Work Text:
I really didn’t like hospitals.
The smell the atmosphere, I disliked them all, but what I disliked the most was how during a stay, I couldn't see Onee-sama.
After being discharged, I originally thought I could escape that place, but who would’ve thought because of some other injuries, I would end up in another hospital room.
The doctor sat in front of me treating the wound in my right hand. Compared to the pain of when it had just been pierced through, now the pain of cleaning the wound seemed somewhat insignificant. Although it was well within the range of what I could tolerate, the occasional touches of the alcohol swab made me unable to stop my hand from trembling.
Pada.
The room door was opened from the outside. Onee-sama with some hesitation entered the room.
Even though I really did want to see her, this kind of embarrassing and helpless scene was also the last thing I wanted her to see.
“Onee… Onee-sama? Why don’t you go out first? When my wound is finished being treated, I’ll come find you.”
“No.”
“Could it be that Onee-sama misses me that much? Even for a little while without me, it’s not okay?” My tone picked up a tinge of teasing. If I couldn’t persuade her to leave, I could only provoke her.
“I’m not leaving.”
Ah, what unexpected stubbornness.
I still wanted to say something else to coax her to leave when she moved a chair and sat down next to me without hesitation.
...It looked like I couldn’t drive her away.
After she sat down, she stared at the bloody flesh of my right hand. In her eyes I could see the familiar guilt, torment.
I really didn’t want her to see this exhausted and battered version of myself, but because she was sitting on my right side, my right hand restrained in place, there was no way to block her gaze.
So I raised my left hand and in an awkward position, covered her eyes.
Hiss. The extra motion ended up involving my right hand, and I inadvertently moved it. The alcohol-soaked cotton swab slid across the entirety of the wound. The pain shot from the palm of my hand straight to my heart as the alcohol worked its way through the wound. Despite my best efforts to endure it, my hand started unceasingly trembling from pain.
“Stop moving!” She and the doctor spoke at the same time.
She pulled down my left hand and moved her chair to my left side, then she retook my hand.
A warmth started spreading through the palm of my hand and I stared blankly at our two hands clasped together, not knowing how to react. The doctor was still treating the wound, but the pain had already been thrown out of my mind and somewhere into the clouds. What I was paying more attention to was this person in front of me.
"It’s done," I was about to say something when the doctor interrupted me. "Don't let the wound touch water and remember to change the bandages and apply medication on time. Are there any other injuries?"
“No…”
“Yes,” she denied my denial, then turned her head to look at me. “Will you take it off yourself, or do you want me to help you take it off?”
...It had to have been Uiharu!
I didn't pay attention to the double meaning of her words as I thought about how I would teach Uiharu a lesson the next time I saw her, gritting my teeth and taking off my bloodstained white shirt.
When the wounds were all exposed to the air and were able to be seen by the eyes of the appraising audience, I heard her sharp intake of breath, and then she had turned away and was no longer looking at me.
See, this was the scene I had feared the most. An ugly body covered in scabs and scars, anyone who saw it would probably think it was disgusting, right? If it was seen by anyone else, it wouldn’t matter, but because it was her...
I didn't know what I could say to save my image. I just let the doctor take care of my wounds one by one. And even though it was very painful, I held it back and didn't make a sound, because it would have been too humiliating to cry out because of the pain.
After the doctor finished treating my wounds, he left the room.
In the hospital room, we were the only two left. She didn’t say anything, only stood up and helped me put on my shirt, one by one working through the buttons, and then slightly tidying it up, before sitting down opposite me.
She was still holding my hand, but her head was lowered, not willing to look at me.
“...I’m sorry.” After a long silence, I heard her utter an almost inaudible apology.
She traced the outline of my right hand with her eyes. “It must hurt a lot, right?”
“It doesn’t hurt, it already doesn’t hurt anymore.” Seeing how she was finally willing to talk to me, my response was eager and immediate.
“Liar…” Her gaze moved to my body, seeming to see through the white shirt to fixate on the wounds hidden underneath, “and those… they must also hurt a lot…”
If it was as usual and I had received such a frank and direct look, I would have definitely been unable to help myself and jumped on her and harassed her, but now, I couldn't get a single light-hearted word out, I just felt her eyes as if they were heartbroken and trying to see through me.
I thought of another possibility. Perhaps you don't find this broken body disgusting, rather, you feel sorry and pained for me.
Was that right? Could I be allowed to have this hope?
“I really am very unqualified to be your senpai. I didn’t protect you well and you were hurt,” she said, “but please, when you’re hurt, don’t hide it from me. I really am very worried, so much it feels like my heart is about to die.”
God knows how long it had to have taken for her, who could usually not be honest, to say those words. But hearing them, in my mind there was only one thought: I made her worry again.
I bit my bottom lip, thinking about how I should apologize. Right when I was about to say something, she pulled me into a gentle hug.
The sudden and unexpected embrace dissolved all my words. She had very carefully avoided my wounds, just timidly resting her head against my shoulder. The fragrance that came over me made me forget what to do for a while.
"At least in front of me, Kuroko doesn’t have to act strong. If you’re injured you can act spoiled, if it hurts you can cry out from pain. Even though I’m very unqualified, this unqualified senpai still wants you to depend on her.”
“Onee...sama.” My forehead rested against her shoulder. In this brief moment of being needed by her, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace.
I lifted my left hand and put it on her back, responding to her as gently as I could.
“Okay.”
I promise you. Because this warmth that belongs only to you, I don’t want to let go of it no matter what.