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Limping towards the exit, bleeding, was Makoto Tachibana. He had a makeshift bandage, made from cutting the lower part of his now dirty green summer, wrapped around his right leg. The bandages weren’t doing much as blood kept leaking out of his wound and damping the cloth.
He had the left side of his body against the wall to support the weight of his tired, injured body. As he got closer to the exit, he could hear wailing of police cars and ambulances’ sirens. The blue and red light flickering and shining through the large cracks of the wooden door that was once the main entrance to the university.
Aside from his leg, there were a few scratches on his face. Nothing too serious. His dark brown hair unkempt, covering the right side of his face. There were dried-up traces of tears on his cheeks. He had cried hours before — mourning for someone. Tonight had been long and hellish.
Two centimeters away from the door, he used the last of his strengths to push the door wide open. It creaked, almost as if it would break in that instant. Upon having himself out of the institute, Makoto took a deep breath of the chilly, late-night air — which was refreshing more than usual.
He could hear policemen and paramedics shouting, running up to him. Two of the paramedics came to him and aided him to the nearest parked ambulance. A policeman, gun’s out, asked him a question. He couldn’t understand the full sentences, as he was out of stamina. He caught one word — “monsters” — and he came to the conclusion that the policeman was asking about the gnarly things in the dark he escaped from. He shook his head, warning the man not to go in.
The paramedics took him inside the ambulance, laying him on the stretcher. One of them, blonde with light blue eyes, unwrapped the “bandage” and replaced it with an actual one after cleaning the wound. If Makoto had not been this hurt, he would have screamed. All he could do was letting out a soft whimper. At least, he was safe now.
“How’s he doing?” asked another paramedic, popping his face from the corner of the back of the ambulance. There’s recognition in his voice to Makoto. He had heard this person’s voice before.
“Bleeding wound on right leg. A few scratches on his face. Other than that, he’ll live,” the paramedic replied, getting the headrest up.
To much of his delight and relief, the paramedic asking about his condition was Sousuke Yamazaki. Makoto was supposed to have his and Sousuke's very first date tonight at 9 PM at a nearby fast-food joint. The burgers were fine. It was that the the place sat right in-between the university and the hospital Sousuke stationed at.
Sousuke climbed into the vehicle, sitting right across from Makoto. He could see Makoto was trying to speak, possibly to apologize about tonight’s misfortune about their date.
“It’s okay. We can do it later when you’re all better. No need to rush,” Sousuke reassured Makoto, his soft smile and comforting teal green eyes telling the injured man everything was going to be okay. Makoto nodded. So many things to say but not enough power to do so.
The other paramedic, buzz cut with brown eyes, got of out the car — seeing that it would be more beneficial for Makoto himself had Sousuke was in the ambulance with him. He patted Sousuke by his shoulder, telling him to look after this patient. “I gotta go in there. See if there’s anyone who needs me,” the paramedic said, smiling, and ventured into the university with a medical bag in his hand. He closed the door for them and signaled the driver to drive out.
From the small windows of the car, Sousuke saw the paramedic going into the university with the police force. As they drove away, the school became smaller and smaller in Makoto’s vision. He sighed, in relief, for he had made it out alive. Maybe there was someone in there who survived too. Maybe.
Sousuke grabbed a pair of medical gloves and put them on. He reached for Makoto’s hand, holding it firmly but not too tight. He smiled at him and Makoto smiled back as well.
The blonde paramedic in the car couldn’t help but to smile, joining in the celebration of life.
For the whole ride, Makoto and Sousuke didn’t say anything much — both of them equipped with the knowledge that the other of them wasn’t in a perfect condition to talk. They replaced words with motions. Sousuke would caress Makoto by his cheek and ran his fingers through the man’s hair. They looked at each other, never leaving one’s gaze for a single second. They held hands, as if they were telling each other words they would say.
I love you, Makoto. I love you, Sousuke.
“You know, Makoto, I’d consider this a date,” Sousuke chuckled, and so did Makoto.
The night had ended. Makoto would recover. He’d be reunited with his family. They’d share moments of tears and laughters. What happened tonight would become both a memory and a story to share with others.
And tomorrow would be a new day. A new dawn awaited.