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Yatora was walking down the hall to visit you in the hospital. Last night, you had gotten into a concussion due to a big fall from the stairs. You finished your surgery last night but were in a coma.
He had a single flower bouquet as he walked into Room 507. He watches you rest with the beeping monitor to check your heartbeat. He sets the single bouquet on the nightstand. He takes a seat as he sighs in worry. He was alone, so he had time to grief for you.
Watching you breathe in peace was calming for him, but you were in pain, so it made him uneasy to think like that.
"I know you can't hear me right now," he continues, " but I'm sorry for not asking how you really were that day. I know we haven't talked for a while. I really wished I spoke up about it. It's very hard these days. We're children who were forced to become as adults. That's how adaptation is, isn't it?"
He looks at you, waiting for you to reply. He scoffs.
"Well, I guess you can't reply since you're in a coma right now. Sorry for being weird," he laughs in a soft tone.
He stood up after he fixed his coat. He watches you, asking you to move, but you didn't. You didn't. He leans closer, just a bit closer to see if you were still faking it.
"She's very beautiful. Like a golden picture," Yatora inhales, smelling your sweet and sour scent, "And she smells like lemongrass and sleep."
He leans over to your faces as he watches the golden sunlight shine your face. The beauty of an artist's model was beautiful, but your face matched the goddess of his dreams. Why did pain manage to be with you right now? Because if you weren't right now, then you would probably be happy in such a beautiful and healthy state.
