: The Lost
Chapter: 10/10
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sakumoto, Ohmiya
Rating: R
Warnings: Graphic violence, language.
Summary: Do you remember me? Lost for so long? Will you be on the other side? Will you forget me?
They left the department store in the afternoon.
Jun's whole world was a haze. He stared at the backs of the figures walking in front of him, just trying to keep one foot moving in front of the other. All he could think about was the rotting flesh of those they had already come up against- those he had been fighting for weeks.
He'd be one of them, soon enough.
The others were chatting in front of him, joking- trying to keep their spirits and energy up, and Jun couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't even make out words. There had to be a way to stop it, to quell it; maybe a way to eject it from his bloodstream, cleanse his veins again.
But the truth of his situation rang like a death knell every time his heels hit the ground, until he couldn't look away any longer.
Some time in- and Jun had no idea how long, there was a hand on his elbow. "Jun?"
He jumped instinctively. Not because of the adrenaline or his completely shot nerves, but because he was afraid- he was afraid of infecting Sho, too, who was looking at him with concerned eyes.
"Sorry," Jun mumbled, and deliberately side-stepped away from the other man.
The expression on Sho's face hurt more than the throbbing in Jun's shin did, making him choke on guilt all over again.
"Just tired," he said. "Just-"
His voice trailed off. Sho's hand fell back down to his side. And when Sho moved to catch back up with Nino and Ohno, Jun wanted to die faster than he knew he was inevitably going to.
Aiba looped his arm around Jun's shoulders a bit, and though Jun stiffened at the contact, he didn't pull away- he couldn't infect Aiba without bodily fluids, so he was a safe bet to collapse against.
"Are you okay?" Aiba asked. It shouldn't have needed to be asked- Aiba was still hurting, still mourning, and his grief was fresh.
"Sure," Jun replied, and the lie tasted like ash.
--
They hit the last of the small towns when the sun went down, and Toma found a house- it wasn't above ground, and they had to move shelves and furniture in front of the windows to secure it; even then it wasn't really all that safe, and two of them had to stay up at all times to keep watch. But it was something, and they could at least sleep.
Jun didn't sleep. He kept himself away from Sho, whose confused face made Jun's stomach twist, and curled himself into a ball near the wall instead, arms wrapped around himself. Even when Aiba's regular, heavy breathing settled over the room like calming waves, he couldn't find solace.
He would never find solace again.
He still had his memories, didn't he? He could still remember his past- his childhood. It stretched out like shadowed fingers, but it was there. He remembered the time his sister got angry and pushed him down, and he hit his head on the door. He remembered the first day of school, and clinging to his mother's hand because he was unwilling to go in without her. He could still recall graduation, and going to college.
He could still feel Sho's mouth hot against his own, and Sho's hands feverishly sliding.
A sob caught in his throat, and he had to swallow it down, biting on his hand to keep himself from making any noise.
Jun knew he couldn't get on that boat.
He'd agreed with Ai when she'd said they couldn't take the Infected out with them- he knew it, no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise. It was a fact, the cold, harsh fact that was going to tether itself to his ankle like a shackle.
Oh, god, what was he going to do?
He didn't know. As the minutes slowly ticked into hours, and the hours gave way to the rising sun through the blinds, Jun just stared at the palms of his hands lying against the grimy floor he was curled up on. His fingers would lose the flesh, his arms would decompose- and his mind, that would go first. He would lose everything that had made him who he was, everything that had shaped and sculpted and molded his life. He'd be just like a canvas splashed with the crimson of blood and smeared over so that only red remained.
Behind him, a body shifted, sighing- Sho. The sound wasn't of sleep; maybe Sho hadn't slept, either.
The sting of hurting him was keen, but it was the only thing to do. Jun couldn't follow him away from the country, not with the virus shrieking in his veins, marring his being.
He wished for a swift death- it had to be better than waiting for the slow moving axe-swoop to arrive. And he knew his wishes had gone unanswered when the others all began to stir and wake, and he pushed himself up with his palms flat against the cold floor to follow.
--
"Here," Toma said, pushing inside the half-rotted door to an old shack just off the docks. It reeked of salt- salt and fish, of the smell of the sea. Compared to the stench of rotting flesh, it was a welcome change. "Wait out here, and we'll talk to them."
Toma got snippy with little sleep, but Ai gave them all a half-smile as she followed inside.
And Nino turned, looking a little out of breath. "This is it."
There was a trill of anticipation in his tone. The others perked, and Jun just wished he could share in the sentiment. He stared out at the dock, at the boats anchored there, wondering which was the one that would take the others away- which was the one that he would watch sail off as he remained on damned soil.
There was a hand on his elbow, and this time, the fingers were insistent. Hard. They closed down tightly without remorse and immediately began tugging Jun away down the shoreline, past the rickety shack and around a corner where they were out of sight of the other three.
"What's wrong?" Sho asked, immediately, as soon as they were in the shadows.
Jun shrugged out of his hold, breath quickening. "Nothing."
"Bullshit," Sho snapped. "You've been avoiding me. Why?"
"I-" Jun started. He was prepared to deny it, but he couldn't- and he was no longer sure he wanted to. If Sho thought he didn't care, it would be easier to watch him leave. If Sho was angry and upset, Jun could let him go without a fuss. "I can't do this anymore."
A long moment, and Sho's eyes were wide. "What?"
"I thought I could," Jun barreled through, keeping his eyes just over Sho's shoulder. He couldn't meet the other man's gaze; it would break him, crack his defenses. "And I just can't. I'm sorry."
He swallowed thickly. "I- I don't want to be with you."
His hands were balled into such tight fists that his fingernails were digging into his own palms like tiny blades. And Sho just stared at him, stared at him without really seeing.
"You-" Sho began.
"Stop," Jun interrupted. "Just- nothing you can say will change this. I'm sorry."
It was getting too hard to breathe. Jun thought he would fall, collapse; slide down the incline to the sand and evaporate into the ocean itself. Everything was falling apart inside, and he was never going to be able to put it back together again.
"Jun! Sho!" came the cry from beyond the building's corner.
Sho took a shaky step backwards, almost looking like he would fall.
"Jun," he breathed, and oh, it was almost enough, it was almost enough and Jun wanted to take it all back-
"Hey!" the shout from the group resounded. "Guys, come on!"
Jun left Sho standing in the shadows, and he thought his heart was breaking. Toma and Ai were waiting by the other three- and none of them looked particularly pleased. There was an odd skip to Jun's breathing.
"Boat needs repairs," Ai explained. She glanced over Jun's shoulder at Sho, slowly rejoining the group with heavy steps. "We're leaving tomorrow."
Nino made an exasperated sounding noise, spinning and glaring at the sky. "We're so close!"
"Just one more night," Ohno said. He reached for Nino's hand unabashedly. "What's one more night?"
Everything, Jun thought, stomach dropping.
--
They stayed in an apartment that night that had been cleaned up a little; obviously by Toma and Ai's people. Jun wasn't sure if he was glad for it, or resentful at the kindness. The seven sat around watching Nino doing magic tricks with Aiba's deck of cards long after the sun had gone down.
"Remember what your card was?" Nino asked Aiba.
"Yes!" Aiba exclaimed, and then, after a moment, "Wait- wait. I- yes!"
Nino smacked Aiba's leg a bit with the hand holding the rest of the deck. "This doesn't work if you don't. Do you remember?"
"I remember," Ohno said.
"Me, too," Ai laughed. "Finish the trick."
How long before Jun forgot what magic tricks were? Or who Aiba was?
"Alright, alright," Nino said. He shuffled the cards, and cut the deck twice. He showed them all the cards- and his hands- and then turned back to Aiba. While flipping through the cards he hummed a little bit, a song that Jun didn't recognize. It sounded like music from a video game or something.
Beside Ohno, Sho was slumped forward, hands in his lap. He looked like his world was falling apart, like he couldn't find anything left to cling to.
He looked like Jun felt.
"Tada!" Nino said, producing Aiba's card. There was a quirk to his mouth, a cunning little smirk.
"Wow!" Aiba exclaimed. "That's amazing! When we get on the boat, will you show me how to do this?"
Nino snorted, re-shuffling the cards. "No, of course not." He grabbed Aiba's card back, ignoring Aiba's protests.
"Oh, come on," Aiba whined. "Jun, when we get on the boat, make him-"
"I'm not going on the boat," Jun said.
Everything in the room hit a screeching halt, Jun's breathing included. He hadn't meant to say that- he hadn't meant to say anything. But it was out there, and it was shrieking, and he couldn't swallow it back anymore.
Ohno laughed. He obviously thought Jun was joking.
"I'm not going on the boat," Jun repeated. "I- can't."
"Do you get seasick?" Nino asked, slipping the cards back into the box and closing it with a smart snap. "I do, and it sucks, but it's just the-"
"No," Jun cried. "Don't you understand me? I can't go."
There was a very, very long pause, and Ai let out a little gasp.
Aiba reached for Jun's hand. "No, Jun. No- that can't be. You're lying, why are you lying?" And Jun violently tugged his wrist out of Aiba's fingers, because he could taste bile at the back of his throat. They shouldn't touch him- they shouldn't even be near him. He was Infected; he was worse than dead.
Oh, god, he was worse than dead.
"I'm not lying," Jun said. He didn't want to look at Sho, but his gaze moved without volition. Sho wasn't even looking at him, was just staring down at his hands. Probably disgusted. He probably hated Jun and was disgusted with himself all at the same time.
"But," Ohno whispered, "how do you know?"
"Listen to me!" Jun all but exploded. "I'm not lying to you. I can't get on the boat- I got cut, okay? I was stupid, and I got cut, and- I know."
He fumbled with his pant leg, pulling the denim up to expose the bit of ripped shirt he'd tied around his shin. It had bled through the material from use, from walking on it, and most of the cotton was stained crimson.
The sob lodged itself in his throat and he choked on it, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "You guys, I know. I'm-"
He couldn't finish.
Nino looked disbelieving. "It's just a cut, you don't know anything."
"Did you see my jeans?" Jun laughed, mirthlessly. It hurt to do so, and he couldn't stop. "Did you see the blood I feel into? Do you know what it was from? The thing chasing me- I knocked a car over on it. There was blood everywhere, and it was all over my jeans, and my leg."
He just kept laughing like something was hilarious.
"I'm not stupid," he rasped. "Do you guys think I'm stupid? I know what this means."
"Jun," Aiba said, voice cracking.
"How much does it take?" Jun demanded, meeting Toma's stricken gaze. "How much does it take to infect someone?"
When the other man didn't answer right away, Jun slammed his hands down onto the floor. "How much does it take?!"
"A drop," Toma whispered.
More silence, and Jun's ragged breathing. "Did you hear him? A drop. That's all it takes- a drop. And I was covered in it with an open wound."
Ohno's eyes were wide. Nino was staring at the box of cards in his hand. Toma and Ai both looked upset, jarred, like maybe the thought it was their fault. Aiba's eyes were glistening. And Sho-
Sho wouldn't look at him.
"I need you to lock me up," Jun gasped into his hands. "I don't want to hurt anyone, so I need you to put me somewhere safe, where I can't. And lock it. Just throw away the key, okay? Get rid of it."
For a long time, there was no sound. Jun crawled to the corner of the wide living room, as far away from the others as he could get, and when he laid down there, his planner poked his thigh from inside his back pocket. It was like a reminder of everything he was going to forget- everything that was going to disappear.
"Just do it," he said, so low he wasn't sure the others could still hear him. "Don't touch me, don't come near me- just lock me up before you leave tomorrow."
Aiba was crying. Jun buried his face in his palms.
"Please. That's my last request."
He was exhausted. Everything was a blur. When he folded his arms over his face, wrapping them around his head, he could at least pretend that he was alone, and the gut-wrenching events of the next day were over.
He didn't know how long they stayed up after that, because all he could hear was Infected cackling against his ears.
He didn't know anything anymore, except that he was going to die.
He was falling.
But he couldn’t scream. Because if he did he knew he’d lost it, gone past that point nobody came back from.
He was disintegrating, losing the feeling in his feet, in his legs. There was nothing but sky and he kept falling, and there was no parachute. His arms were at his sides, and he watched himself start to break apart. It wasn’t rotting. That was strange.
It was like pulling each individual petal off of a flower, and he just watched, tilting his head back and forth to see one finger turn to particles on his left hand before seeing his thumb disappear on his right. He felt lighter with each passing second, and he closed his eyes, feeling the slightest stinging.
It was like tiny prickles, like having phantom limbs. They were gone. He knew they were gone even with his eyes shut tight. But he knew his fingers had been there. Air rushed around him, into his ears and mouth, a whoosh of pressure as he suddenly halted.
He tried to cough but couldn’t. His eyes wouldn’t open - maybe they’d disintegrated already. But where he’d been so light now there was pressure. Where his chest had been was just a building weight, like he was being flattened.
Get off, he thought. Get off of me. But struggling was near impossible - he had no arms, no legs to fight back with. The pressure was against his mouth, if he still had one, and heat raced through his veins. He was tangible and yet not at the same time. He wanted to claw at the warmth, to get it away from him, to just be able to keep falling as carefree as he had been.
He was dreaming, Jun realized. Clarity started to return as the pressure on him increased. There was a sharp pain by his mouth, jolting him from falling through the skies. He felt the hard floorboards under his back, but he could barely breathe. The pressure on his chest was another person on top of him, each arm pinned by the grip of another person’s hand.
The pain increased as he tried to breathe. Someone was on top of him. He was returning to consciousness, and someone was on top of him. He made a sound and someone’s - someone’s tongue licked his lower lip. Licked his lip where they’d just…bitten him?
“No,” he whispered, struggling. “What are you…”
His breath was stolen, the aggression replaced with a soft kiss, gentle trembling lips. He knew this mouth. Oh fuck, what had he done? What had Sho done?
All he knew was red in his vision, and with strength he didn’t know he had, he screamed and knocked Sho onto his back. He heard the whoosh of Sho’s surprise as the breath flew out of his lungs and the crunch as his glasses were crushed underneath Sho’s back. Jun didn’t know left from right, up from down as he moved, straddling the stupid, stupid, stupid…
“No!” he howled, fist moving without thinking. It made contact with Sho’s face, and Jun felt his knuckles split. “No!” It was too late - Jun could feel the blood on his lip. Sho had bitten him - he’d fucking bitten him, swapped spit with him. Sho was shaking underneath him, putting his hands up to cover his face. But Jun was elsewhere, punching and screaming. Did he know what he’d done? Did he have any idea what he’d done?
What seemed like an eternity had probably been seconds as he kept raining blows down, full of a rage he couldn’t control. And Sho was just lying there under him, trying to keep himself covered. There were hands on his arms then, pulling him off. And someone was being noisy, earsplitting. He realized as Aiba pulled him away from Sho that he was actually the one screaming.
“Sho!” Ai was crying, and Jun struggled against Aiba’s grasp until Toma moved over to help drag him away.
“What the fuck just happened?” Nino screeched.
Jun spat on the floor, and Aiba released him, jumping away from the infected blood that was now staining the floorboard. “He infected himself!” he cried, falling back until he hit the wall, sliding down onto his backside. “He…he…”
Sho was laughing, and the others stepped back, gave the both of them space. All Jun could do was stare in horror as Sho just laughed, tears streaming down his cheeks. Jun had punched him good, and blood was running down his nose, staining his lips.
Aiba was heartbroken. “Sho, why did you…”
“My parents are dead!” Sho cried. “My family is dead, Masaki! I can’t do this any more. I’m not like you. I can’t keep going any more. And I can’t get on a boat if Jun’s not on it too!”
Everyone was quiet, and Jun shook violently, wrapping his arms around himself as he felt the blood, his own infected blood, dribble down from his lip to his chin.
Sho looked him in the eye, still laughing like a man possessed. “I left you before. I’m not going to leave you again. I promised, didn’t I?”
“Stupid,” Jun mumbled. His glasses were gone, his vision was limited, and he hadn’t woken up fast enough to stop him. “You’re so stupid, senpai.”
Nobody knew what to say. What the fuck could anyone say? Finally, Toma cleared his throat. “Sun’ll be up in an hour or so. I’m going to go check on the boat.” Everyone decided this was a good idea, clearing out of the small apartment and leaving the two of them alone.
Sho stared at him, blood still trickling down his face. “I’d never forgive myself,” he said, voice a little off from the blow to his nose. “Never.”
Jun was overwhelmed. He didn’t know if he hated Sho enough to strangle him…or if he wanted to knock him back to the ground and fuck him until they both collapsed. He settled for something in between, spitting another mouthful of blood on the ground.
Sho struggled to his feet, shuffling over to hold out his hand. Jun looked at it, squinting, eyes transfixed by every finger, the faint blue veins, the fingernails bitten to the quick. How long before his hand, before every part of Sho was gone? Jun took Sho’s hand, bringing it to his lips. He pressed his mouth against Sho’s palm, knowing his infected blood was smearing against the pale skin.
But it didn’t matter. Sho had made his choice. His senpai ran his other hand through Jun’s hair, tugging gently at the strands. Jun closed his eyes.
They’d both made their choice.
--
Toma and Ai took them to a small building near the subway station made of red bricks.
Aiba- the only one who was really getting close to them anymore, and even he was walking a few meters away- stopped outside the front door, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Jun paused behind him, trying to still his rapidly pounding heartbeat. He still couldn't wrap his head around any of it- this wasn't how it was supposed to go down.
This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
"Jail?" Sho asked, quietly, when it appeared no one else was going to speak.
"It's the only place I could think of where you couldn't get out," Toma said. He didn't catch Jun's eye- none of them would. Everyone's gazes were pointed down at their feet, at the cracks in the concrete. "I know it's... weird."
No, it wasn't weird. Nothing was weird anymore- how could it be weird when there was a ticking time bomb over Jun's head? How could anything be weird when the only person he'd ever really cared about had just fucking infected himself, damning them both?
"It's not very big," Jun said.
Toma glanced over his shoulder at the building, and Jun thought maybe he could see the other man's arm shaking against the rifle leaning against his chest. "It's just the interim."
Their footsteps echoed when they walked inside. Every step only made Jun's heart sink lower and lower into his stomach- this was it.
Even though he knew it had been coming, even though he knew it had to be done, it still felt like a punch in the gut stepping inside the room and moving towards one of the cells in the back. They were just holding cells, rudimentary; not meant to be used for more than a few days.
But he and Sho wouldn't have more than a few days, would they?
Ai rummaged around in the desk near the cells, and produced some keys. "I- I'm sorry." She looked sincere, like maybe she was about to cry and the tears were just behind her vision, barely being held back. "I wish..."
"Boat will be leaving soon," Jun whispered. They could't draw this out. He wouldn't last; they needed to push him inside with Sho, and just lock the door. He wasn't sure if he could hold out otherwise.
And then Aiba was hugging him, arms tight around his shoulders despite everything, and he might have been crying into Jun's shoulder. He pulled back quickly- maybe he was nervous still, maybe he didn't want to accidentally make Jun cry as well. But his hands lingered on Jun's arms, and his fingers were solid.
"You're my best friend," he sobbed.
Jun's temples throbbed from the tears he was trying vainly to hold back. "You're mine, too, Masaki."
"Please," Aiba whispered. "This can't be the only way."
"They can't come with us," Toma said, but he didn't sound like he enjoyed having to say it. Aiba reached for Sho next, embracing him as well, a sob hitching a little in his chest.
Ohno started tugging on Aiba's sleeve, pulling him towards the door, and that was when the dam broke. Aiba reached for Jun, reached with outstretched fingers even as Ohno and Nino pulled him backwards. "No! We can't leave them here! We have to help them!"
Nino's face was set. "Can't help them now."
"Go, Masaki," Jun choked out. "Just- go, okay? Go and survive."
"Jun!" Aiba just kept shrieking, like a crazed madman, trying and trying in vain to struggle against the hold on his body tugging him back towards the door. And Jun had to tear his eyes away because if he didn't, he wasn't going to be able to stay. He willed his feet to move him into the cell against the wall, trying to block the sounds and scraping and Aiba's frenzied shouting from his ears.
Sho stumbled in next to him, trembling, as Aiba kept screaming. "No! We have to help! Jun!"
"Stop," Jun just pleaded, head in his hands. "Please, Masaki, stop..."
Ohno's gaze was calm, but there was the twinkling of moisture in his eyes- just at the corners, the edges. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Jun wouldn't have known what to say anything- what was appropriate? Thank you for getting us out of the safety center, even though this happened? Thank you for not killing us in our sleep even though it might have been better?
Toma shifted near the door, taking the keys from Ai's hand and giving her the rifle instead. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there- doing anything but what he was doing.
"This..." he started, and then seemed to be at a loss. He pulled the cell door closed, and the sound echoed through the chamber loudly. It almost hurt Jun's ears. The key slid into the lock with a note of finality that knocked the wind from his lungs.
"I know," Sho said.
"It's the right thing to do," Toma finished, lamely.
The lock clicked decisively.
"Take care of them," Jun whispered. "Keep them safe."
Toma nodded, and Ai gave them a watery smile, and when they turned away to walk out the front door, Jun let his head fall against the cell door. Everything was hot and bright at the edges of his vision, bitter in the back of his mouth. Regret, guilt, shame- they all boiled up and collided with each other, jumbling around in his chest.
Next to him, Sho shifted a little, soles skidding against cement floor.
"You were supposed to live," Jun said, and the words caught bit on his tongue.
Sho's hand moved until it was half on top of Jun's own, fingers curling around gently. "No. I wasn't."
There were footsteps in the entrance again, just when Jun thought he was losing control of everything completely. It was Nino, breathless and flushed, wearing an expression akin to- something Jun couldn't touch. Something he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to identify.
"We'll come back," Nino gasped, words coming out in a jumbled heap and mingled with the impending onslaught of tears. "We'll come back, you hear me? When they've got a way to fix it."
He looked shaken. He took one step forward, and then paused, apparently unable to move any further. "We'll come back for you."
And then he fled again, footsteps disappearing beyond the door frame.
For a long time, Jun couldn't move. He didn't move until Sho reached over to pull him in a little, hands soft and gentle along his jaw-line.
"I guess," Jun started, and couldn't swallow back the laughter that bubbled up into his throat, stinging, "this wasn't how I thought it was going to end."
How long before his fingers started rotting, starting peeling away to reveal bone?
"I know," Sho whispered. His fingertips swept across Jun's forehead, pushing away tendrils of hair. "But I promised. This was my choice."
Jun sighed, and sunk into the embrace a little bit. Sho laughed softly against his bangs. "I still can't believe you only got a B- on that test. We studied for days."
A long moment of silence passed between them.
Jun pulled back a little, looking at Sho, confused.
"What?" he asked.
--
The bandaging itches, but they won’t let him take it off. But he peeks from time to time. On his left leg, the bandaging is wrapped from just under his knee to above his ankle. On his right arm, it’s been patched from his wrist to the middle of his forearm.
“Lucky,” the nurse with the mole over her top lip always calls him when she comes in to change the wrapping. He just rolls his eyes. He doesn’t feel particularly lucky when he’s healing from skin grafts and has a tube dripping fluid into him twenty-four hours a day. He can’t even piss on his own, and he’ll be happy when the catheter’s gone.
There’s TV here, but he doesn’t know Korean. There’s newspapers here, but again, he doesn’t know Korean.
The guy on the other side of the curtain can understand, passably. But his throat’s always so damn scratchy that talking to his roommate isn’t at the top of his priority list. He must have done a lot of screaming before he got here. But whatever they’ve got in the IV is making it all hazy. There are blood draws, and he’s got more needle marks marring his skin than a heroin addict.
He gets to walk to the window and back a few times a day, but the grafts are still healing. He can’t have much more exercise than that. But he doesn’t particularly enjoy the look of the parking lot outside anyhow, so the outside holds little appeal. The news reports are strange, like he’s in some kind of weird drama.
“Twenty million,” they keep throwing around. It’s the number his roommate keeps repeating out loud. Even at night, he hears the guy’s voice. “Twenty million.”
He tries to overhear the nurses when they chat in the hallway, but they’re always so quiet. All he hears is “timetable” and “United Nations clean up” and “rebuild” and it means very little to him.
When they wheel in his meal and more of that horrible watery jelly, the nurse with the mole is smiling. “You’ve got a visitor today, Lucky.”
He nods. The roommate’s sound asleep on the other side of the curtain. He’d rather be sleeping than have to deal with someone else staring at him like he’s some kind of miracle. Some kind of circus freak.
The doctor’s at the door, speaking to the visitor. There’s a long list of don’ts - he wishes he could hear what they aren’t allowed to say or ask. He doesn’t see why they can’t ask him. Weird questions beat getting poked and prodded and more needles.
The guy’s his age with a smile that lights up his whole face as he drags a chair over. “You’re looking better today. You were asleep last time.”
“Sorry,” he manages to reply, throat still hurting. It’s like he’s had to learn how to speak all over again.
He’s got a plastic grocery bag balanced in his lap. The guy’s legs are shaking in nervous tension or excitement, he can’t tell. But the bag is noisy, and it’s going to wake up the other patient.
“Ohno and Nino are going back tomorrow. I think they’ll stop in and say hi before their flight.”
He just nods.
“I’m not sure when I can leave. I mean, where am I going to go, right?” The visitor has a nervous, breathy laugh that seems oddly endearing. “No classes now, haha.”
“Right.”
The young man’s face grows serious. “Doctor told me we came back just in time. You don’t know what it was like, on that boat. Toma had to keep me from jumping in the water to swim back half a dozen times. We’re just lucky we picked up the broadcast. About the cure, I mean.”
This means very little to him, this talk of boats and broadcasts and cures. He’s a human guinea pig. All he knows is terrible hospital jelly and melodramatic Korean television that he can’t really see. He needs glasses. “Everyone’s calling me lucky.”
“You both are,” the guy says, glancing past him at the curtain. “Oh!” He digs through the bag, pulling out a small day planner that’s clearly seen better days. “They finally said I could bring this. It’s been in the containment or wherever. I told them they couldn’t burn it.”
He takes the planner, running his finger over it. “Thanks.”
“You remember it? You were always scribbling in it.”
“I was?” He opens it, seeing stains on several pages. Some are even stuck together. There are random things written on the pages. Addresses, names, even a recipe? “I don’t…”
“It’ll come back, right? I mean…”
The guy gets really quiet as he turns a few more pages. His head is starting to hurt, and his visitor looks really uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he tells the man. “For coming to see me.”
I just wish I knew who you were.
“They said only a few minutes. I’m sorry. I’d stay all day if you wanted.” The guy’s gaze is drawn to the curtain again. “He’s sleeping still?”
“Yeah.”
His visitor frowns. “Well, tell him I’m coming tomorrow. And I’ll bring him a whole bunch of newspapers. Any newspaper he wants.”
“Okay. I’ll let him know uh…” He shuts the planner and tries to smile. “I’m sorry?"
“Masaki.”
“Masaki,” he repeats. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, don’t worry, okay?”
Easier said than done. “Okay.”
Masaki shoves the empty bag in the pocket of his jeans and stands. “Tomorrow then.”
He watches him go. Oh well. A quick glance at the clock on the wall reminds him that they’ll be coming for a blood draw in ten minutes. It would be mean to wake the other guy up now, but it might be worse for him to get woken by a needle jab in his arm.
“Hey. Sakurai.”
Bed sheets rustle on the other side of the curtain, and finally the guy’s bandaged left hand pulls it open. “I was sleeping.”
“Yeah, sorry. But they’ll be in for vampire time soon.”
“Ugh,” his roommate grumbles, flopping back against his pillow. “Great.”
Using his voice for so long is going to get the doctor pissed at him. “Someone named Masaki is bringing you newspapers tomorrow.”
“Finally.”
He flips through the planner again while Sakurai hits the switch on the bed rail for the television. His eyes stop on a page, one of the last ones that has handwriting on it.
Was this why? Why there’s always that strange twist in his gut whenever the curtain is open and he sees the person in the other bed? Sure would be interesting once he got the full story - too bad the doctors couldn't tell him if his mind would ever catch back up with his body.
“Hey.”
Sakurai looks over. “Yeah?”
“Your given name…it’s Sho, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
A blush creeps into his cheeks, and he closes the planner, shoving it in the drawer next to his bed.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Chapter: 10/10
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sakumoto, Ohmiya
Rating: R
Warnings: Graphic violence, language.
Summary: Do you remember me? Lost for so long? Will you be on the other side? Will you forget me?
They left the department store in the afternoon.
Jun's whole world was a haze. He stared at the backs of the figures walking in front of him, just trying to keep one foot moving in front of the other. All he could think about was the rotting flesh of those they had already come up against- those he had been fighting for weeks.
He'd be one of them, soon enough.
The others were chatting in front of him, joking- trying to keep their spirits and energy up, and Jun couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't even make out words. There had to be a way to stop it, to quell it; maybe a way to eject it from his bloodstream, cleanse his veins again.
But the truth of his situation rang like a death knell every time his heels hit the ground, until he couldn't look away any longer.
Some time in- and Jun had no idea how long, there was a hand on his elbow. "Jun?"
He jumped instinctively. Not because of the adrenaline or his completely shot nerves, but because he was afraid- he was afraid of infecting Sho, too, who was looking at him with concerned eyes.
"Sorry," Jun mumbled, and deliberately side-stepped away from the other man.
The expression on Sho's face hurt more than the throbbing in Jun's shin did, making him choke on guilt all over again.
"Just tired," he said. "Just-"
His voice trailed off. Sho's hand fell back down to his side. And when Sho moved to catch back up with Nino and Ohno, Jun wanted to die faster than he knew he was inevitably going to.
Aiba looped his arm around Jun's shoulders a bit, and though Jun stiffened at the contact, he didn't pull away- he couldn't infect Aiba without bodily fluids, so he was a safe bet to collapse against.
"Are you okay?" Aiba asked. It shouldn't have needed to be asked- Aiba was still hurting, still mourning, and his grief was fresh.
"Sure," Jun replied, and the lie tasted like ash.
--
They hit the last of the small towns when the sun went down, and Toma found a house- it wasn't above ground, and they had to move shelves and furniture in front of the windows to secure it; even then it wasn't really all that safe, and two of them had to stay up at all times to keep watch. But it was something, and they could at least sleep.
Jun didn't sleep. He kept himself away from Sho, whose confused face made Jun's stomach twist, and curled himself into a ball near the wall instead, arms wrapped around himself. Even when Aiba's regular, heavy breathing settled over the room like calming waves, he couldn't find solace.
He would never find solace again.
He still had his memories, didn't he? He could still remember his past- his childhood. It stretched out like shadowed fingers, but it was there. He remembered the time his sister got angry and pushed him down, and he hit his head on the door. He remembered the first day of school, and clinging to his mother's hand because he was unwilling to go in without her. He could still recall graduation, and going to college.
He could still feel Sho's mouth hot against his own, and Sho's hands feverishly sliding.
A sob caught in his throat, and he had to swallow it down, biting on his hand to keep himself from making any noise.
Jun knew he couldn't get on that boat.
He'd agreed with Ai when she'd said they couldn't take the Infected out with them- he knew it, no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise. It was a fact, the cold, harsh fact that was going to tether itself to his ankle like a shackle.
Oh, god, what was he going to do?
He didn't know. As the minutes slowly ticked into hours, and the hours gave way to the rising sun through the blinds, Jun just stared at the palms of his hands lying against the grimy floor he was curled up on. His fingers would lose the flesh, his arms would decompose- and his mind, that would go first. He would lose everything that had made him who he was, everything that had shaped and sculpted and molded his life. He'd be just like a canvas splashed with the crimson of blood and smeared over so that only red remained.
Behind him, a body shifted, sighing- Sho. The sound wasn't of sleep; maybe Sho hadn't slept, either.
The sting of hurting him was keen, but it was the only thing to do. Jun couldn't follow him away from the country, not with the virus shrieking in his veins, marring his being.
He wished for a swift death- it had to be better than waiting for the slow moving axe-swoop to arrive. And he knew his wishes had gone unanswered when the others all began to stir and wake, and he pushed himself up with his palms flat against the cold floor to follow.
--
"Here," Toma said, pushing inside the half-rotted door to an old shack just off the docks. It reeked of salt- salt and fish, of the smell of the sea. Compared to the stench of rotting flesh, it was a welcome change. "Wait out here, and we'll talk to them."
Toma got snippy with little sleep, but Ai gave them all a half-smile as she followed inside.
And Nino turned, looking a little out of breath. "This is it."
There was a trill of anticipation in his tone. The others perked, and Jun just wished he could share in the sentiment. He stared out at the dock, at the boats anchored there, wondering which was the one that would take the others away- which was the one that he would watch sail off as he remained on damned soil.
There was a hand on his elbow, and this time, the fingers were insistent. Hard. They closed down tightly without remorse and immediately began tugging Jun away down the shoreline, past the rickety shack and around a corner where they were out of sight of the other three.
"What's wrong?" Sho asked, immediately, as soon as they were in the shadows.
Jun shrugged out of his hold, breath quickening. "Nothing."
"Bullshit," Sho snapped. "You've been avoiding me. Why?"
"I-" Jun started. He was prepared to deny it, but he couldn't- and he was no longer sure he wanted to. If Sho thought he didn't care, it would be easier to watch him leave. If Sho was angry and upset, Jun could let him go without a fuss. "I can't do this anymore."
A long moment, and Sho's eyes were wide. "What?"
"I thought I could," Jun barreled through, keeping his eyes just over Sho's shoulder. He couldn't meet the other man's gaze; it would break him, crack his defenses. "And I just can't. I'm sorry."
He swallowed thickly. "I- I don't want to be with you."
His hands were balled into such tight fists that his fingernails were digging into his own palms like tiny blades. And Sho just stared at him, stared at him without really seeing.
"You-" Sho began.
"Stop," Jun interrupted. "Just- nothing you can say will change this. I'm sorry."
It was getting too hard to breathe. Jun thought he would fall, collapse; slide down the incline to the sand and evaporate into the ocean itself. Everything was falling apart inside, and he was never going to be able to put it back together again.
"Jun! Sho!" came the cry from beyond the building's corner.
Sho took a shaky step backwards, almost looking like he would fall.
"Jun," he breathed, and oh, it was almost enough, it was almost enough and Jun wanted to take it all back-
"Hey!" the shout from the group resounded. "Guys, come on!"
Jun left Sho standing in the shadows, and he thought his heart was breaking. Toma and Ai were waiting by the other three- and none of them looked particularly pleased. There was an odd skip to Jun's breathing.
"Boat needs repairs," Ai explained. She glanced over Jun's shoulder at Sho, slowly rejoining the group with heavy steps. "We're leaving tomorrow."
Nino made an exasperated sounding noise, spinning and glaring at the sky. "We're so close!"
"Just one more night," Ohno said. He reached for Nino's hand unabashedly. "What's one more night?"
Everything, Jun thought, stomach dropping.
--
They stayed in an apartment that night that had been cleaned up a little; obviously by Toma and Ai's people. Jun wasn't sure if he was glad for it, or resentful at the kindness. The seven sat around watching Nino doing magic tricks with Aiba's deck of cards long after the sun had gone down.
"Remember what your card was?" Nino asked Aiba.
"Yes!" Aiba exclaimed, and then, after a moment, "Wait- wait. I- yes!"
Nino smacked Aiba's leg a bit with the hand holding the rest of the deck. "This doesn't work if you don't. Do you remember?"
"I remember," Ohno said.
"Me, too," Ai laughed. "Finish the trick."
How long before Jun forgot what magic tricks were? Or who Aiba was?
"Alright, alright," Nino said. He shuffled the cards, and cut the deck twice. He showed them all the cards- and his hands- and then turned back to Aiba. While flipping through the cards he hummed a little bit, a song that Jun didn't recognize. It sounded like music from a video game or something.
Beside Ohno, Sho was slumped forward, hands in his lap. He looked like his world was falling apart, like he couldn't find anything left to cling to.
He looked like Jun felt.
"Tada!" Nino said, producing Aiba's card. There was a quirk to his mouth, a cunning little smirk.
"Wow!" Aiba exclaimed. "That's amazing! When we get on the boat, will you show me how to do this?"
Nino snorted, re-shuffling the cards. "No, of course not." He grabbed Aiba's card back, ignoring Aiba's protests.
"Oh, come on," Aiba whined. "Jun, when we get on the boat, make him-"
"I'm not going on the boat," Jun said.
Everything in the room hit a screeching halt, Jun's breathing included. He hadn't meant to say that- he hadn't meant to say anything. But it was out there, and it was shrieking, and he couldn't swallow it back anymore.
Ohno laughed. He obviously thought Jun was joking.
"I'm not going on the boat," Jun repeated. "I- can't."
"Do you get seasick?" Nino asked, slipping the cards back into the box and closing it with a smart snap. "I do, and it sucks, but it's just the-"
"No," Jun cried. "Don't you understand me? I can't go."
There was a very, very long pause, and Ai let out a little gasp.
Aiba reached for Jun's hand. "No, Jun. No- that can't be. You're lying, why are you lying?" And Jun violently tugged his wrist out of Aiba's fingers, because he could taste bile at the back of his throat. They shouldn't touch him- they shouldn't even be near him. He was Infected; he was worse than dead.
Oh, god, he was worse than dead.
"I'm not lying," Jun said. He didn't want to look at Sho, but his gaze moved without volition. Sho wasn't even looking at him, was just staring down at his hands. Probably disgusted. He probably hated Jun and was disgusted with himself all at the same time.
"But," Ohno whispered, "how do you know?"
"Listen to me!" Jun all but exploded. "I'm not lying to you. I can't get on the boat- I got cut, okay? I was stupid, and I got cut, and- I know."
He fumbled with his pant leg, pulling the denim up to expose the bit of ripped shirt he'd tied around his shin. It had bled through the material from use, from walking on it, and most of the cotton was stained crimson.
The sob lodged itself in his throat and he choked on it, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "You guys, I know. I'm-"
He couldn't finish.
Nino looked disbelieving. "It's just a cut, you don't know anything."
"Did you see my jeans?" Jun laughed, mirthlessly. It hurt to do so, and he couldn't stop. "Did you see the blood I feel into? Do you know what it was from? The thing chasing me- I knocked a car over on it. There was blood everywhere, and it was all over my jeans, and my leg."
He just kept laughing like something was hilarious.
"I'm not stupid," he rasped. "Do you guys think I'm stupid? I know what this means."
"Jun," Aiba said, voice cracking.
"How much does it take?" Jun demanded, meeting Toma's stricken gaze. "How much does it take to infect someone?"
When the other man didn't answer right away, Jun slammed his hands down onto the floor. "How much does it take?!"
"A drop," Toma whispered.
More silence, and Jun's ragged breathing. "Did you hear him? A drop. That's all it takes- a drop. And I was covered in it with an open wound."
Ohno's eyes were wide. Nino was staring at the box of cards in his hand. Toma and Ai both looked upset, jarred, like maybe the thought it was their fault. Aiba's eyes were glistening. And Sho-
Sho wouldn't look at him.
"I need you to lock me up," Jun gasped into his hands. "I don't want to hurt anyone, so I need you to put me somewhere safe, where I can't. And lock it. Just throw away the key, okay? Get rid of it."
For a long time, there was no sound. Jun crawled to the corner of the wide living room, as far away from the others as he could get, and when he laid down there, his planner poked his thigh from inside his back pocket. It was like a reminder of everything he was going to forget- everything that was going to disappear.
"Just do it," he said, so low he wasn't sure the others could still hear him. "Don't touch me, don't come near me- just lock me up before you leave tomorrow."
Aiba was crying. Jun buried his face in his palms.
"Please. That's my last request."
He was exhausted. Everything was a blur. When he folded his arms over his face, wrapping them around his head, he could at least pretend that he was alone, and the gut-wrenching events of the next day were over.
He didn't know how long they stayed up after that, because all he could hear was Infected cackling against his ears.
He didn't know anything anymore, except that he was going to die.
He was falling.
But he couldn’t scream. Because if he did he knew he’d lost it, gone past that point nobody came back from.
He was disintegrating, losing the feeling in his feet, in his legs. There was nothing but sky and he kept falling, and there was no parachute. His arms were at his sides, and he watched himself start to break apart. It wasn’t rotting. That was strange.
It was like pulling each individual petal off of a flower, and he just watched, tilting his head back and forth to see one finger turn to particles on his left hand before seeing his thumb disappear on his right. He felt lighter with each passing second, and he closed his eyes, feeling the slightest stinging.
It was like tiny prickles, like having phantom limbs. They were gone. He knew they were gone even with his eyes shut tight. But he knew his fingers had been there. Air rushed around him, into his ears and mouth, a whoosh of pressure as he suddenly halted.
He tried to cough but couldn’t. His eyes wouldn’t open - maybe they’d disintegrated already. But where he’d been so light now there was pressure. Where his chest had been was just a building weight, like he was being flattened.
Get off, he thought. Get off of me. But struggling was near impossible - he had no arms, no legs to fight back with. The pressure was against his mouth, if he still had one, and heat raced through his veins. He was tangible and yet not at the same time. He wanted to claw at the warmth, to get it away from him, to just be able to keep falling as carefree as he had been.
He was dreaming, Jun realized. Clarity started to return as the pressure on him increased. There was a sharp pain by his mouth, jolting him from falling through the skies. He felt the hard floorboards under his back, but he could barely breathe. The pressure on his chest was another person on top of him, each arm pinned by the grip of another person’s hand.
The pain increased as he tried to breathe. Someone was on top of him. He was returning to consciousness, and someone was on top of him. He made a sound and someone’s - someone’s tongue licked his lower lip. Licked his lip where they’d just…bitten him?
“No,” he whispered, struggling. “What are you…”
His breath was stolen, the aggression replaced with a soft kiss, gentle trembling lips. He knew this mouth. Oh fuck, what had he done? What had Sho done?
All he knew was red in his vision, and with strength he didn’t know he had, he screamed and knocked Sho onto his back. He heard the whoosh of Sho’s surprise as the breath flew out of his lungs and the crunch as his glasses were crushed underneath Sho’s back. Jun didn’t know left from right, up from down as he moved, straddling the stupid, stupid, stupid…
“No!” he howled, fist moving without thinking. It made contact with Sho’s face, and Jun felt his knuckles split. “No!” It was too late - Jun could feel the blood on his lip. Sho had bitten him - he’d fucking bitten him, swapped spit with him. Sho was shaking underneath him, putting his hands up to cover his face. But Jun was elsewhere, punching and screaming. Did he know what he’d done? Did he have any idea what he’d done?
What seemed like an eternity had probably been seconds as he kept raining blows down, full of a rage he couldn’t control. And Sho was just lying there under him, trying to keep himself covered. There were hands on his arms then, pulling him off. And someone was being noisy, earsplitting. He realized as Aiba pulled him away from Sho that he was actually the one screaming.
“Sho!” Ai was crying, and Jun struggled against Aiba’s grasp until Toma moved over to help drag him away.
“What the fuck just happened?” Nino screeched.
Jun spat on the floor, and Aiba released him, jumping away from the infected blood that was now staining the floorboard. “He infected himself!” he cried, falling back until he hit the wall, sliding down onto his backside. “He…he…”
Sho was laughing, and the others stepped back, gave the both of them space. All Jun could do was stare in horror as Sho just laughed, tears streaming down his cheeks. Jun had punched him good, and blood was running down his nose, staining his lips.
Aiba was heartbroken. “Sho, why did you…”
“My parents are dead!” Sho cried. “My family is dead, Masaki! I can’t do this any more. I’m not like you. I can’t keep going any more. And I can’t get on a boat if Jun’s not on it too!”
Everyone was quiet, and Jun shook violently, wrapping his arms around himself as he felt the blood, his own infected blood, dribble down from his lip to his chin.
Sho looked him in the eye, still laughing like a man possessed. “I left you before. I’m not going to leave you again. I promised, didn’t I?”
“Stupid,” Jun mumbled. His glasses were gone, his vision was limited, and he hadn’t woken up fast enough to stop him. “You’re so stupid, senpai.”
Nobody knew what to say. What the fuck could anyone say? Finally, Toma cleared his throat. “Sun’ll be up in an hour or so. I’m going to go check on the boat.” Everyone decided this was a good idea, clearing out of the small apartment and leaving the two of them alone.
Sho stared at him, blood still trickling down his face. “I’d never forgive myself,” he said, voice a little off from the blow to his nose. “Never.”
Jun was overwhelmed. He didn’t know if he hated Sho enough to strangle him…or if he wanted to knock him back to the ground and fuck him until they both collapsed. He settled for something in between, spitting another mouthful of blood on the ground.
Sho struggled to his feet, shuffling over to hold out his hand. Jun looked at it, squinting, eyes transfixed by every finger, the faint blue veins, the fingernails bitten to the quick. How long before his hand, before every part of Sho was gone? Jun took Sho’s hand, bringing it to his lips. He pressed his mouth against Sho’s palm, knowing his infected blood was smearing against the pale skin.
But it didn’t matter. Sho had made his choice. His senpai ran his other hand through Jun’s hair, tugging gently at the strands. Jun closed his eyes.
They’d both made their choice.
--
Toma and Ai took them to a small building near the subway station made of red bricks.
Aiba- the only one who was really getting close to them anymore, and even he was walking a few meters away- stopped outside the front door, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Jun paused behind him, trying to still his rapidly pounding heartbeat. He still couldn't wrap his head around any of it- this wasn't how it was supposed to go down.
This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
"Jail?" Sho asked, quietly, when it appeared no one else was going to speak.
"It's the only place I could think of where you couldn't get out," Toma said. He didn't catch Jun's eye- none of them would. Everyone's gazes were pointed down at their feet, at the cracks in the concrete. "I know it's... weird."
No, it wasn't weird. Nothing was weird anymore- how could it be weird when there was a ticking time bomb over Jun's head? How could anything be weird when the only person he'd ever really cared about had just fucking infected himself, damning them both?
"It's not very big," Jun said.
Toma glanced over his shoulder at the building, and Jun thought maybe he could see the other man's arm shaking against the rifle leaning against his chest. "It's just the interim."
Their footsteps echoed when they walked inside. Every step only made Jun's heart sink lower and lower into his stomach- this was it.
Even though he knew it had been coming, even though he knew it had to be done, it still felt like a punch in the gut stepping inside the room and moving towards one of the cells in the back. They were just holding cells, rudimentary; not meant to be used for more than a few days.
But he and Sho wouldn't have more than a few days, would they?
Ai rummaged around in the desk near the cells, and produced some keys. "I- I'm sorry." She looked sincere, like maybe she was about to cry and the tears were just behind her vision, barely being held back. "I wish..."
"Boat will be leaving soon," Jun whispered. They could't draw this out. He wouldn't last; they needed to push him inside with Sho, and just lock the door. He wasn't sure if he could hold out otherwise.
And then Aiba was hugging him, arms tight around his shoulders despite everything, and he might have been crying into Jun's shoulder. He pulled back quickly- maybe he was nervous still, maybe he didn't want to accidentally make Jun cry as well. But his hands lingered on Jun's arms, and his fingers were solid.
"You're my best friend," he sobbed.
Jun's temples throbbed from the tears he was trying vainly to hold back. "You're mine, too, Masaki."
"Please," Aiba whispered. "This can't be the only way."
"They can't come with us," Toma said, but he didn't sound like he enjoyed having to say it. Aiba reached for Sho next, embracing him as well, a sob hitching a little in his chest.
Ohno started tugging on Aiba's sleeve, pulling him towards the door, and that was when the dam broke. Aiba reached for Jun, reached with outstretched fingers even as Ohno and Nino pulled him backwards. "No! We can't leave them here! We have to help them!"
Nino's face was set. "Can't help them now."
"Go, Masaki," Jun choked out. "Just- go, okay? Go and survive."
"Jun!" Aiba just kept shrieking, like a crazed madman, trying and trying in vain to struggle against the hold on his body tugging him back towards the door. And Jun had to tear his eyes away because if he didn't, he wasn't going to be able to stay. He willed his feet to move him into the cell against the wall, trying to block the sounds and scraping and Aiba's frenzied shouting from his ears.
Sho stumbled in next to him, trembling, as Aiba kept screaming. "No! We have to help! Jun!"
"Stop," Jun just pleaded, head in his hands. "Please, Masaki, stop..."
Ohno's gaze was calm, but there was the twinkling of moisture in his eyes- just at the corners, the edges. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Jun wouldn't have known what to say anything- what was appropriate? Thank you for getting us out of the safety center, even though this happened? Thank you for not killing us in our sleep even though it might have been better?
Toma shifted near the door, taking the keys from Ai's hand and giving her the rifle instead. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there- doing anything but what he was doing.
"This..." he started, and then seemed to be at a loss. He pulled the cell door closed, and the sound echoed through the chamber loudly. It almost hurt Jun's ears. The key slid into the lock with a note of finality that knocked the wind from his lungs.
"I know," Sho said.
"It's the right thing to do," Toma finished, lamely.
The lock clicked decisively.
"Take care of them," Jun whispered. "Keep them safe."
Toma nodded, and Ai gave them a watery smile, and when they turned away to walk out the front door, Jun let his head fall against the cell door. Everything was hot and bright at the edges of his vision, bitter in the back of his mouth. Regret, guilt, shame- they all boiled up and collided with each other, jumbling around in his chest.
Next to him, Sho shifted a little, soles skidding against cement floor.
"You were supposed to live," Jun said, and the words caught bit on his tongue.
Sho's hand moved until it was half on top of Jun's own, fingers curling around gently. "No. I wasn't."
There were footsteps in the entrance again, just when Jun thought he was losing control of everything completely. It was Nino, breathless and flushed, wearing an expression akin to- something Jun couldn't touch. Something he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to identify.
"We'll come back," Nino gasped, words coming out in a jumbled heap and mingled with the impending onslaught of tears. "We'll come back, you hear me? When they've got a way to fix it."
He looked shaken. He took one step forward, and then paused, apparently unable to move any further. "We'll come back for you."
And then he fled again, footsteps disappearing beyond the door frame.
For a long time, Jun couldn't move. He didn't move until Sho reached over to pull him in a little, hands soft and gentle along his jaw-line.
"I guess," Jun started, and couldn't swallow back the laughter that bubbled up into his throat, stinging, "this wasn't how I thought it was going to end."
How long before his fingers started rotting, starting peeling away to reveal bone?
"I know," Sho whispered. His fingertips swept across Jun's forehead, pushing away tendrils of hair. "But I promised. This was my choice."
Jun sighed, and sunk into the embrace a little bit. Sho laughed softly against his bangs. "I still can't believe you only got a B- on that test. We studied for days."
A long moment of silence passed between them.
Jun pulled back a little, looking at Sho, confused.
"What?" he asked.
--
The bandaging itches, but they won’t let him take it off. But he peeks from time to time. On his left leg, the bandaging is wrapped from just under his knee to above his ankle. On his right arm, it’s been patched from his wrist to the middle of his forearm.
“Lucky,” the nurse with the mole over her top lip always calls him when she comes in to change the wrapping. He just rolls his eyes. He doesn’t feel particularly lucky when he’s healing from skin grafts and has a tube dripping fluid into him twenty-four hours a day. He can’t even piss on his own, and he’ll be happy when the catheter’s gone.
There’s TV here, but he doesn’t know Korean. There’s newspapers here, but again, he doesn’t know Korean.
The guy on the other side of the curtain can understand, passably. But his throat’s always so damn scratchy that talking to his roommate isn’t at the top of his priority list. He must have done a lot of screaming before he got here. But whatever they’ve got in the IV is making it all hazy. There are blood draws, and he’s got more needle marks marring his skin than a heroin addict.
He gets to walk to the window and back a few times a day, but the grafts are still healing. He can’t have much more exercise than that. But he doesn’t particularly enjoy the look of the parking lot outside anyhow, so the outside holds little appeal. The news reports are strange, like he’s in some kind of weird drama.
“Twenty million,” they keep throwing around. It’s the number his roommate keeps repeating out loud. Even at night, he hears the guy’s voice. “Twenty million.”
He tries to overhear the nurses when they chat in the hallway, but they’re always so quiet. All he hears is “timetable” and “United Nations clean up” and “rebuild” and it means very little to him.
When they wheel in his meal and more of that horrible watery jelly, the nurse with the mole is smiling. “You’ve got a visitor today, Lucky.”
He nods. The roommate’s sound asleep on the other side of the curtain. He’d rather be sleeping than have to deal with someone else staring at him like he’s some kind of miracle. Some kind of circus freak.
The doctor’s at the door, speaking to the visitor. There’s a long list of don’ts - he wishes he could hear what they aren’t allowed to say or ask. He doesn’t see why they can’t ask him. Weird questions beat getting poked and prodded and more needles.
The guy’s his age with a smile that lights up his whole face as he drags a chair over. “You’re looking better today. You were asleep last time.”
“Sorry,” he manages to reply, throat still hurting. It’s like he’s had to learn how to speak all over again.
He’s got a plastic grocery bag balanced in his lap. The guy’s legs are shaking in nervous tension or excitement, he can’t tell. But the bag is noisy, and it’s going to wake up the other patient.
“Ohno and Nino are going back tomorrow. I think they’ll stop in and say hi before their flight.”
He just nods.
“I’m not sure when I can leave. I mean, where am I going to go, right?” The visitor has a nervous, breathy laugh that seems oddly endearing. “No classes now, haha.”
“Right.”
The young man’s face grows serious. “Doctor told me we came back just in time. You don’t know what it was like, on that boat. Toma had to keep me from jumping in the water to swim back half a dozen times. We’re just lucky we picked up the broadcast. About the cure, I mean.”
This means very little to him, this talk of boats and broadcasts and cures. He’s a human guinea pig. All he knows is terrible hospital jelly and melodramatic Korean television that he can’t really see. He needs glasses. “Everyone’s calling me lucky.”
“You both are,” the guy says, glancing past him at the curtain. “Oh!” He digs through the bag, pulling out a small day planner that’s clearly seen better days. “They finally said I could bring this. It’s been in the containment or wherever. I told them they couldn’t burn it.”
He takes the planner, running his finger over it. “Thanks.”
“You remember it? You were always scribbling in it.”
“I was?” He opens it, seeing stains on several pages. Some are even stuck together. There are random things written on the pages. Addresses, names, even a recipe? “I don’t…”
“It’ll come back, right? I mean…”
The guy gets really quiet as he turns a few more pages. His head is starting to hurt, and his visitor looks really uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he tells the man. “For coming to see me.”
I just wish I knew who you were.
“They said only a few minutes. I’m sorry. I’d stay all day if you wanted.” The guy’s gaze is drawn to the curtain again. “He’s sleeping still?”
“Yeah.”
His visitor frowns. “Well, tell him I’m coming tomorrow. And I’ll bring him a whole bunch of newspapers. Any newspaper he wants.”
“Okay. I’ll let him know uh…” He shuts the planner and tries to smile. “I’m sorry?"
“Masaki.”
“Masaki,” he repeats. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, don’t worry, okay?”
Easier said than done. “Okay.”
Masaki shoves the empty bag in the pocket of his jeans and stands. “Tomorrow then.”
He watches him go. Oh well. A quick glance at the clock on the wall reminds him that they’ll be coming for a blood draw in ten minutes. It would be mean to wake the other guy up now, but it might be worse for him to get woken by a needle jab in his arm.
“Hey. Sakurai.”
Bed sheets rustle on the other side of the curtain, and finally the guy’s bandaged left hand pulls it open. “I was sleeping.”
“Yeah, sorry. But they’ll be in for vampire time soon.”
“Ugh,” his roommate grumbles, flopping back against his pillow. “Great.”
Using his voice for so long is going to get the doctor pissed at him. “Someone named Masaki is bringing you newspapers tomorrow.”
“Finally.”
He flips through the planner again while Sakurai hits the switch on the bed rail for the television. His eyes stop on a page, one of the last ones that has handwriting on it.
Was this why? Why there’s always that strange twist in his gut whenever the curtain is open and he sees the person in the other bed? Sure would be interesting once he got the full story - too bad the doctors couldn't tell him if his mind would ever catch back up with his body.
“Hey.”
Sakurai looks over. “Yeah?”
“Your given name…it’s Sho, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
A blush creeps into his cheeks, and he closes the planner, shoving it in the drawer next to his bed.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”