Work Text:
His body trembling in agony, Tsukumo struggles to breathe as he huddles in the corner of the office, clutching his wrist and trying not to stare at his almost-certainly-broken finger—the sight of the horrifying purple color of his skin and contorted, swollen knuckle does nothing but make him feel sick. And Sugiura-shi lies motionless in the middle of the room, blood dribbling across his forehead, but as much as Tsukumo longs to rush over and hold Sugiura close and do his best to stop the bleeding, he can’t work up the courage to leave his hiding spot.
So, he continues to cower in the corner, praying their attackers won’t return and that his poor partner will wake up, and wishing he could be braver.