The Untouchable Prince | A Norenmin FanFiction

四十六

Forty Six
Updated: October 11, 2021
Edited: December 29, 2021

"Arigatou! I hope you come again!" The last customer just left along with all of his staff and employees. He was glad, thankful almost that everyone was gone, so no one could see.

He had fucked up. Like really fucked up. He fucked up so bad that he was almost embarrassed. His family had come from a long line of assassins and expert toxicologists, and yet, he... he fucked up. And... he didn't want anyone to see it.

Looking down at his hands, he almost panicked. They were red and swollen. They bled through the bandages that wrapped around them, bright red dots seeping through. He thought they had healed since the incident with that customer because there were thick scabs on the surface. He didn't think anything would happen. He didn't think he would poison himself. He thought-

He's so stupid.

Luckily, he's suffered hundreds of poisons and has learned how to detoxify them if something did happen. He's lucky enough to have such a high tolerance that he could still see and tolerate the pain enough to get through the last few closing hours.

He's lucky.

Suddenly, his head throbbed, and his vision immediately turned blurry.

...maybe he's not so lucky.

"Shit." His wrapped hands gripped his head, pulling at his hair. His hands stung and burned. He couldn't see anything, only the shapes, and blobs of what he thought were tables and chairs.

There was a figure in the far distance, in the corner of the restaurant. Its dark figure was almost melting. Was it a person? Did he know them?

"Hello...?" Shotaro asked, a hand detaching from his head to grab the edge of the table. "Can you help me?" He asked between hisses.

His headache throbbed. He felt his heartbeat pumping in his ears, clogging up his hearing. It was so loud. It was so fast. How could he be this stupid?

"...Shotaro?" He heard a distant voice. It sounded familiar. Like he's heard it somewhere. Like he's heard it dozens of times before. But, he didn't know where it was coming from. Where was the source?

Shotaro stumbled forward, knocking his foot into the leg of a chair and tumbling to the ground. He cursed under his breath, doing his best to pick himself back up. But the pain was so unbearable, he couldn't even get himself five centimeters off the ground before falling again.

"...Shotaro?" There was the voice again. It sounded more worried than earlier. It creaked and echoed through his ears, but he still didn't know where he came from.

"Help..." he croaked back, biting back a groan. He heaved himself onto his back, facing the ceiling as a hand gripped his head tightly.

"Shotaro!"

Through his blurry vision, a figure dressed in white crouched over him.

"Help... me... Sungchan-ah..."

That was... Sungchan? Was he really there? The figure looked like an angel, like a ghost. The figure didn't look like the scholar that regularly visited his restaurant.

"Shotaro, I'm here. I'm here. I'll help you."

Shotaro watched as the figure's mouth moved. The same calming voice he's heard before. Maybe it was Sungchan like his conscious thought it was. Maybe he was an angel.

He smiled at the figure, his hand dropping down from his head to his chest.

The pain felt numb, but it was still there. It dug, it clawed, it screamed at him. It ripped at his head, at his hands, at his entire body.