Freezing - Part II
There was no answer from the other side when Akihiko knocked. He frowned, tried again, and then turned the doorknob. The door opened with ease and Akihiko entered slowly, hesitant.
"Hiroki?" he called, looking around. The hall was empty, and so were the kitchen and living room. Finally he spotted his friend in his bedroom, lying fully-clothed on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. Akihiko figured his friend was probably sleeping. A quick glance at his watch told him he had two more hours until he'd be able to visit Misaki, so he decided to stay around and wait for his friend to wake up. If he knew Hiroki as he claimed to, then his sleep was probably troubled.
He sat down next to the brown-haired man and watched as the frown on his face deepened as he mumbled incoherently. Akihiko smiled tenderly, noticing how sweat made his locks of hair to stick to his forehead. With his right hand he brushed them slowly, tucking them behind Hiroki's ear. When he was about to remove his hand, his friend's hand shot up quickly and caught it, holding it limply. "Nowaki…" his friend breathed slowly. "…nd…cold…"
Akihiko thought his heart broke.
A tear slipped from one of his friend's shut eyes, and he woke up with a start, head shooting up quickly to gaze with wide, hopeful eyes at his visitor. Akihiko watched sadly as the hazel eyes narrowed, mirroring unfathomable sadness as a dry sob escaped the assistant professor's lips. "You're not him…" he said quietly.
"Hiroki…" Akihiko whispered. He grabbed his friend's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Hiroki tried to resist at first, trying to push the visitor away, but after a few minutes he calmed down, allowing hot tears to drop on Akihiko's blue shirt and stain it. Akihiko shushed him, patting his head slowly.
"He's gone," Hiroki choked out from between his sobs. "I-I never told him goodbye, I n-never told him s-so, so much, I-" but then he couldn't speak anymore, fingernails digging into Akihiko's back.
Akihiko kept on sitting there silently, hands running down Hiroki's back until the latter one fell asleep in his arms after what seemed like a very long time. Akihiko sighed deeply and laid the man down on the bed and straightened his hair. "…waki…" the man mumbled again. But this time he didn't wake up. Thin fingers brushed against is own and the brown-haired man breathed in deeply, shuddering. "Your hands… cold…"
Akihiko bit his lower lip. He turned his head to the side and noticed a crumpled photograph on the drawer. He picked it up and stared at it with interest. It was a picture of Kusama-kun, with his black hairs and blue eyes, smiling widely, and next to him there was a very flustered Hiroki. Akihiko wondered briefly where it was taken. Hiroki was never a fond of photographs. Something told him that it was probably the only picture of his lover that Hiroki had.
He sighed deeply and put it back down. "I'll be back," he said finally, turned around and left the apartment, heading towards the hospital.
*
Akihiko stood outside of the hospital, smoking slowly, waiting for the clock to strike two - the hour in which he'd be able to meet his beloved. Takahiro told him he won't be able to come today, and Akihiko was quite grateful for that, really, because he didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself from kissing Misaki right there on the spot.
Two cigarettes later Akihiko entered the huge building, hands tucked deep in his pockets, eyes hard. He passed the small, useless flower and chocolate shops in the entrance, turned right towards the elevators and up to the fifth floor.
A nurse at the counter directed him to the correct room. He walked slowly, watching as the numbers on the doors went up. Those were shared rooms, he figured, and he told himself to make sure to use some money and move his Misaki to someplace more private.
Room 523 was at the end of the hall, next to the emergency exit and the door to the large balcony. Akihiko entered, peeking from behind the curtains, disappointment falling over him whenever he saw patients he wasn't looking for.
Misaki's bed was at the end of the room, next to the window. Akihiko was thankful for that. He grabbed a plastic chair and sat down, staring intently at his beloved. So many tubes were coming out of him that it was almost scary, both of his hands were bandaged, his right leg was in cast, and when Akihiko looked closely he noticed blue marks on whatever piece of skin that was available to the eye.
Akihiko breathed in a shuddered breath and closed his eyes momentarily, taking in what he just saw. Takahiro told him it was pretty bad, that Misaki would probably take months to recover completely, but at least he was alive. There were at least one hundred people that weren't.
Kusama-san wasn't.
Akihiko felt bad about his Junai Egoist series then, and wondered if he should make sure it won't be on sale anymore.
He was shaken out of his daze when a low groan sounded from the direction of the bed. Akihiko stood up immediately and leaned down, staring intently at his lover as his eyes opened slowly.
Misaki blinked a few times, eyes half closed, and a tiny smile crossed his lips. "I's you…" he mumbled, his words jumbled. Akihiko smiled tenderly and brushed a few strands of hair from his beloved's face.
"Yes," he whispered. He wanted to say something more, but decided against it. Misaki should get his rest and not talk.
"You're 'live…" Misaki whispered then, voice barely audible. Akihiko was a bit taken aback by that, but before he could ask anything the happiness in Misaki's eyes changed suddenly into some sort of sadness. "No…" he breathed. "Not 'im… Usagi-sa…" then his eyes closed and he fell asleep again.
Akihiko sat there, dumbfounded, his eyes wide. What was that?
He remained in his place until visiting hours were over, hoping to see those lovely green eyes open again, but Misaki remained in his unconscious state for the remainder of Akihiko's visit.
When he stood up, preparing to leave, the doctor entered. He came to Misaki's bed first, and smiled widely when his eyes landed on Akihiko. "Ah, another visitor for the young man," he said. "I can tell he's quite likeable."
"Yes," Akihiko replied quietly. "I'm a friend of the family." That wasn't a complete lie.
The doctor chuckled and took the chart from the foot of the bed, scanning it quickly. "It may take some time," the doctor said as he put the chart back in place, "but he'll recover. We managed to take him out of the danger zone… it's quite fortunate, you know."
"Of course," Akihiko said, grabbing his wallet from where he put it on the drawer next to Misaki's bed.
"If that man wasn't there, this guy wouldn't have been here as well," the doctor said, scribbling something on the chart.
"Excuse me?" Akihiko asked.
The doctor looked up at him, blinked stupidly, and smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry. In the report we got it said that the man who was lying on top of him in the wreckage got most of the blow. He died, unfortunately, but he saved your friend. This young man here also, he seems to look for him whenever he wakes up. Well, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to check up on. Have a nice day." And with that the doctor moved to next bed.
Akihiko remained standing there for some time more, but then the doctor gave him an angry look and motioned with his head towards the exit. Akihiko took the hint and left.
*
It was only a month after the accident that Misaki was able to stay awake for more than half a minute. The cast on his leg was removed, and so were some of the bandages, and his general appearance became much more appealing. The doctor said that in a couple of weeks he'd be able to leave the hospital.
Akihiko visited him everyday, with Takahiro and his family sometimes joining. Akihiko believed that they gave him strength.
It was in a Saturday evening when Misaki was finally able to speak coherently. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Akihiko, and once again his eyes changed from happy to sad. "Usagi-san…" he whispered and coughed weakly. "Where… that man…" he said and coughed again.
"Which man, Misaki?" Akihiko asked, although he knew very well who his lover wanted to see.
"From the train…" the younger man replied. "He… he told me I'll live. I'm alive Usagi-san, but where…" tears slipped from his eyes slowly and Akihiko didn't know if they were tears of pain or sadness.
"He died," Akihiko answered simply, knowing that lying would not give good results. "But you're alive thanks to him, Misaki. He received most of the blow…"
"Ah," Misaki breathed, tears coming down faster. "I-I see…" he sniffled. "His name?"
Akihiko shook his head and Misaki released a dry sob and shut his eyes. "Like you…" Misaki said, voice cracking.
"Hm?" Akihiko asked, taking Misaki's hand in his own.
Misaki was panting in between words and Akihiko knew it was still hard for him to talk. "He looked… like you… blue eyes… his were… warmer… hands… big… black hair…"
"Shh, Misaki," Akihiko soothed, tightening his grip on Misaki's hand. "Don't talk too much yet."
Misaki shook his head weakly. "But… he saved… me... he's gone…"
Akihiko needed a smoke, but he used his last cigarette about an hour ago. "I'll be right back, Misaki," he said to the already falling asleep teen. "Rest well."
The automatic machines were on the first floor. Akihiko inserted a few coins and grabbed his reward quickly, intending or returning to the fifth floor immediately, but when he glanced outside he saw a gathering in the yard, with various staff members, some patients, and… was that Hiroki?
Curiosity got the better of him and he stepped outside. In the back of the crowd indeed stood Hiroki, dark sunglasses covering his eyes, hat covering his hairs and a large coat covering his body. It was mid-July, and Akihiko remembered with pain that about a week ago, when he met him at the bookstore and asked about his unusual winter gear, Hiroki told him that nowadays he was always cold. "It's so cold that sometimes I think I'm freezing to death," Hiroki had told him.
He stood behind him, looking at the center of the crowd where an old doctor was talking. Behind him there was a picture of Hiroki's dead lover.
A memorial service…
Hiroki's lover was beautiful, Akihiko concluded suddenly. Dark skin, deep blue eyes, black… hair… his eyes widened.
"Hiroki?" he whispered into his friend's ear.
The brown-haired man turned to look at him with surprise written all over his face. "Akihiko?" he asked. It pained Akihiko to listen to his friend lately. His voice was dead, empty, and so were his eyes.
So was his soul.
"What's going on?" Akihiko asked him, although to him it was quite obvious.
"A memorial service for No-" Hiroki lowered his head. "-for him…" he continued. "He used to work in this hospital…"
Akihiko nodded. "Say," he whispered when the doctor in the center finished talking. "My… roommate is hospitalized here… he was in that horrible train wreck, too, and I think… I think he might have met Kusa-"
Hiroki shot his hand up and shut Akihiko's mouth quickly. "I don't want to hear that name," he hissed.
Akihiko removed the hand forcefully. "He mentioned a blue-eyes man who saved him," he finished. Hiroki looked back up at him with big, disbelieving eyes. "Room 523," Akihiko mumbled quickly. "Come whenever you can."
*
It was nearing noon. Misaki was sitting up in his bed, eating the miso soup he was served slowly, wincing whenever he swallowed, as Akihiko watched over him from the side.
"The doctor said that in a few more days you'd be able to leave here, Misaki. Isn't it great news?" Akihiko asked, lying his hand on top of Misaki's covered body.
Misaki nodded slowly. "Yes. I feel a bit better now." He was speaking the truth, Akihiko thought, if his lack of panting was any indication to that. "I can't wait to be home again…"
Misaki looked up then and his eyes widened. Akihiko, worried at this, looked up too and smiled a bit when he saw Hiroki standing there, no sunglasses and no hat, just the coat, buttoned all the way up.
"K-Kamijou sensei?" Misaki breathed, soup spilling as he tried to move. Akihiko grabbed the tray quickly, preventing the rest from spilling. "W-what are you doing here?"
"You know him, Misaki?" Akihiko asked, surprised.
"I… took a course with him in my freshmen year," was the reply.
"Ah, right. Hiroki here, he's a childhood friend of mine."
"Hello," Hiroki said, voice dry. "How are you feeling?"
Misaki nodded dumbly. "Better, thanks…" he glanced at Akihiko worriedly, demanding for answers with his eyes.
"Actually, Misaki," Akihiko began, putting his hands in his lap. "Hiroki's… good friend died in the train accident," Misaki winced. Akihiko knew it was hard on him, but he wanted to help his friend, so he continued. "I… we think… the person that saved you… we think it might have been his friend."
Misaki looked up at Hiroki, shocked. "Eh…?" he breathed. Hiroki merely looked away, saying nothing. Instead, he pulled out a wallet from his pocket and gave it to Akihiko.
Akihiko opened the leather wallet and gave it for Misaki to see. The young man's eyes widened further and he looked up at Hiroki again, pale. "That man…. from the train…"
Hiroki stared back at him, just as shocked. "You've met him?" he asked quietly, voice somewhat cracking.
Misaki nodded quickly. "He… he pulled me back, when that train jumped… they… the doctors told me that he received the major blow… I was saved, thanks to him…" he bowed his head, nearly touching the covers with it. "Thank you very much!" he mumbled quickly.
"Nowa- this guy," Hiroki said quietly, hands shaking. "That saved you… did he… tell you something?"
Misaki nodded. "Yes, yes, when we finally stopped falling, it really felt like we were falling… he told me that I'll pull through. And then… towards the end… you know, he was looking at me but… he was someplace else, I'm sure. And he said… he said he knows…"
Hiroki gulped. "Knows what?" he asked.
"Just… that he knows."
Akihiko watched anxiously as Hiroki's hands shook harder and were lifted slowly to his hairs, pulling at them. His eyes were as wide as saucers and tears gathered at their corners. Without another word he turned around and ran out.
Akihiko panicked, grabbed the forgotten wallet from Misaki's grip and ran after him. When he saw the elevators doors closing after him he ran down the stairs, dodging dazed nurses and reprimanding doctors, until he finally caught up with his friend in the hospital yard. "Hiroki!" he cried. His friend kept on running, so Akihiko grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face him. His eyes widened.
Hiroki was crying, he was certainly sobbing but… he was smiling. "H-here's your wallet," Akihiko said quietly and handed it to him.
Hiroki nodded, and Akihiko watched with mild surprise as he unbuttoned his coat, removed it, and threw it on his shoulder. "Thanks," he said.
"Aren't you… cold?" Akihiko asked him.
Hiroki shook his head slowly and sniffled. "No, no… actually… actually I'm… warm...."
Akihiko smiled, and not minding the crowd pulled his sobbing friend into a crushing hug.
End.