Chapter Text
Never once had it occurred to you that time was anything but yours. In fact, it always seemed to be the other way around. From that very moment ten years ago, your cognizance became monopolized by that sole fact; there was no way out of this fool's game and everyone knew that, however, your game was incited by another's conduct in which you wilted under its presence so candidly it was as if a second thought never occurred to you. Amidst this little phenomenon was a deposit of pivotal proceedings, ones that dictated your future, influenced by your past, materializing in the present; motivations had all derived from the tribulations annexed to your prerogative now nothing but ghostly evocations. It was as though you were stuck between a barrier of nothingness and a latent existence, somehow working together to achieve a feigned harmony where you just barely lived on...
You weren't in your own world, or time, or even the existence of your very own awareness, you were in the locus of everyone else. And it was funny...while you acknowledged this very dilemma, you were assisted with nothing, nothing at all; so in that cycle you were left stranded with, things became consistent as all you were able to do was watch. While everyone else lived their lives with such simplicity, there was no warning about how you felt, about how you were stuck in this never-ending contraption, just no care in the world about who you were. None at all.
At least, that was what it felt like.
It was an hour or perhaps even two in which your conscience adjusted to its wake from slumber and your eyes finally opened against the imperceptible cast of sun that captivated the entire room. Turning on your side, your right hand slithered underneath the freshly laundered pillow and your eyes focused on what was becoming of the world beyond the subsidiary framework working in coexistence with the confinement of the room. You wondered how long it would be until the nurses haled you out of the room for a moment of placidity from the disposition of medical assistance fettered all over your body once more just to cosset you until it was annoyingly overbearing.
As much as the thought of being withdrawn from your bed contented you, there was no escaping the wrath of what lay beyond the safeguard of the precedented aid. A small sigh was met with the more pure variant of atmosphere you had been impelled to wont, the lingering smell of antiseptics and sanitized machinery etched into the basis of your olfactory receptors. It would never leave, much less dispel from your mind and memory, even if you were to break away from this era of your life.
Certain nurses didn't dare say it to your face but after two long and tedious years, they knew the next time you were to leave this hospital permanently, it would be in a casket. From the initial day you were brought here, it didn't take long to assimilate and shoulder that outlook on your own terms. It was what any other person, possibly even some other seventeen-year old, would have resigned to at that very moment as well. No one could blame you, really. The Earth proffered her contrivances to the receivers in such an unfair way, that was all there was to it.
Knock—
Knock—
Knock—
With your body having jolted up, the pivot of your given heeds was what was to emerge in your field of vision in these next few awaiting seconds. Undeniably there were two pairs of footsteps, two pairs of footsteps that you had memorialized the melody of so that a fabrication of alleviation could help with the isolation you had never had a choice but to succumb to.
It had become a routine for quite a while now to wake up just a little while before the nurses would arrive for breakfast time and so that they could present other commodities for this assembly as well. This meaning that they had to deliver your daily dosage of medicines, once before breakfast and later on again after dinner.
"Rise and shine," one of the nurses sang, leaving a slight extension to the word against her tongue. On the other side of the curtain was a spectral shuffling and a disembodied groan, no doubt coming from a boy.
That's right...it was just the prior day's evening when this boy had been stationed just athwart of you and your bed, the curtain acting as nothing but a counterproductive enticement of wanting to know in relation to what lay beyond it, all the more riveting was overhearing the nurses talk about how he was the same age as you. Duly noted was the four adults and five children whom you had been bound to share this room with in the past, never once had there been anyone your age. But now...finally, your pique subdued any sense you had in the moment and oddly enough, it didn't satiate your pallet.
Oh, how long ago had it been since you felt this eager?
"Good morning, Mr. Sano! I'm Shizune, one of your nurses for the time being, and his is Sakura, your other nurse. Any questions you have or any requests, just ask one of us!" even if there was little indication to what was transpiring distanced beyond the blue polyester, hearing the familiarity of such words brought the feeling part of it all to submerge; a ticket down the indulgence of the past surfaced to your memories from only a mere two weeks ago when the most recent coalescence was formed between you and an elderly man who had left only a week-and-a-half after his arrival.
This was usually how mornings went when someone new came along, of course with all sorts of different nurses. But Sakura was...someone who had been with you from the beginning.
She was your nurse from day one, the sole nurse who continuously cheered you on from the sidelines, regardless of whether or not the finish line only seemed to elongate just for things to momentarily conclude with your rebound back to the start. A crippling process, indeed, but despite all of the endeavors and hardships, she would forever be an advocate of yours. Until the day came where her signature implemented the culminating status of your life on a death certificate, she would forever be the shadow that backed you from the moment your awareness of such conditions came to be.
By now both nurses should have concluded with replacing his IV bag and setting down his breakfast, amongst other obligations. It wasn't long before their commissions were set onto you. "And good morning to you too, Ms. [last name]." Rolling a service cart was Sakura, a meager smile mobilized against her colored lips as she proposed a small wave. Succumbing to her charm was easy and you were never the only one. Often times the older male patients could be seen—preferably heard—flirting with the pink-haired nurse.
"Your hair looks nice today." Although not much could be deducted from your usage of tone, she knew how your innermost mechanics worked.
"Thank you, [name]. Look at you, you're glowing this morning!" lie. It didn't take a mirror to know what exactly would be reflected upon it, your declining health said otherwise. Alas, a pretty smile was given in exchange for her own kind initiatives.
"See [name], what did I tell you?" having finished up tending to the patient across from you was Shizune. Even though you were unable to see her there was no doubt she had been smiling in retaliation. "The more you eat regularly, all the more better you'll look!" looking was not the same thing as feeling, you wanted so badly to tell her. Complete contradictions to each other the way inside is to out, however their coordination could not be overlooked. You supposed that was what differentiated the two pieces of figurative vernaculars.
Sakura sat down your appetizer of water and a variety of different colored pills in front of you while the main dishes were set to the side: a bowl of rice with an omelette perched atop it, with another bowl containing soup sitting aside it with a cup of tea to finish the meal off. To have had this spread at least twice a week for the last two years of your life, saying things got a little bland was a complete understatement. Still, you gave the woman your pleasantries.
"You slept good?" already having dug in, you nodded and continued to satisfy the still detectable hunger. "Good, that's really good. Any pain throughout your body? No coughing up blood or trouble breathing?" persisting with the gestural communication was enough for Sakura as she prepared her equipment to check on your vitals.
"My, my, you've healed up rather quickly! In any case, you've had many visitors try to come and see you, Manjiro. Visiting hours don't begin until nine so if you'd like, I could send them all in once you've finished up since your condition seems to be bettering by the hours." Manjiro, that was his name was it?
You wanted just a glance at this Manjiro Sano boy. Maybe he...could be an acquaintance of yours.
"You should befriend him," the distance between you and your nurse was enough for a low whisper to attain contact with your ears all so there would be no outside perpetrators listening in. "He's cute, [name]! If I'm being honest, I thought he was a girl at first because of his long hair but still, I think you two can still be friends." Sakura nudged you slightly as her attention shifted to the cuff around your wrist.
"Maybe...but I'll just observe for now. Plus, I doubt he'd be staying for long anyway." Turning your head towards the curtain left of you, it gave prominence to your rising thoughts. No matter who came and left, it was just a habit of yours to try and befriend them, even if they had no interest in a seventeen-year-old who was dying. It was the most rerouting coping mechanism there was, like confirmation of your accepted fate, but it wasn't as if there were many more options regarding it.
But he was your age, was he not? Someone who could understand and narrate their own affinity of upbringings. A person that shared a likeness to the undertaking of being a teenager in this day and age, in your own time and denomination. Maybe that was why there began this part of you which rioted; deterring from the initial idea and down a path of bitterness, likewise a self-destruction of sorts which, from an altering prospect, could ultimately be labeled as jealousy.
Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy...
Such a distasteful word.
"If you need anything else, all you have to do is use the button on the remote controller attached to your bed, alright? Just take it easy for the next few days and try not to persuade your limits, even though your body is healing at an almost unbelievable rate, you're still human and your body still needs rest. That concussion of yours is still a problem, though. Anyway, I'll give you some time before I send your visitors in. I'll check up on you again in a few hours." Shizune departed before Sakura yet they were both gone before you knew it.
Knowing all that you knew now didn't push you any further with contacting the boy. There was no denying your coexistence alongside his but in spite of that silence endured on both sides. Even if you weren't expecting him to speak out so casually it didn't help to justify the lack of emission. Not even a shuffle or sniffle could be heard.
That only brought about more inquiries, especially as to why he was here in the first place. A concussion pertained to that undoubtedly but it couldn't have been all, what kind of person was he exactly to heal as fast as he was doing right now, and what sort of situation could he have been in to receive especially distinct injuries of the sort?
Maybe, just maybe, you would talk to him soon enough. Might it be today, tomorrow, or even a day proceeding beyond that, it was now a newfound implementation that was to be executed following the outcome of having cultivating objectives conjoined with past vistas. Its commencement was just a matter of time now.
When it came down to it, nothing could have prepared you for the screened bodies only detectable by their associating voices. There were so many of them—voices by both males and female that were contemporary to the ears, the tune adapting to calibrate the sudden establishment within the current dwelling. It had been so long since you had heard this many voices concocted together...and often times whenever it did exceed the limit of more than two or three, it was never anything good. Ever. It wasn't difficult to notice the indentation of your mood.
"Finally! Those damn nurses wouldn't let us see you yesterday. They said something about closed visiting hours, or some bullshit like that."
"Boss! I'm so glad that you're alright!"
"Oh Mikey, how are you feeling? Did you eat already? How's your condition?"
"Bombarding him with questions isn't gonna help him, Emma—"
"Give him some space you guys. Crowding him isn't going to help either, let him talk on his own accord."
So many things going in one ear and out the other...it was hard to take in this information and even harder trying to keep track of the names being thrown around by the other non-disclosed pieces of conversation.
"Ah, were you all worried about me? Sorry about that, I'm all right though." A honeyed laugh, soft and tolerant to its surroundings, all the while undemanding benevolence catered throughout the entirety of the inflicting vessel. And so this was the long-awaited voice belonging to the famous Manjiro Sano, who also supposedly went by Mikey? "Aw, did Takemitchy not bother to show?" humoring himself, the boy let brief giggles delight his words.
"Nah, he said Hina's mom invited him out somewhere." The deepest voice of them all, that much you could start to pick up on continuing your analysis.
"That's too bad, I was hoping to get a good laugh at seeing his messed up face!" Manjiro's laughter escalated, garnering a few others as a reaction.
"Y'know, I'm kinda surprised he didn't end up in the hospital too. His face was all sorts of fucked up when I last saw him, but you know how Takemitchy is."
"Hey you guys, now that I think about it I don't remember the hospital rooms being this big last time I was here. What's behind this curtain anyway?" at that moment the curtain was jerked to the other side, leaving almost no time for recoupertion.
Oh dear...