Night 49: M81-M90 Hallway
[M85]All right! One pair of sweats and two pairs of underpants later, and Guybrush had an ingenious way to carry everything he needed. "Just one more thing," he said to himself as he wrapped the pants-sash over his shoulder like a beauty pageant winner. Grabbing his beloved shovel, he carefully slid the long handle through the loops provided by
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A bark of laughter escaped him as he sat up, hand over his mouth, as if he'd managed to startle even himself. Twice now Saki's death had been snatched out of his hands. The first time, Muraki had saved enough of him for that cold glass prison somewhere between life and death. This time, even if he returned immediately, there would be nothing to save. If Saki was cold now, it was because the fires of hell couldn't warm his blood.
The doctor's head lolled back, limp as a doll's. He stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes unfocused. Everything he had worked for was gone. Yet none of it mattered, ultimately. He was alive. It was time to begin again.
He fisted the sheet as he stood up, sweeping it aside carelessly. It was only then he spared the room a glance. It was unfamiliar and unremarkable save for what it lacked: equipment or monitors of any sort. He was wearing a uniform, but not one he recognized. Where was he? How could he have stayed here for the days or weeks it took the knife wound in his side to heal? He'd no real plans for the aftermath of Kyoto. No one had expected him to return this time.
Wherever he was, it was interesting that most of the furniture was bolted to the floor. He tucked his hair behind his left ear and located a pair of shoes and snatched his glasses from the desk as he passed. When he tried the door, it was unlocked, and the hallway wasn't empty.
He noted the room number and, bypassing a pair of bickering lovers, moved on into the next hall.
[to here]
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