The birds chirped happily outside as I blankly gazed through the window of my office, heart raging with emotions only the death of a loved one could evoke.
The early morning breeze danced its way inside the room, as gentle as never before, like it was meant to be for my sake.
After all, at this time of the year, it' supposed to be frosty, so much that one cannot stand it. However, such a welcome change seemed rather insignificant, like everything else in life as of late.
The room was mostly dark despite it being daytime, the only source of light streaming through the window, past the half-drawn curtains. It was still enough for me to see my surroundings though, as faint as it was.
If anyone enters my office now, they would leave with a frown on their face and a depressive aura trailing behind them. Negative emotions are just as contagious as positive ones after all. I feel a distant guilt knowing that and still doing nothing about it but then again, a part of me cares not.
Even if I want to, I just can't help feeling that way. To me, life seems to have long lost its meaning. I just spend my days performing obligations, completely disregarding any sort of entertainment or even a momentary respite, because I instinctively know that nothing and no one could make me feel alive anymore.
What's the point? Why should I bother giving myself a chance when I know how futile and meaningless an effort it would be?
How dull and stripped of colors life had become after you have left, Kaname .
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Two weeks earlier:
"You will be given immunosuppressant drugs soon after the operation. Without these drugs, your body would rapidly recognize the new heart as 'foreign' and mount an attack, or an attempt to 'reject' it. The immunosuppressant drugs control this rejection by reducing the strength of your body's immune system. "
A young man weakly nodded as he heard the doctor explain , eyes blinking in a resigned manner at the amount of medical information he'd been forced to learn due to his condition .
"However, this also means the drugs lower your body's defense against infection. The decision is yours. "
A bitter smile made its way to pale lips as the patient considered his decision. If he didn't take those drugs, the operation would have no meaning because his body would keep on fighting the new heart, wearing it out so much that when he can finally get used to it, the organ would have been long damaged and useless, just as the surgery itself. However, if he decided to take it, he'd risk lowering his immune system in general, which did not appeal to him. Nevertheless, he supposed he could solve the issue if he made sure he got no infection whatsoever.
Sighing deeply, the young patient gave an answer, voicing his approval which made the doctor nod , as if to further support such decision before standing up and concluding his visit .
Hanabusa knew what that meant. However, something bugged him.
"If I'd said no, would you have listened ? " He questioned hesitantly as the doctor made to leave.
After a pause, the elder let out a cryptic chuckle before finally responding with a question of his own.
"Aren't you the smart one?"
A last smile followed suit, one that Hanabusa couldn't exactly put a name to and it's in that moment that he realized it all. He wasn't giving him a choice, it just looked like it.
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Doctor Ichijo was completely different from Doctor Kiryuu, Hanabusa thought inwardly as he gazed at the cheerful man who was noting something down in his notebook every now and then, seemingly monitoring the patient's condition. Unluckily, his gaze has been caught. It only earned him a chuckle from the elder who then closed the file and heaved a sigh before asking what was so interesting in his face that Hanabusa spent the whole time staring at it in awe.
"I was just comparing you two." The answer left his mouth right away, an innocent stutter that made his cheeks heat up and body retreat further into the bed.
The doctor gave him a causal questioning look, like he didn't mind such a conversation, unconsciously tilting his head in the process, making Hanabusa fidget and dip his head down to avoid eye-contact.
"You and doctor Kiryuu." He confessed in a hushed whisper, if that was even possible, expecting a harsh reaction.
"Oh! How so? "
Much to his surprise , Dr Ichijo's expression remained convivial, as did his tone , the thing that made Hanabusa feel even more relaxed , talking freely as if it were a childhood friend across him .
"You carry around a cheerful vibe that makes me feel at ease despite my condition."
At that, a flicker of concern washed over the doctor's eyes but it soon vanished like it never was, replaced with peace and tranquility in less than a second, a drastic change happening too fast it had Hanabusa doubting its sincerity.
Maybe he'd been too quick to judge Dr Ichijo's personality after all. An air of silence claimed the room for what felt like forever until he spoke up once more "I hope my fellow doctor hasn't done or said anything cruel to you."
Hanabusa managed a sheepish smile, pausing to choose his words the wisest he could and finally settling on "Well, he wasn't that cold to me but he wasn't friendly either." That was the honest truth and not at all an insult, he told himself, driving away any feeling of guilt towards the said. Sure, doctors are human beings and all; they are prone to bad moods and stress, just like anyone else... But that doesn't mean treating patients in such a cold manner. Patients have a lot troubling them as it is. A warm smile and a gentle treatment would do absolutely no harm unless the almighty Dr Kiryuu saw his patients unworthy.
"You might find it consoling to know that Kiryuu-senpai recently lost a very close friend. He's yet to get over it."
The words plunged down on him like an avalanche would.
He couldn't meet Ichijo's gaze for more than a few moments. Shame took hold of him, a thick lump in his throat slithering everywhere to the point of paralysis. He'd been too busy focusing on himself and how people ought to interact with him and his condition that he forgot he wasn't the first or last one suffering in the world. He couldn't have known though... A part of him regretted viewing the doctor in that light and falling victim to prejudice but the other chose to defend his own actions.
"Why?" How did it get so cold all of a sudden? He thought to himself, wrapping arms around shoulders and hugging his knees.
He was met with no response so he licked his lips nervously to buy himself some time before rephrasing; fully knowing he'd crossed a line. There's a limit to how curious one could be. But he couldn't help it.
"His friend ... What happened to him?"
Time ticked by slowly. Hanabusa noted, counting seconds, dreading the answer.
120.
Two minutes.
Hanabusa hugged himself tightly, hating how easily he could to relate to the dead, torn between a want to know what fate would befall him and the total opposite, hating to hear about it. He suddenly wished he'd never asked and that Dr Ichijo would leave and ignore him. He did not.
"I shouldn't disclose information about patients, but ... I know you would not abuse it "
With eyes closed and one sense dominating others, Hanabusa touched the undertones of anguish in the doctor's voice .
"... He suffered Spinocerebellar degeneration. "
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A/N :
updated 4, April , 2019