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“… aru…?” Someone's voice called to her from above, but she could barely make out the words. “…ot like you… Are-” Inexplicable irritation rose, and her hand lifted along with it, swatting away the black glove invading her space. The shadow drew back, and she lifted her head higher to squint at it. Ah. Right. And just like that, the irritation was no longer inexplicable. The blurry image of Tsurugi Kinjo came into focus. However, the delayed reasoning was just more embers to the fire. Why was it that she'd only managed to realize why she'd reacted after she'd already done so?
“You're awake,” Kinjo said flatly. There was a soft thump as he rolled his wheelchair off the thick rug below her desk. Right. The desk. She was at her desk, in her office. There was something she needed to do, but once again, she'd been interrupted. Wait. That wasn't right. Had she been asleep? What had she been doing before this? She hated losing even a fraction of her usual precision; the fog clouding her thoughts now was practically unbearable.
“Mekaru?” Kinjo’s voice was infuriatingly quiet. She didn't need his concern.
“What?” Mekaru sat up straight in her chair. The back was stiff and straight; perfect at keeping her awake during all-nighters in the office. (Of which, she'd knew she'd made use of too many times in a row.) Still, she hoped it would help her now, even if it had failed earlier. With one hand, she pushed her glasses back into place, and with the other, she drew several papers close. Her body moved without input, sorting documents and dropped pens in a way that seemed purposeful outwardly, but failed to do any real organizing. Internally, sparks lifted higher. Smoke fogged up every thought, leaving her mind starved for oxygen and insight. Worst of all, that man was still staring at her. Scarlet eyes watched her much too closely as she sorted half the inventory forms into a folder labeled discard and half amongst the intelligence reports meant for Kinjo’s desk.
“Do you need any help…?” Scarlet eyes met glaring amber.
“Of course not,” she replied tersely. Hearing that from him of all people was almost offensive. The two of them were alike when it came to independence. She'd come to understand that he disliked unprompted requests like this himself, so why would he think she'd accept such a thing from him?
“…Very well.” The tense stalemate broke, and Mekaru was satisfied to see Kinjo’s posture shift back a bit. His head tilted slightly, lowering his hat further over his face. By now, she knew very well what it looked like when he was backing down. “I just came to tell you we moved the meeting up to this afternoon…” The man's words faded out a bit. For some reason, she was still having a hard time staying focused. It was only once Kinjo’s gaze turned hard that she realized she'd taken too long to respond.
“Got it,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.
“Are you sure?” This was like nails on a chalkboard to her. Even at the best of times, there was friction between them. Sometimes, it was a satisfying conflict that sharpened them both, but today, she had no patience for him. Her headache was grinding down her tolerance, and besides, she still remembered the handful of times either Otori or herself had been refused after offering to help Kinjo with his wheelchair or accompany him to an appointment. They were much the same in that regard; only accepting help when it became absolutely unavoidable, much to Otori’s chagrin.
“How much longer are you going to keep hovering?” Mekaru didn't justify that question with a response. “We both have work to do.” She watched him hesitate for long, awkward seconds, but it didn't take long. However, Kinjo’s retreat brought her no satisfaction. The sound of the door closing as he left just felt hollow. That feeling only worsened when, not two minutes later, her headache returned in worse force. Whatever foggy sorting she'd been attempting fell aside, and her consciousness followed soon after. Mekaru didn't hear the sound or feel it as her body sank to the desk with a quiet thud. The impact just echoed around her still and empty office, completely unheard.
“Rei?!” That was a foreign sound. When was the last time anyone had called her Rei? “Can you hear me?!” Another rude awakening, then. What was all the fuss about this time? Otori sounded almost… panicked. All at once, Mekaru returned to her senses. Her eyes shot open, and she was met with a pair of violently green eyes staring fearfully down at her. “Oh, thank goodness,” Otori released a long and wavering breath. His eyes were a bit teary. “Don't do that ta me again.” There was pressure against her, and Mekaru realized slowly she was on the floor, lying half-collapsed into Otori’s lap. His hands were still tight around her shoulders, but she didn't pull away. It felt… nice.
“Come on, let's getcha up,” Otori knelt, then stood up, allowing her to use him for support as she followed suit. “What happened…?” They moved quickly into the hall. Mekaru realized she was being guided off to get medical attention, but surprisingly, she suddenly didn't care much about being dragged around like this. She tried to answer, but nothing came out but an embarrassing mumbly groan. Otori’s body stiffened as hers became boneless. “No, no, don't do that, stay with me,” he sounded scared. It reminded her a lot of the sniveling schoolboy he'd been during those first days inside the killing game. She hadn't seen a hint of that boy in a long time. He'd grown into someone much more capable, someone worth talking to, and yet, sometimes, she missed seeing that side of him. Sometimes, she worried the world was making him more like them, and that one day, he'd stop crying or smiling, too. “Mekaru, ya gotta keep going, we need to...” Everything blurred out again, and before she realized she'd passed out again, she was waking up on the floor with Otori knelt over her and the shadows of a few others surrounding them.
“Mekaru, please don't move yet. It's alright.” She couldn't really do much to respond to Ando’s words. The most she could manage was a sigh, and a faint nod. “...How long has it been?” The doctor’s voice was steady and calm as he checked her over.
“I'm not sure,” Otori fidgeted nervously beside the doctor. “She never came to the meeting, so…”
“I informed her of the time change about three hours before,” Kinjo had his hands crossed over his lap over his hat and was watching them from a bit further away. He paused a bit before continuing. “...She was asleep on the desk when I entered, and seemed out of it as we talked.” Before Ando could reply, someone else interrupted.
“And you just left her like that?!” Outrage brightened Otori’s emerald eyes. Everyone fell silent immediately. Someone standing next to Kinjo moved a little closer, black boots shuffling stiffly. Mekaru hadn't noticed them before, but she could guess who it was. Kinjo’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked at a loss for words for a moment. Mekaru was shocked too. She couldn't remember the last time Otori had raised his voice at the Director, of all people.
“…I asked if she needed help, and she asked me to leave.” The Director answered without much emotion. His voice was a bit quieter and slower than usual.
“I…” Otori’s shoulders lowered, and he sighed. “Sorry, I know that ain't gonna help.” Kinjo gave him a faint shake of his head. Mekaru thought she heard him mutter something about it being fine or there being no reason to apologize.
“Just so.” Ando interjected, sounding more than a little awkward. “I could use a hand getting to the infirmary.”
“Do you need the emergency response team?” Kinjo asked quietly, fingers hovering over a handheld radio clipped to his chair.
“It should be fine. She has a fever, but there's no reason not to move her. If you two would help me-” Before Ando could finish speaking, or Iranami could take a step forward, someone else leaned down closer, and everyone else quickly moved aside. Mekaru blinked hazily as Otori lifted her up into his arms. She didn't have the energy to get angry about it. Instead, Mekaru just let herself go limp. She concentrated on the rhythmic thud of his footsteps, and the soft feeling of his scarf against her neck and shoulder. For once, she let someone else do the work. Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to rest for a while.
The next day, Mekaru’s sharpness had mostly returned, even if her head was still a bit foggy. They hadn't yet totally ruled out everything yet, but the most likely cause of her symptoms was extreme overwork. That had meant a lot of stern words from Ando to sit through. Mekaru sighed. She couldn't deny it exactly, but that didn't mean she appreciated being lectured. Even Otori had joined in with his concern. When Kinjo came to check on them, they had started on him too, which improved Mekaru's mood a little, at least.
However, now the room was quiet, as Mekaru had been left to rest idly in a hospital bed by herself. The silence was deafening, bringing with it several familiar ruminations and old memories she would have preferred to cover up with work. However, her requests for even just her laptop had been turned down. The fogginess had disappeared by now, and the headaches and fever had died down, but apparently her only order for the next two days was bed rest. She would have fought more, but in the end, the look on Otori’s face had stopped her in her tracks. So now, here she was, lying uselessly in bed, surrounded by flower arrangements Otori had somehow produced almost immediately.
Some of the lilies were sickenly sweet-smelling, but the colors used for each arrangement were shockingly subdued. Dark red tulips and curved branches so dark they looked almost black made up one arrangement’s base, with a cacophony of dull orange alstroemerias and amber daisies with a crown of orange, yellow, and red lilies filling the space above. The more Mekaru studied it, the more she realized that the blend and placement of colors gave off the illusion of fire, down to a handful of ‘embers’ made by two branches of tiny amber wildflowers. In truth, she adored it, and had been staring at it all day. Secretly, she was amazed Otori had been able to arrange something she adored this much when even she had no idea she'd have liked it until it was right there in front of her.
Was it a sign?
There was a knock at the door, and the man himself stepped through the door soon after, as though she’d summoned him just by thinking. Naturally, he’d been here multiple times yesterday, and he hoped he’d stay today, too. She wasn’t used to being cared for, but his presence made this whole thing slightly more bearable.
“Heya,” Otori said with a soft smile. “How are ya doing?”
“Extremely bored,” Mekaru sighed, sitting up bit more in bed and moving over so he could sit next to her. For once, he sat right down without any hesitation or nervousness beforehand.
“Good,” he said, then corrected himself. “Well, not good, but it’s good that yer restin’ even so.” Mekaru sighed, and turned her face away.
“This turned into a far bigger deal than it should have been.” She watched him set down a mug of tea and what appeared to be a bowl of softly steaming pumpkin soup. “There’s no need to do everything you’ve been doing.” Since she’d fallen ill, Otori had been showering her with attention; bringing her books to read and cups of her favorite tea throughout the day… he’d even shown up last night before bed with one of his huge, chaotic quilts with applique teddy bears and suns to go over the hospital bedsheets.
“I don’t mind,” he said cheerily. “I like doin’ it, and besides, there’s nothing wrong with needing some help every now and then.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Mekaru responded flatly. She didn’t need anything.
“You aren’t perfectly fine,” Otori frowned at her, fiddling with his long sleeves. “You scared me, Rei.”
“… ” She didn’t know how to respond to that. His face was too sad. “I’ll… be more careful in the future.” She met his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Otori gave her a small, sad smile. “It’s not like ya meant to. I just… I don’t like this kinda thing. Finding you like that… I know yer okay now, but…”
“I know,” Mekaru replied after a beat of silence. She stared out the window, lost momentarily in the past. “When we found that idiot cop lying on the floor, I couldn’t help but imagine that damn bear’s voice coming through the speakers again.” Her friend nodded, but she saw something like hesitation in his expression. “Spit it out, Otori.”
“Well… yeah, that’s part of it,” he began slowly. “It’s hard… not ta think about it, yeah,” fingers drifted to a familiar pair of goggles. “But it’s not just that.”
“Oh?” Mekaru lifted a curious eyebrow. Now this was interesting. Otori seemed to be steeling his resolve as he went from touching his hat to taking several deep breaths.
“I was scared,” Otori’s voice trembled, and Mekaru was once again reminded of the boy she’d once known. If she’d met that boy now, she wondered if this version of herself would have been kinder to him. “Seeing ya like that…” Mekaru just nodded mutely. “I really care about ya, Rei.” Emerald eyes bored holes into the floor. “I don’t wanna have to keep going without ya.” His hand drifted to his keepsakes again in an almost protective gesture.
“I don’t want to lose anyone else either, Teruya.” Mekaru said quietly. Otori’s face snapped up, and his eyes widened with surprise. He caught his breath for a moment before continuing.
“It’s… yeah, but…” Otori twisted the ends of his scarf nervously between his fingers. “Yes, that too, but, but when I saw ya there, I couldn’t stand knowin’ there were things left unsaid, and, and-”
“Take a breath, and collect your thoughts.” Mekaru spoke with the firm kindness a teacher might use towards a student. Otori nodded gratefully, and did just that.
“I really care about you, Rei,” he said softly. “I like you- no. I love you.”
“… ” This by itself was enough to steal all of the verbose professor’s words away.
“Did I…?” Otori slowly started to look nervous again.
“No.” Mekaru replied quickly. “Not at all.” She stared down at her hands, unsure if what she was feeling was the fogginess from before, or something else. “It was the right thing to say.” Otori brightened again, to her relief. “I love you too, Teruya.” With a sigh of relief, Otori relaxed again, and sunk back on his palms.
“I’m glad,” he said with a nervous laugh. For a long while, a comfortable silence fell between them.
“How did you know I would like those flowers?” Mekaru asked quietly after they’d both let it sink in.
“You liked ‘em?” Otori smiled with that stupid, charming grin she’d come to know so well. “I dunno. It just made one that reminded me of you, that’s all.”
“They’re beautiful.” Otori seemed to glow at her words.
“So are you.” He whispered shyly.
“How poetic.” She teased back, but there was no bite to her words this time, and he just laughed, all sunshine and rainbows. It made it hard not to want to move just a bit closer, and the moment she did, Teruya dove in for a bear hug. Usually, Mekaru would have pushed off such gestures. But since it was him, she slowly wrapped her arms around his back, and pulled him in close. “Thank you, Teruya.”
“Anytime,” he replied softly. By now, he’d already wormed his way closer to her heart. It was much too late to go back, but Rei wouldn’t have it any other way.