Children of the Virus

29: Shadows of Longing

Toshiro awoke from a deep sleep, feeling as if he had been swimming in an ocean of darkness. The pain was immediate—a searing lance through his skull, a chorus of aches emanating across his body. With each throbbing pulse in his head, the world swam in and out of focus. He tried to lift his arm, but agony pierced down from shoulder to fingertips, chaining him to the bed beneath him.

"Where am I?" His voice was a ragged whisper, barely pushing past his dry lips.

Shapes danced in his blurred vision, indistinct and shimmering as if seen through a watery veil. A figure stood over him, a silhouette edged with the soft glow of artificial light. The gentle pressure of a hand on his forehead anchored him amidst the disarray of his senses. He could hear muffled words, though they were drowned out by the ringing in his ears and the chaos of his mind.

As his caregiver wedged a soft pillow behind his back, the words suddenly came into focus.

"You're in a small-town motel just west of Manin—being ejected from our vehicle nearly killed you." The voice was familiar, a soothing balm against the cacophony of his discomfort.

"Ren?" he murmured, grasping onto her name like a lifeline. The edges of his vision sharpened, bringing into view the concerned gaze of his friend. Her eyes held the kind of warmth that reached deep into the marrow, willing him to be whole again.

Ren exhaled a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken fears. "Yes, it's me. Thank God, you remember. You don't have amnesia."

"Hard to forget," Toshiro managed to say, though each word felt like lifting a heavy weight. His surroundings slowly pieced themselves together—a modest room bathed in the red hue of dawn, medical equipment emitting a soft, rhythmic beep, the sterile scent of antiseptics battling the iron tang of blood—his blood.

"Easy, Toshiro. You've been through a lot." Ren's hands moved with practiced care, adjusting the IV line now threaded into his chest port—the port normally reserved for his sugar pump. Her touch was deft, yet every shift sent fresh waves of pain rolling over him.

"Just give me a quick rebirth, and I'll be on my way," he joked weakly. Ren offered a smile, but her eyes betrayed the gravity of his condition.

"Rest now," she urged gently. "We have time."

Time—that elusive predator always stalking him, now a shadow in the cramped room. But Ren's presence, the constant protector at his side, promised a respite from the relentless hunt. With her near, fragmented memories of the furious chase began to resurface.

Toshiro's voice trembled as he spoke. "Ren...I need to ask you..."

"What is it, Toshiro?" Ren whispered softly as she gently touched his bruised cheek.

"Do you..."

"Yes?" Her gaze peered into him, intense and unwavering.

"Alex," Toshiro spat out with urgency as he struggled to prop himself up on one elbow, the effort igniting a constellation of pain across his body. "Do you know where he is?"

Ren's lips parted, ready to speak, but her gaze fell away. She rose abruptly and spun towards the far corner of the room. "Oh," she murmured, her voice laced with longing. "I thought you were going to ask me..." Her eyes flickered back to Toshiro's, filled with a mixture of desire and disappointment.

"What is it, Ren?"

She shook her head. "Not important. Alex is gone," she said, turning back to face him and pressing a gentle hand against his chest. Her gaze was steady, though a shadow flickered behind her eyes. "I managed to hack into the bounty hunter's vehicle. We can track it."