Chapter Text
When they arrived, the sickroom at the hospital was overflowing with victims of the earthquake. Men, women, and children alike were all lined up in futons side by side, packed so tightly that there was scarcely space to walk between them. The room was already crowded with patients and hospital staff, but the presence of family members only compounded the congestion. It gave the impression that even those who had escaped injury might fall ill simply from being pressed into such proximity with this swath of people.
The sound wasn't any less overwhelming than the sight. Some were groaning in agony, while others were openly weeping. Even though many were trying to be conscious of the level of their voice, there were simply too many people for the sound to not be cacophonous. The entire room felt surreal, like a scene out of a nightmare.
If the sound of wall-to-wall suffering was not enough, the smell was worse. The smoke and acrid fumes of antiseptic in the air were pungent enough to make one's eyes water with nausea. There were so many refugees from Tokyo that the sickroom smelled like a restaurant thick with charcoal smoke- an uncanny scent produced by humans instead of food.
It was into this oppressive room that Minakami and Tamamori stepped, following behind a middle-aged nurse with a terse disposition.
“You said your friend is from Aizu?” the nurse asked.
“Yes, he grew up here,” Minakami answered.
“Is that so? Then why hasn't his family come to care for him yet? If he's from Aizu, he shouldn't be alone,” the nurse said.
“Ah, you see, he doesn't have any members left in his household. It's just him,” Minakami explained.
“Is that so? How unfortunate…”
The nurse- a well-experienced woman who was affiliated with the Japanese Red Cross- stopped beside a futon a ways into the sickroom, along the right wall. A man lay there. A blanket covered his lower half, with his chest and arms exposed. His skin was flushed a deep, uneven red, glistening faintly as though treated with oil. Most noticeable about this man, however, was that his right hand was bandaged in a straight tube, all the way from his fingertips, up to his shoulder. The bandages were not thick (as the hospital didn't have any supplies to spare with the sudden influx of patients), and yet, his right arm was almost twice as thick as his left arm.
His eyes were clenched shut- not in sleep, but instead in agony. Despite his pain, he was lying still and not making any noise, unlike many of the other patients who were crying out. If his face did not hold a tension that suggested he was alive, it would be easy to make the mistake of thinking he had already passed.
Even with the swelling that distorted his usual features, Tamamori was still able to recognize one of his closest friends. He covered his mouth with his hands, rendered unable to say anything. He found himself wanting to rush to his side and recoil in revulsion at the same time, but in the end, he could only stand and stare at he who was lying on the floor mat in a fevered state.
That man- Kawase- who had only just achieved an uninjured form in recent years, had somehow gone and become permanently disfigured.
Tamamori heard Minakami and the nurse talking, but he couldn't make sense of their words. The shopkeeper's memories of the earthquake and the great war drifted through his mind’s eye, pulling him into a reality he had never been a part of. Those people were screaming, those people were begging him for help… but he had walked past them all as if he were made of tin- completely unmoved by their cries.
The truth was that Tamamori was an unempathetic person. When a disaster struck, he did not rush to the aid of others. He would much rather move through the scorched ruins, letting the sights of such a hell fascinate him. Although he wouldn't openly laugh or take pleasure in other's pain, he found himself drawn to the spectacle of it; the kind of person that would grab his pen and camera so he could document the disaster. Others’ agony would become his voyeuristic amusement.
What kind of person was he, when only just a day ago he had said that he wanted to grab his camera and leave to document the earthquake? Those people he wanted to capture in agony were nameless and faceless to him- what did their pain matter? As long as he could use their suffering to make an interesting story- a story compelling enough to secure his future as a journalist, if he spun it just right.
And yet, here lay Kawase. One of those nameless and faceless victims had once been his best friend.
It was for that reason that Tamamori was overwhelmed with a sense of guilt while looking down at Kawase. Here Kawase was, balancing along that thin line between life and death, and he found himself incapable of shedding tears. Shouldn't he have fallen to his knees and cried out Kawase's name in shock? Shouldn't he have been reassuring him that it was all alright, and that he would be there to take care of him? Shouldn't he- couldn't he- do anything useful to help his friend?
But Tamamori couldn't do any of that. Instead, he stared down in silence at Kawase, his supposedly precious childhood friend, his expression gray. It was only when Minakami pushed on his shoulders gently to encourage him to sit, that Tamamori got on his knees and joined Kawase on the floor. The nurse had left, and it was just the three of them.
“Poor thing... They said they gave him morphine, but it must not have been enough,” Minakami said.
“Mi-Minakami…” Hearing his name, he turned towards Tamamori, who was staring down at his lap. “What… what happened to Kawase…?”
Tamamori had been so shocked that he couldn't listen to the nurse's explanation. Minakami looked thoughtful for a moment, and placed a hand on Tamamori's knee.
“Well, you see…”
Although Kawase was conscious when the nurse led them over to his bedside, he was not lucid. The doctor had wanted to ask Kawase what had happened to him so that the information could be recorded in his medical records, but he had not been well enough to even speak yet, and so the hospital staff could only guess as to what had happened. Kawase was in a fevered state, with his fever being due to the burns he had sustained. He had received third-degree burns up his right arm leading to his chest and shoulder, while the rest of his body was covered with shallow burns. Although the shallow burns could have occurred simply from Kawase walking through the city, something must have happened to his right arm to leave it so horrific- the flesh had even melded his fingers together. The only saving grace of the matter was that it appeared that Kawase had covered his face with his left hand, and so his face was protected.
The nurse had told Minakami this, and he had to recount the whole tale to Tamamori, who had been too shocked to listen the first time. As it turned out, they might even have to resort to amputation, if the wound 'festered up with yellow bile'. Tamamori covered his mouth to keep himself from retching when he heard this, even just the mental image overwhelming him.
The way hospitals worked in their country, the family had to be responsible for much of the care given to the patient. It was typical at the time for family members to feed and provide clean clothing for those patients. Because Kawase didn't have any family, he would have to rely on others. What made matters worse was that Kawase was simply a difficult patient. He didn't like to be touched, he didn't like to be fed, he wouldn't say if anything hurt, and he wouldn't ask for help when he needed it. He was stubborn to an extreme degree. The nurse had said it would be best if 'his family could coax him into compliance', but of course, Kawase had no family to speak of, just a handful of people he might have been able to call friends.
Nothing could be done about it- the doctor and nurses had done all they could do for him. Really, Kawase was in good shape when compared to the husk of a man next to them. For some of the patients in the ward, they were clinging on to life only to be soon met with death. Tamamori looked at the elderly man beside them who was close to crossing over to his next life, and wondered vaguely if Kawase would be following him anytime soon.
Such a thought was unbearable to him.
Tamamori called out to him. "Kawase, can you hear me?"
As if stirred by the voice he heard, Kawase opened his eyes a sliver. Tamamori felt like this was a good sign, and he leaned closer.
"Kawase, it's me and Minakami. We came to see you. Do you know where you are?” He spoke louder as if to get his attention. “You're at the hospital, back home in Aizu."
Kawase looked up at him, and slowly mouthed something.
"...Ta…ma…"
His voice had not been used in so long that any words he tried to speak came out distorted. His throat was swollen and he was wheezing with every breath.
"Does it hurt any? The doctor said they gave you morphine. If you need more, I can let them know," Tamamori began.
"No… no…" Kawase mouthed again and again. It wasn't clear if he was rejecting the morphine, or if he was referring to something else.
Because his throat was in such a bad state, Minakami suggested that they ask for some food and water, so they could see if they could improve his condition enough to get him to speak. Tamamori thought this was a good idea, and after managing to get a hold of a nurse, they got rice and water for him. It took both of them to get him to eat and drink- Minakami had to help him sit up, while Tamamori had to spoonfeed him.
Kawase likely abhorred such treatment. Ordinarily, he would be cursing and fighting them for 'belittling' him, but he was in such poor condition that he couldn’t even refuse their help. Like this, he was as helpless as a newborn baby.
They managed to feed him and give him water, and after they finished they laid him back down. It seemed that his throat had improved, and they tried talking to him again. However, even with his voice being capable of speech, his mind was scattered.
"Kawase, do you remember anything that happened?" Tamamori asked him.
"Remember anything…?" Kawase's voice trailed off as he thought, his eyes glassy and unclear. When he finally responded, he said something strange. "Tamamori-kun… what did you want to tell me?"
It was a question that Tamamori hadn't been expecting, and he could only stare stupidly at him. "Huh? What do you mean what did I want to tell you?" He asked softly, tilting his head.
Because Tamamori didn't seem to understand him, Kawase only grew more desperate. He grabbed Tamamori's sleeve with his left hand and tried to pull him closer, but he didn't actually have the strength to do so. Instead he dug his fingernails desperately into the fabric, trying to cut into him.
Tamamori saw how upset he was getting, and leaned forward to placate him.
Kawase spoke again, his voice raspy. "You… you said you were going to tell me… The… the day of the earthquake, you said…"
Tamamori hadn't done anything with Kawase on September 1st- he couldn't have. He had been at his previous employer’s office begging for his job back. Far enough away from the disaster that he couldn't have possibly told Kawase anything. What was he implying?
"Huh? The day of the earthquake?” Tamamori said. “The day of the earthquake I was at the office, and then I came home… I wasn't in Tokyo.”
"No, that can't be… You said… you said…"
Kawase was quite upset by whatever he was trying to get across, and Tamamori looked to Minakami for help. However, Minakami's face had gone pale, and he was vaguely rubbing the collar of his shirt, feeling for his prayer beads necklace. Tamamori had no clue what any of it meant, or why they were both acting so strange.
"Minakami, what is it?"
When Tamamori said his name, Minakami snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. "It's alright… I think it's just that he's confused. He's just been through a lot of trauma."
While what he said was true, that didn't seem to be the whole explanation… But it wouldn't be good to kick up a scene now, and so Tamamori didn't press him.
Instead he asked, "What should we do?"
"At this point, there's not much we can do," Minakami said. He looked over at Kawase, who was glaring icily at him. "However, we'll have to be responsible for him from this point on."
The sentence Minakami said was simple in structure, but the meaning was anything but simple. Kawase curled his lip in disgust at him, while Tamamori spun around to look at him.
"Huh? What do you mean?" He asked, his eyes wide.
"I mean we're going to have to care for him from here on out. At the hospital, and then whenever he gets released," Minakami said. "He probably won't even be able to stay home by himself for a while…."
As the implication of their future settled in, Tamamori stared at Minakami with a dumbfounded expression. Care for Kawase. As in… what? Feed him, bathe him, help him get to the restroom? The same care that you would have to provide for a newborn infant, except the one you were caring for was a full grown male filled to the brim with misanthropy? They had to do that?
"But he won't let us care for him!" Tamamori exclaimed.
"Then he had best learn what's good for him and learn to let himself be cared for," Minakami sighed, placing his hands on his lap. "It won't be any good if he rejects treatment and loses his arm completely."
They were disgustingly blunt words that held an edge of truth to them.
"That's-!!” Tamamori started to splutter and then caught himself. “Do you really think it would come to that? Losing his arm, I mean…"
"Who can say?” Minakami sighed again. “We had better be there for him everyday while he's in the hospital. The nurses have too many patients to watch over to give him the full attention he needs."
"And we're going to care for him?" Tamamori asked, his eyes wide.
"We could abandon him here if you could live with the guilt," Minakami said in a half-joking manner.
When Minakami said the word ‘abandon’ it became clear what their choices were. Really, who else would care for him? If they didn't agree to help him, it wasn't like anyone else would step up and do it. They could either choose to leave him here now, letting Kawase survive off of whatever care the overworked nurses could afford to give him, knowing fully well that no one else would be coming to help him…
Or they could be the ones to watch him day in and out. A tireless and likely thankless endeavor that wouldn't necessarily reap them any benefit other than a guilt-free conscience. In for a penny, in for a pound- if they started caring for Kawase, they would be on the hook to do so for who knew how long. If Kawase didn't make a good recovery, he would have to be cared for by them until the day he died, and his death might be decades down the road.
Ah, when he thought of it like that… it became obvious.
Tamamori, who was not an empathetic person by any means, turned his head slowly to face Kawase. He placed his hand down on the hospital mat in front of him.
“Kawase… we're not going to abandon you, okay? I… I promise!” Tamamori leaned forward, careful not to touch him, but close enough to let him know he was there. “I don't even have a job right now! I'm actually unemployed, so… So I'll come and visit you everyday okay? We're friends in sickness and in health!! W-was that how that saying went? No, I can't remember it…”
Tamamori thought that Kawase might reject him, or he might spit and curse at him for such an offer, but instead his shoulders relaxed and his head sunk into the cushion underneath him. It was like his body that had been bound up with a tight string had been cut, and he went limp. He looked at Tamamori with his dull black, half-lidded eyes.
"Ta…ma…m…o…ri…”
He mouthed something unintelligible after that. It was impossible to know what he said, but he shut his eyes, going quiet. Unlike how he had been earlier, he seemed to have found a small modicum of peace.
When he went quiet again, they turned towards each other helplessly.
They had a long road in front of them.
❁❀✿
Almost two weeks ago, Tamamori was fired from his previous job. In his attempt to write a fascinating column piece, he had managed to infuriate the newspaper company’s sponsor, Mitsuya Champagne. Writing about the excellent taste of Calspi had turned out to be his undoing, and he was dismissed without appeal.
Initially, Tamamori returned to his former employer every morning to beg for his job back, but after ten days with no progress, it became obvious that they would never rehire him. On his final day of pleading at the company, a great earthquake happened, and things were thrown into total chaos. He would be wasting his time if he loitered around at his former workplace any longer than he already had, and so he resigned himself to looking for a new publishing company to be hired by.
Searching for a new position required hours of poring through newspaper advertisements, handwriting resumes to be mailed in with job applications, and- if he was lucky- prostrating himself in front of his prospective employer during an interview. That morning, Tamamori had spent a few hours digging through newspapers (an expense he could scarcely afford, because those newspapers had to be purchased), but in the end, the only thing in the newspapers were reports about the earthquake and fires that had just devastated Tokyo. It was understandable why the news of a natural disaster would take precedence over job listings, but it meant his search had reached a standstill for the time being.
Tamamori sighed and ran his fingers through his hair irritably. Just the day before, Minakami had come to pick him up from the train station on the bicycle he had borrowed. It was clear that he was worried that Tamamori would have been caught by the earthquakes and be unable to return home. As Tamamori wrapped his arms around him from behind and pressed his ear against his back, he could hear Minakami’s heartbeat resonating through his body. That tha-thumping sound lingered in his mind, leaving him unsettled. He disliked being the object of such concern.
It wasn't like Tamamori would starve to death if he couldn't find work. Minakami would buy him groceries, and Tamamori would accept his charity, weak as he was against hunger… But it was still difficult to accept his lover's charity. Though he wasn't the most masculine male on the planet, he still possessed enough pride to desire independence. He wanted to support himself. What would become of him if he relied on Minakami for everything?
And yet, despite that very thought, he now found himself waiting for Minakami to return home so he could ask for advice…
Tamamori's mail arrived everyday at around two in the afternoon. That day, he received a letter of unusual refinement. The return address was from the local hospital in Aizu, but he hadn't been expecting any mail from them. He opened it without a second thought and read.
The contents were, to say the least, alarming. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions without a second opinion, Tamamori sat about his home wringing his hands. It was difficult, sitting idle while the only employed member of the household was away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
That's why when Minakami arrived, he jumped up from where he was sitting and ambushed him.
"Minakami, look at this letter I received in the mail today!"
Without offering any greeting, Tamamori thrust the paper toward him. Maintaining his usual calm demeanor, Minakami accepted the paper and glanced down at it. It was brief. It read…
'Mizumori Tama-san,
'I am writing you this letter as a courtesy to you. I would like to inform you that your acquaintance, Ikeda Eiichi-san, has been admitted to Aizu's general hospital. He was wounded as a result of the earthquake in Tokyo.
'I will not speculate on the full extent of his injuries, but it is not insignificant. It seems there may be permanent damage and disfigurement. As medical facilities in the Tokyo area were overwhelmed, a comrade and I transported him out to his hometown so that he might receive more attentive care.
'I bid you good day.'
The word 'comrade' suggested that the author was a member of the military, but Minakami did not recognize the handwriting. As for the contents of the letter, they were likely accurate. Madame and Naoshi had just arrived from Tokyo to stay with the Suizenji family after their home had been destroyed in the disaster.
"What a difficult situation," Minakami said quietly, folding the letter and handing it back.
"Do you think one of Hanazawa's new friends sent this?" Tamamori asked.
"That would be my guess," Minakami said. "But we won't know for sure without going to see him."
It was impossible to be certain, but it seemed like Hanazawa and one of his brothers in arms packed Kawase up and took him out to Aizu. No one else would know Kawase well enough to know he was from Aizu- he wasn't open enough for anyone else to know. As for why Hanazawa had not written the letter himself, it wasn't apparent.
"Do you think-…?" Tamamori began, but could not finish.
He was visibly shaken, nearly paralyzed by worry. Minakami placed a hand against his back to comfort him, but he didn't say anything. In truth, he had little optimism himself, and empty reassurances would only worsen the situation. The letter was by no means reassuring, and he would have to be naive to think that a word like 'disfigurement' would be used to detail a small injury.
…There was only one course of action.
"It'll be alright, I'll go with you," Minakami said gently. "We should go now and let them know we're aware of the situation."
Tamamori nodded. He had been wanting to go since he had received the letter, but he had been too afraid to go alone. Now that Minakami was beside him, he finally found himself capable of reaching for his shoes.
❁❀✿
The haze of smoke was so thick, he knew not if it was day or night; if he was awake or asleep. Reality had blurred together with his nightmares, and he was left with nothing to hold onto. For those who had always lived with concrete truths- on their five senses to define the world as it was, being cast into this world of muddied colors and distorted shapes was terrifying.
Kawase didn't have a lot to begin with. He chose his path in life resolutely, and marched forward without stopping to ask himself if what he was doing was right or wrong. His reasoning for this was simple: he decided that even if he came to realize that the path he was on was wrong, there would be no alternative path. As long as he told himself that there was no way backwards- only forward- his steps would never falter.
He moved forward, intent on pursuing the one man he wished would need him above all others. He would follow that man until the day he died, no matter where he went or what kind of person he became. If that man walked the path to paradise, Kawase would go to paradise; if that man walked the path to hell, Kawase would go to hell. He would do this without a second thought, so committed in his loyalty that even dying after being branded with countless, unwashable sins, wouldn't be enough to satisfy the depth of his devotion.
Over the span of his young life, Kawase only had a few figures that ever meant anything to him. One of those figures was his beloved family dog that he had cared for when he was young, having its life cut cruelly short and left to rot at the bottom of the family's well. Another one of those figures was Hanazawa, the man that Kawase owed everything to. And the last figure, the one that had wormed his way deepest into Kawase's blackened and shriveled heart, was Tamamori.
His beloved Tamamori, the one he had fallen in love with after they became accomplices that night so many years ago. It was that man that he wanted to spend the rest of eternity with; although he knew he would never be able to fulfill that dream. He would have to leave Tamamori one day, if he wished to follow Hanazawa, he had always known that. He had always known that, and yet…
It still hurt when Tamamori disappeared one June morning without a word. It was as though the earth had opened and swallowed him whole. One morning they had breakfast together at the cafe, and the next time Kawase would see him would be on July 10th of the following year. Even then, Kawase only found Tamamori because he swallowed his pride and returned to that hometown he loathed so much.
If Kawase hadn't bothered to return, would he really have never seen his beloved person again, not even until the day he died? Tamamori abandoned him. He decided that life in Tokyo didn't suit him, and it would be best if he returned home. He decided this all without a single word to Kawase, his supposed friend. It would have been strange even if they were just acquaintances- disappearing without a trace. But having known each other for over a decade, somehow, Kawase was not even worthy enough of a single parting word.
Tamamori had always acted so close to him, he would joke around with him, smile at him, and come and eat breakfast with him. They would talk about the future, and all the things they were going to do together no matter how ridiculous. They did all of those things that foolish young adults did together, acting like they had not a single worry in the world… and then he up and he left him. He would disappear without any indication that he was alive or dead.
Kawase would never forget that fact as long as he lived. He had left him without saying goodbye. In the end, he didn't even like him well enough to say goodbye.
To say that he was anguished was an understatement. Kawase, who had so few people of meaning in his life, had lost yet another. To find that his most precious person likely saw him as nothing more than a cheap form of entertainment, never saw him as anything other than a way to kill time… It was enough to leave him hollow. Kawase already hated this world and all of the people in it, but knowing that even Tamamori saw him as less than dirt… It was like there was a gaping wound in his heart, a gash that cut all the way to his depths, spilling red blood down his filthy and stained chest.
Kawase was deeply hurt, but after he had gone back and seen Tamamori that one time on his birthday, he decided to cut all contact with him. It would be better to move forward alone. He tried to console himself over his loss- he would have had to do this anyways, what did it matter that it had happened a few years prematurely? But those logical words could not hope to stop the bleeding of his wounded heart.
Then, as if to humiliate him, on August 24th, Kawase received a letter from that very same man who had abandoned him. Just when Kawase had finally worked up enough resolve to be done with Tamamori, he reached out to him. Even knowing how much heartache and pain he had brought him, how could Kawase ignore a letter from him? Staring down at his handwriting scrawled on the outside of that envelope, his hand trembled so badly that he almost couldn't open the letter.
'Dear Kawase,
'Long time no see! I hope you don't burn this letter as soon as you receive it, I want to tell you that I miss you. You probably don't care that I miss you, though, right?
'I'm writing you a letter for an embarrassing reason. Even though I'm convinced that you hate me and want me to die, Minakami told me that it's been a long while, and said that I should write you a letter. He said that, but I honestly don't even know what I'm supposed to write.
'Aizu has been the same it always was, it doesn't feel like anything's changed. I know you just came back and visited in July, but you probably didn't take any time to visit anyone. I feel like I didn't even get a chance to talk to you when you visited. Hey, why did you come back here, anyways? Is there a reason why?
'Actually, I still think it's strange that Minakami told me to write a letter to you. After all, I don't think you really care about anything. You always gave me that impression- like you didn't really need anybody besides Hanazawa. So that's why I'm convinced that you'll just burn this letter as soon as you get it.
'But even though I said that, I don't have the courage to write something crazy. I guess that means that part of me thinks you might read this letter, because I'm scared that you'll think I've said something weird. Well, you always think what I say is weird!
'I won't return to Tokyo again for reasons that I can't explain, but if you ever want to come to Aizu, you're more than welcome to visit me. It doesn't have to be for a long time. I mean, I know you wouldn't like to stay over at someone else's house because of your phobias, so I wouldn't ask you to stay over or anything. But if you just came over for a little bit, I'd be fine with it.
'I hope you read this, even if you probably won't!
'See you,
'Tamamori.'
He felt a torrent of emotions when he read that letter. He felt anger over the fact that Tamamori played with his feelings only to waltz back in his life like nothing had happened. He felt pain over the fact that they had been apart for so long, and had lost so much time they could never get back. And then, finally, he felt sadness. Sadness over the fact that he wanted nothing more than to be reunited with him. He wanted to hold him- he wanted to hold him so tightly that he could no longer escape. Even though Tamamori had treated him so cruelly, even though he had ripped his heart out of his chest… he wanted him.
He wasn't strong enough to do anything but want him.
Kawase thought about the matter for a week, but he still couldn't decide what he wanted to do about the letter. Truthfully, he wanted to write back to him immediately and torment him for how he was treated… But what would he even say if he did write to him? He knew it would be in his best interest to throw the letter away and forget all about it, but he found himself incapable of doing so.
Before Kawase had a chance to decide what to do, he received a second letter from Tamamori, on August 29th.
‘Dear Kawase,
‘I will be at Sanshirou Pond on the first of September at noon, please come and see me then.
'There's something I want to tell you…
‘Tamamori.’
If the first letter stirred Kawase's heart, then what did this one do? The moment he read those words, his mind ran wild with possibilities. Tamamori had just written that he wouldn't return to Tokyo again for reasons that he couldn't explain, only to go and ask Kawase to meet him at Sanshirou Pond in the very next letter, saying that he had something he wanted to tell him…
Could it be possible? Did Kawase dare hope that all of his previous actions had been a mistake? Did Tamamori come to discover that he didn't love Minakami as much as he originally thought, and that he wanted to return to Kawase's side?
What could it be that Tamamori wanted to tell him? What was there? Surely even Tamamori wasn't so ridiculous as to call Kawase all the way to Sanshirou Pond only to tell him something inane. It had to be something important, it had to be… That's what Kawase had thought, and that's why he had wanted to meet him.
But none of that mattered now. Now, Kawase was lost to the world between the chthonic and the living. Something had happened, and his body was in just as much agony as his mind. His skin stung dreadfully, as if he had been covered in cooking oil and pressed against a hot pan. Everything stung, everything burned. It was like thousands of fine needles had pierced him, and any way he moved would agitate these needles and drive them deeper into his flesh. His skin burned, his chest ached, and his arm, oh, his arm… How the flesh of his arm was in agony!
Kawase thought he knew what pain was- he had certainly experienced enough physical agonies over his years- but this pain was an entirely different matter. This pain was deep, it was searing… The pain of his arm was so great as to make the nerves in his teeth throb. It was enough to make him wish that his arm fell off, anything to stop the pain that he was in.
That sharp agonizing pain lessened when he arrived at the hospital. The nurses administered him something- likely morphine or chloroform, if his studies at university had taught him anything. Seeing the results that those drugs had on people, Kawase had always been averse to the idea of using such substances on himself, but after being in such agony, he no longer had any qualms.
Kawase's thoughts were scattered in every direction, and he didn't know what to think. He felt like that fire he had been caught in was his cremation, and he was now just a mere pile of ash. Various faces floated past him in his dreams. Hanazawa and Hakase, then a series of nurses and doctors, and finally Minakami and Tamamori. When he saw Tamamori, anger surged through him. He had wanted to reach out and seize him- but his limbs were made out of lead, and he couldn't move.
Tamamori spent some time speaking to him. Truthfully, he couldn't remember what he said, but thought he responded to him. He wanted to know why Tamamori disappeared, and why had said he was coming to see him again in September? What was it that he wanted to tell him?
He thought that Tamamori in his dreams might disappear and never show up again, but he came and visited him many times. In nearly all of his dreams, Tamamori sat beside him, speaking to him. What was he telling him? That pretty face was seriously so agitating.
That's what he thought, but… he secretly hoped he wouldn't disappear ever again.
❁❀✿
This morning Kawase was wide awake. The doctor had given him a fair-sized dose of morphine, and the pain receded to the edges of his mind. The windows of the sickroom were open to let in fresh air. It was the perfect time for the patients to groom and have baths, as they would have ample time to dry. As an adult, Kawase had been bathing every single day, and even being in agonizing pain, he didn't want to stop bathing.
He managed to sit up in his futon. He remained perfectly still, his breathing shallow but even. Tamamori stood behind him, with his back against the wall of the sickroom. Tamamori was combing his hair for him. He would first wet the teeth of the comb with soapy water, and then weave it through the strands of hair, making sure not to pull too tightly.
This wasn’t just for show- Tamamori was attempting to clean Kawase's hair while he remained in bed. Because of Kawase’s fastidiousness, the first thing he complained about, once lucid, was the smell. The smell of smoke was still present on him, although not as thick as when he arrived from the capital. He nagged Tamamori into bringing back a bowl of soapy water.
Kawase had wanted to wash his own hair, but even the fingers on his left hand were too stiff to properly clasp the comb. So Tamamori had no choice but to wash it for him. While Tamamori didn't mind washing his hair for him, he feared how Kawase would react to being touched so much. He had touched him more in the last week than he had in his whole life.
But so far, he hadn’t complained.
It had been just over one week since Kawase was brought to Aizu, and the hospital had calmed since the sudden wave of new arrivals. Although there were still enough patients that the room was beyond capacity, there was a little more space between them than there had been on the first day. The reason for that being, those patients who were leaving the hospital were being sent to the morgue…
Regardless, Kawase was much calmer now that he had some personal space. Even going through the agonizing operation of debridement didn't seem to bother him as much as laying within arms reach of another patient. It appeared that this most recently traumatic event hadn't done much to change him as a person.
The nurses had been changing his bandages every morning without fail. One young nurse in particular seemed to have taken a liking to Kawase, and so she tended to his wound far more frequently than she did the other patients. When the little nurse found out that Kawase was a teidaisei who had been studying medicine, she liked him even more. Even if being treated by her made Kawase sick to his stomach, she was adept at cutting dead tissue off, and he knew it was necessary to accept treatment if he didn't want to die from an infection.
'Don't be afraid to cut some of the live flesh off to ensure you get all of the dead pieces,' Kawase had instructed her.
'Sure thing mister!'
Tamamori thought it was awful how Kawase could ask for pieces of his own flesh to be sliced off with such a reserved expression. Even in his fevered state, he didn't say much- and his fever would rise, every evening into nightfall. While other patients would mumble about the strange things, or start crying because of their pain, Kawase remained silent.
That was, until Tamamori came to visit him in the morning. When he came to see him, he would start in on him about all the different things he wanted Tamamori to do for him.
'It's important to keep patients clean to prevent infection. The nurses are overwhelmed and can't do everything, so I guess I'll have to accept help from you. If you don't do it properly, I'll die from infection,' Kawase had said.
'Can you seriously say something like that with a straight face!?' Tamamori had shouted. 'Of course I'm not going to let you die from infection!'
'Good. Then come here…'
Since it had been a week, Kawase's lucidity was getting better and better. Before, he drifted in and out of sleep, but now he could be awake for several hours at a time. Because of that, Kawase also started talking to him more- and not just uttering that which was absolutely necessary.
"I have to keep moving my arms if I want to go back to school. I can't let them get stiff…" Kawase said. His voice was still weak from all the smoke he had inhaled, but it still held traces of his usual acidity.
Tamamori paused to glance down at Kawase's face.
"You need to rest so that you don't wear yourself out. Don't worry about going back to school now… I was talking to the nurse earlier. She said Tokyo university is already planning on starting school again this October, but there's no way for you to make it back in time. You're not ready to go back yet."
Even though Kawase wanted to disagree and say that the nurse was just trying to keep him around for her own perverse fascination, anyone could tell he wasn't anywhere near capable of returning. He couldn't even comb his own hair or feed himself- there was no way he could write notes and perform labs.
Tamamori continued brushing his hair. Because he was combing water into his hair to wash him, the strands were getting wetter and wetter, gathering together. When Kawase's hair got wet, he turned even darker and silkier than it was ordinarily.
Kawase spoke slowly. "What a pain… I already knew that those guys weren't going to just stand around kicking rocks, but missing a whole year of school will be nothing but trouble. I'll have to write a report on why I took medical leave."
"Don't worry about any of that stuff yet.. You don't need to worry about going back to school at all this year," Tamamori said. "Just try to focus on recovering so you can go back next year."
"Is that what the nurse said, or just what you want?" Kawase spat.
"No, I really think you shouldn't go back yet."
Kawase exhaled and looked away from him, and Tamamori reached the comb around to his bangs. Silence hung in the air between them. In truth, Tamamori wasn’t sure he believed that Kawase would be able to return to school. It was too soon to know anything for certain, but in all likelihood, chances seemed scarce. The nurse was optimistic, but the doctor had been brutally honest, and Kawase's outlook… left a lot to be desired.
Guilt had been eating Tamamori alive. What if Kawase's injury was somehow his fault? In the shopkeeper's timeline, Kawase had managed to escape the earthquake without so much as even a scratch, but now he was burned practically from head to toe. Madame and Naoshi had been killed in that other timeline. There was many a cautionary tale about fate being unchangeable… If those two lived in this timeline, did that mean that others had to die for things to stay in balance? If others had to die to create balance, who would be chosen?
Tamamori didn't know if he believed in fate, but if fate was real, then he knew he must have messed around with things enough to deserve being punished. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that he had brought about Kawase's suffering. The hashihime would punish those who acted with others in mind, how would fate punish him? Would Kawase have been gravely injured for his meddlings in the world?
Even worse, back in August, Tamamori had written Kawase a letter to ask him how he had been doing. The shopkeeper never wrote Kawase any letters. Was that just a coincidence? Or had that letter somehow altered Kawase's path so that he would fall into harm's way?
The first day in the hospital, Kawase said that he wanted to know what Tamamori was going to tell him the day of the earthquake. What did he mean by that? Tamamori hadn't been planning to tell Kawase anything the day of the earthquake- he had only written that one letter asking him to come back and visit Aizu sometime. How did things become so twisted?
"Kawase, on the first day I came to visit you, you mentioned something strange…" Tamamori began slowly.
"Something strange?" Kawase glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Yeah, you… You asked me what it was that I wanted to tell you on the day of the earthquake."
"Did I ask that?"
"Yeah, you did."
"Well… What did you want to tell me, then?"
Tamamori shook his head. "That's the thing, I don't have anything to tell you. I'm not sure why you asked me that…"
Kawase's body went rigidly still, but in the blink of an eye he relaxed again. If Tamamori's hands were not still woven in Kawase's hair, he wouldn't have been able to tell such a subtle change had even occurred.
"…Since you had nothing to tell me, then it doesn't matter what I asked you, does it?"
"I guess not… but I still think it's strange. You sounded like you really wanted to know something."
"Not really. As long as you don't have anything to say to me, there's not anything I want to hear from you."
There was nothing more that could be said on the matter. Tamamori didn't have the courage in him to ask Kawase about the letter he had sent him, and he couldn't mention that he felt like him getting so severely burned was all his fault.
Instead he just reached down and picked up the towel he had brought with him. He set it over Kawase’s head and began drying his hair. He had already been scolded enough times to learn what was 'too much pressure' and what was 'not enough pressure' and so he was careful enough to not get scolded while drying his hair.
Or, so he thought…
"Are you trying to maul me to death or dry my hair?" Kawase huffed at him.
"Ah- surely it wasn't that rough?" Tamamori said.
Kawase clicked his tongue in irritation. "You have the tact of a bull in a china shop. I actually have nerve endings in my scalp, you know!"
"Then, is it okay if I do it like this?" Tamamori adjusted the pressure as he spoke.
"No, that's way too light… You might as well just let me air dry if you're going to do it like that."
“In any other situation,” Tamamori muttered under his breath, “I’d have left you to air dry by now.”
"Why? So that it's not obvious that you don't know how to use a towel?" Kawase scoffed.
"I know how to use a towel! I just-…" Tamamori sighed helplessly. "I just don't know how to do it how you like it…"
"Just do it somewhere in between those two," Kawase said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Tamamori didn't know whether to laugh or cry. In any other circumstance, he really might have dropped the towel on Kawase's head and run off. This guy was seriously going to drive him crazy, he was really going to be the death of him!
…But he couldn't give up, even if Kawase wanted him to.
He adjusted his grip on the towel, trying again- this time more carefully.