Luka
Silence.
The hallway was completely silent.
I never could've imagined hospitals would be this quiet.
Then again, I'd never actually been in one before.
That's just how life worked for hybrids.
We didn't have insurance. Medical records. Or whatever other bullshit other people had that let them walk through hospital doors.
This was my first time.
The first time I'd ever sat in a hospital hallway.
Someone would think I'd be looking around, trying to take everything in. It should've all been interesting, like walking through a museum for the first time.
But I wasn't.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from my hands.
They were covered in a cracked layer of dried blood.
The blood of the human who'd stepped in front of a bullet meant for me.
The man who'd thrown himself between me and death without a second thought.
Why?
Why would he do that?
He didn't care about me.
Right?
He'd already walked away from me once.
I could still see the cold look on his face before he turned around and disappeared from my life.
So why?
What had changed?
Why now?
Why risk his life for mine?
Maybe he hadn't even thought about it.
Maybe it had just been instinct.
Why else the hell would he jump in front of a bullet?
Why?
I clenched my fists, trying to stop the tears that were building again.
My body was too exhausted, so my fingers slowly loosened on their own.
Something shifted beside me, pulling me out of that horrible trance for a second.
Kazuo was sitting next to me with one of his big, fur-covered hands resting on my shoulder.
He'd been sitting beside me the whole time without saying a word.
Just... staying with me.
He and Michael had gotten to the hospital almost as soon as the ambulance did.
I'd been completely lost.
Completely useless.
I hadn't had the slightest idea what I was supposed to do. What I was supposed to tell the doctors. Whether I needed to show them any paperwork. Where I was supposed to go.
There'd only been one thing in my head.
Him.
I'd kept begging the medical staff over and over.
"Please... please save him."
Michael had taken care of everything else. I hadn't seen him since he'd gotten held up somewhere near the reception desk.
Paramedics wheeled Ed away on the stretcher immediately, disappearing through a pair of sliding doors I wasn't allowed to go through.
So I sat there in that hallway, right in front of those damn doors.
I couldn't bring myself to leave.
I couldn't think about anything else.
Whenever all that shit had happened to me, my head had never been this much of a mess.
I'd been scared.
I'd been in pain.
But I'd never panicked like this.
The thought of something happening to him made it impossible to breathe.
What if the doctors couldn't save him?
What if that bullet had hit something vital?
What if I never saw him again?
What if I never heard his voice again?
I swallowed, trying to force down the lump in my throat that made it hard to breathe, then sniffed quietly.
Kazuo's hand tightened around my shoulder.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't need to.
That was how he told me he was there.
That I wasn't alone.
And I was grateful.
I really was.
Time dragged by at a miserable pace.
I had no idea how much of it had passed.
An hour?
Two?
Maybe the sun had already come up.
Maybe it was an entirely new day by now.
I didn't know.
My head was overflowing with thoughts, questions, and regrets.
So many regrets.
Some of them didn't even make sense together.
Part of me regretted agreeing to meet them in the first place.
If we hadn't... None of this would've happened.
Everything had started because of that meeting.
Fate had pulled us apart once. Maybe we should've left it that way.
But no.
We'd wanted more.
Another part of me regretted not talking to him more back then.
Standing there in silence instead of saying something.
Not hearing his voice more often.
Not seeing him more often.
God...
What was the point of any of those regrets now?
If he was okay...
If he made it through...
I...
Suddenly the operating room door opened. A doctor stepped out, wearing a surgical gown, a mask, and a cap. His exhausted posture made it impossible to tell whether the news was good or bad.