𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘋𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘓𝘌𝘎𝘈𝘊𝘠 | ⁿᵃʳᵘᵗᵒ

Promises That Can't Be Kept

PROMISES THAT CAN'T BE KEPT

✧

The following days were filled with agonizing pain. Asami was unconscious most of the time, and the few times she did wake up she was met with someone at her bedside putting her back to sleep almost immediately. Those moments were filled with confusion and discomfort, her body slick with sweat, either too hot or too cold. She was always relieved to be sent back into the dark slumber since it provided her with a fraction of relief from the pain.

One of those times she woke up was different from the others though, as when she came to she was not overcome with the same sense of disgust and discomfort as the others. Instead, she lay on a comfortable futon with a soft sheet draped over her body, staring up at the ceiling she recognized as her bedroom.

Well, at least she knew she hadn't died.

The sheet fell down as Asami slowly sat up to take a look around her empty room. All her things were as they usually were, the only difference being the water basin, rag draped over the lip of it, and a cup placed at her bedside, presumably for her to drink from if she happened to wake up.

She grimaced at the distant stinging in her lower stomach, holding a hand over it as she looked down at the loose black shirt she wore. It had a tie around it so it could easily be unwrapped, so she pulled at it out of curiosity. Hopefully, she wouldn't see some sort of gruesome sight underneath. She wasn't sure she would be able to stomach that.

White bandages lined her stomach, light spotting of blood on them as though it was from the wound scabbing over, so it wasn't something to be concerned over. She wasn't curious enough to take off the bandages and get a look, so she left it alone. She was sure if she were to do something like that the healer would have her head for it anyway.

The distant stinging instead of burning pain like when the wound was first inflicted was enough of a clue to tell her it had begun to heal. Foggy memories of waking up and drifting off again made her think she had been unconscious for quite some time, allowing herself the time to heal. How many days passed anyway? She wasn't sure she could put a number on it, but it had to be at least a couple.

Asami reached for the cup at her bedside, peering inside to see it had been filled. She gave it a sniff, furrowing her brows as she made sure it was actually water.

It was better to check it wasn't filled with some sort of medicinal concoction that she wasn't supposed to ingest and end up poisoning herself. The last thing she needed was to go ahead and drink something she wasn't supposed to and kill herself after surviving the stab wound.

Deciding it was most definitely water, she began to drink, the water lukewarm but refreshing nevertheless. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was until now.

After draining the cup, Asami tied her shirt back up and pushed the bedsheet off of her completely, revealing a pair of loose black pants. She wondered who had dressed her since the clothing was not something she usually wore. She was mildly embarrassed at the thought of someone having to dress and clean her up. The last time anyone had ever seen her less than fully clothed was when she was a small child and her father bathed her. That had been many, many years ago.

While embarrassing, she knew it wasn't something to get worked up over. The healers needed to access her wound and make sure she was clean to prevent infection, so she tried to shove away the thought of someone she didn't know well seeing her naked. She was just going to pretend it didn't happen.

The healer was most likely a woman anyway, so there wasn't much to be embarrassed about. Not wanting to pay it any more mind, she got to her feet, pushing herself up off her futon.