Chapter Text
You walk down into the infirmary. It is cold, the floorplates sting your feet, you wish there was a rug here. The air is sterile, there is no distinct smell, even from the flowers you wish you could have gifted here. The curtains are covering their injured forms, you almost don't want to open them. You don't want to face her, no, not yet. You can't bring yourself to, even though you willingly chose to come down here. Now it's too late to turn back. Irregular digital pulses bounce off the walls and into your ears, it's at least a comfort to know they're still alive.
It's crazy how humans came up with such technology. It's great isn't it? It's so good to have such smart and innovative people around. So good. So smart. So helpful. So loving. So loving. Loving people. People loving each other. People helping each other. Helping. Help. Help.
Help.
Help.
Help.
Help.
Help.
Help.
Help.
Thats what they sounded like. Thats what you made them scream. Thats what you did. You did this. Still feel like a threat to you? Are you still threatened and terrified?
Stop. Now's not the time.
Pull apart the curtain. It's almost too loud; you flinch. The last thing you want is to wake her. She wouldn't like that. Not from you. Maybe from him, but he's comatose too. He's the real hero here.
You fix the covers on her bed, your hands shaking. You don’t know if it is the cold or your fear. You pull them higher, covering her collarbones. Staring at the bandages on her body makes you wince. You don't want to imagine how she felt. But you have no choice. You feel terrible. But she definitely feels worse, don't compare.
Sit down. Your legs are starting to fall apart. The chair is cold like the floor. It will warm up soon. Watch her chest rise and fall slowly. Soon you start doing the same involuntarily, breathing along with her.
In
Out
In
Out
In
out
In
Out
I wonder what everyone's doing bachi
i hope they are eating good and are having fun without me oh what am i saying were all grieving and injured we cant celebrate just yet i still feel an unease in my body what do we do next whats next where do we go what do we do im scared im scared i dont want to do this again not again im sorry im sorry im weak im sorry i couldnt help let me turn back the time. Turn back the clocks bachi i want to go back please im sorry that i was greedy im sorry that i wanted power i dont want it anymore take it away from me take it away from me take it away from me take it from me the way you did from him can i pray one last time to you please help me im
Stand up.
Youre still standing. I cant move you dont have to but i want to i need to do something. You cant do anything
But i got to
You cant
But i got to
You cannot
But i want to
Theres that desire again. Push it away. Selfish desires hold no place here. They have caused too much already.
Why did you come here? Is it out of care or out of guilt? Do you believe coming here will absolve you of anything? Do you think its that simple? Pulling up some bedsheets? Standing there all useless?
Im not useless
Then do something
Do something
Do something instead of standing there like you always have all your life. No initiative from you. No assertiveness. You wish you were like her. Maybe thats why you like her so much.
Now look what you've done to her. You started the domino effect. It's all technical- LITERALLY your fault. Why does no one detest you yet, it's a mystery you're too stupid to solve. Maybe it is not a mystery. But you know for sure
For sure
Absolutely sure
Sure enough with your life
That at least she would.
What if she wakes up and sees you? Dont make a sound dont make the wrong move. What will she think? What is she possibly thinking? Do comatose people think? She wouldnt even know you were here, just go
go
go
go
What if she does know?
You still have time to
Leave
Run
Escape
Run
Move
Move your legs
Move them and dont leave a trace. You dont belong here you dont belong next to her dont give yourself any more regrets
Stop crying
Stop crying
Do not make a sound
Stop sobbing
She can’t help you now
Stop it
Stop it
There's salty stains on your glasses. You can't see clearly. You never really could. This reminds you of how humans are so creative, they just use their clothes to wipe their glasses. But you don't wear any. You wish you did. It would make you warm in this dreaded infirmary, and feel like a soft wooly hug.
Hug
Touch
Embrace
Touch
Touch me
Hold me
Hold me please
Tell me im okay
Tell me im good
Hold my hand please
Please
Tell me you forgive me
Please Wipe my tears for me
I want your warmth yet I won't ask.
I'd rather sit in uncomfortable silence with you
Constantly wondering. What you're thinking of me.
You take off your glasses and set them aside. She’s the only one, the only person in the world, who you feel can look at you with the naked eye. Your naked eyes. Naked, bloodshot eyes. But you don't want her to look at you, it'd be a disservice. An eyesore.
You brush your thumb against her hand. It's the closest thing you can get. Your hands are calloused and stained with gunpowder, compared to her soft pure hands. You want to hold them forever. You sniffle softly. You wipe your eyes with the bottom of your palms, digging into your sockets. The pressure feels nice. You gulp down into the pit that is your stomach. You let out a nasty exhale from sobbing silently for so long. Your throat stings and burns and you feel like your voice is nonexistent. You can't look at her face. Yet imagining it hurts more. It's like a permanent stain on your being. You can only picture the potential disgust on her face. You can't live with it. Take me. Take me with you. Take me back. Before it all started. Can i use my one last selfish desire to leave? Can i pray for an escape? Will Deaeru even come back to you? Will She whisper one last time in your ear like a mother comforting a child? Can you sit inside the throne of Her heavenly arms again? Sit pretty like a doll on Her shelf again? Have Her tell you you can do anything you want once again? And this time rid yourself instead of other people - as you are the threat?
Oh.
Oh god..
Hold it
Hold it down. This is a sterile environment
Push it down
Keep it down hold it hold it hold it.
Oh my god dont do it.
Please oh my god not here anywhere but here
Don't embarrass yourself in front of her.
Or anyone. Someone would have to clean it up. Hold it down hold it down dont let it escape.
Its crawling up your oesophagus and into your throat
Its bursting out of you practically dont let it win dont let your instinct win
But you want to so badly it would feel so relieving. You'd finally feel empty and free of sin. Get rid of the disgusting bile permeating inside your body.
But you can't. You won't let it. Keel over as long as you need to but for the love of god don't do it here. You wish there was a bathroom here so, so bad.
Loosen the knot, don't rip it apart. Breathe.
But sometimes… sometimes you wish you could just dissect and splay your guts out. They feel so heavy in your abdomen, always causing you pain. A vortex, black hole, sucking every emotion out of you. You wish to lay on a surgery table, and be inspected and vulnerable. Have her discover you, every inch of you.
Digging
her hands
into your
body,
gently like a doctor, like a mother. A ritual only you could ever
conceive of. The deepest most sincere form of intimacy
and closeness, learning
every millimeter
of your unique
anatomy.
Pink and
red, just like
you and Adukin.
Taking care of
you like no one
else would.
You trust her with
your burial.
Sit back down. The nausea is finally over.
How ironic how this little hospital made you feel so sick to your stomach and mind. And it's ironic how the caretaker becomes the taken care of. Youre not suited for this though.
Now just think of something else... Anything else…
The flowers here are red. They suit her so well. Picture them on her head, like a beautiful brooch or crown. She'd be the prettiest woman ever. She's the only colorful thing in this dull, cold room, in your dull, cold life. You take one flower out and put it against her forehead. But, will she still look pretty after the bandages are off? Would it be a constant reminder of your terrible mistakes? Of her terrible mistake- no, it wasn't a mistake. She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. She just wanted a job.
And you just wanted power.
That is different. Power isn't a necessity. I'm a selfish good for nothing numa that ruined everyone's lives and no one acknowledges it bachi. I want to be punished, why did it have to be her? Why did she have to suffer? Why her? Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why her?
Why not me.
Is this my punishment?
The red blood on my hands will always remind me of you.
You brush your lips on her forehead, and mumble softly as you leave:
"I love you so much. I wish we could’ve never met."