No blood on my coffee please, thank you (M Reader x Twice)

Chapter 2 - Hey, wake up!

"..you don't have to worry though, as these types of cases are not that rare. With my suggested medication and guidance from you, your son will be able to live a normal life just like other children," a woman in a white coat in front of you claimed.

Your father shrugged at the statement, but thanked your psychiatrist nonetheless. You two then went out of the doctor's office after other reminders about your illness was given. Clutching your Pan-san stuffed toy, with your other hand held by your dad, you both went home.

You are (Y/N) Sugiyama. Diagnosed with mild autism when you were 5 years old, you lived a simple life with your mother and father in Chiba, Japan (cover pic is Chiba, where the famous monorail train is visible).

With a South Korean mother in the house, kimchi was a staple in the table and although your father wasn't initially fond of it, he has grown to love the dish as well.

You on the other hand, loved your mother's cooking from the start. Stir-fried noodles, spicy rice cakes, and seaweed soup for your birthday to name a few. You especially enjoyed eating jjajangmyeon (noodles with black bean sauce), which usually can be ordered as a takeout meal in South Korea, at the comfort of your own home.

Your father worked shifts as a construction worker and although your parents struggled to make ends meet, your family was happy.

Coming from your medical appointment, your mom and dad agreed to meet at the local park so you can all spend some time there before heading back home.

Your mother finished her errands quickly though and decided to meet you both halfway. She reached the park and walked a few hundred meters to a busy intersection and to the pedestrian lane.

She saw you and your dad on the other side hand-in-hand, also waiting for the pedestrian signal to go green before crossing the street.

"Gang-aji!" Your mom waved at you and called you her puppy.

"Oh, can you see mom? She's on the other side, look." Your father lifted you up and carried you so you can see clearer.

You recognized the peach coat, read beanie and her heart-shaped face, so you excitedly waved back. With all smiles, you called out, "Mom!"

"-ship.."

This was your first time hearing the terrifying, ominous voice. The cold air enveloped your head, and you immediately looked back since you thought someone whispered behind you, but no one was there.

Your father noticed your sudden movement and asked, "What is it baby? Is something wrong?"

The whispered counting continued as your breathing became shallow. The heart-wrenching feeling you'll come to know in the next few years stopped you from speaking, and cold sweat started to bead on your forehead and small back.

Your father was softly tapping your cheeks, still asking you if you're fine. Instinctively, you looked straight ahead and saw your mom, still waving at you, slowly go out of view as a delivery truck passed by.

BLAM! BLAM!

Two gunshot sounds startled all people on both sides of the pedestrian lane. The truck passed by and a horrifying scene unfolded. Your mom's body is sprawled on the sidewalk she was standing on awhile ago. As blood slowly pooled at the hard concrete where her head is, you watched her stare at you with a blank expression.

"-sa.. sam.."

The wretched feeling in your heart was still there, along with the heavy, cold sensation in your whole body. All the more, you were confused why your mom was sleeping in the concrete floor.

Isn't she cold without a pillow and blanket? What's that red thing on her head? Are we going to cross the street to meet her?

You thought this to yourself.

"-i.."

"HONEY!" Your father screamed and hyperventilated. The pedestrian signal turned green, and while still carrying you, he dashed across the crossing to get to your mother's body.

"-il.."

You were in the middle of the street when time stopped momentarily. A rushing sound and the faint ticking of a clock echoed and then everything that happened within the last ten seconds rewinded back.

You and your father are still at the other side of the crossing, and you can see your mother happily waving at you two.

"What is it baby? Is something wrong?" You look at your father as he stares at your confused face. He was on his late 20's but he was starting to get crows under his eyes, and wrinkles accompanied his half-smile.

You looked at your mother, still waving her right hand and visibly excited to cross the street to kiss and embrace her puppy.

Just before the delivery truck from earlier blocked the view, you briefly saw it.

Among the pedestrians on the other side, a bald man wearing a full black coat pointed something wrapped in a newspaper to your mother's head.

BLAM! BLAM!

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" you screamed with all your might as you woke up and sat bolt upright.

With blurred vision, you eyed the medical bed you're in and two people with masks around you. A gory hole with unfinished stitches is visible on your stomach.

"Sir, please calm down, we're here to help you," said a masked nurse on your right as she guided you to lie back down.

Your mind is still all fuzzy and your eyes immediately closed after your head hit the pillow-less bed.

"He still must be in shock. Doc, we might mess up the stitching if this keeps up."

"Okay, administer 2.5 ml of Propofol. And while you're at it, call another nurse from the station to assist us."

"All right, I'll be right back."

After hearing the faint conversation, everything went to black once again.

Everything went smoothly as your gaping wound has been stitched successfully after half an hour. The anesthetic would render you unconscious for a few hours and make you hallucinate for a while even if you wake up, but they were thankful for it as it prevented you from bolting upright in bed from time to time.

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