Italic 。| jeunmiessi [Toji Fushiguro x Reader] COMPLETED

8

[TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains mention of blood and violence. Please proceed with caution. Enjoy reading!]

I started performing first aid on Toji's wounds. My nervousness, worry, and anxiety mixed altogether while I witness him trying to hold back his groans. I can't imagine the pain he is in with all these deep wounds. Who would ever do this to him even when he is a big grown man? Is this man a delinquent or something? I bandaged his hand that had multiple cuts that couldn't stop from bleeding. I noticed the floor having smudges of blood, and I figured that he had a cut on his back.

"Oh my god..." I kept catching my breath as I see him suffering with his face twitching in pain. I pulled out my phone to call for an ambulance, but then, Toji's hand reached for my phone and put my hand down.

"Don't. I'll be fine." He said trying to smile yet his eyes were full of pain. I slightly hit him on his arm which made his face twitch but a deep chuckle came out from him in a matter of few seconds. "I swear, I'll be fine."

"Like hell you will be!", I shouted. I couldn't help but be upset. How on earth does he still think that this is fine?! He's almost in the brink of death yet he still has the energy to laugh. I wanted to give him a full hit on the head but I held myself back. What's overflowing out of me now is worry. Pure concern and worry. I have never felt this kind of pain and never became this upset before. He was the only one who have ever made me feel this way. I know that I should not feel personally obliged to take care of him and just give him to the hospital, but something in me wanted to obey his orders to not do so. So, I didn't.

With my own mind battling with its self, I couldn't help but cry. I let my tears fall down and tried to push him to see his back's condition and so that I can treat it. He started moving, but to my surprise, he did not lay on his chest.

He sat down and rested his head on my shoulder. With his bandaged hand, he wiped my tears and buried his head a little deeper on my shoulder. "You look fucking ugly when you cry."

This asshole is making me cry even more. If it weren't for his injuries, I would have punched him so hard until he wheezes. This was the closest we have ever been since we met. And this gesture from him made me feel things I haven't felt before. But somehow, it was comforting. I finally had the energy to move and make himself stable while sitting down. I asked him to take off his shirt and I helped him with it.

"You like what you see?", he asked. I sniffed and frowned before replying with "Shut up".

His back was really sculpted and his shoulders were broad. His wounds were even deeper to look at without his shirt, and I almost lost the energy to even look at it even more. Whoever did this to him or whatever happened to him is miserable. I treated his back, and soon enough, we wrapped up. I gave him water from the office's dispenser and he said he felt much better than before,

I felt the urge to ask him about what happened, but I held myself back. He wanted to rest, so he lie flat on the ground. "Wake me up when it's morning."

"No. We're getting you home in a few minutes." I said. But he did not respond. I became nervous so I went to him and tried to check if he was fine. His breathing was stable and I was relieved. But I know that this is not the right place for his recovery, and he has to go home and go tot he hospital in a manner of few hours. 

I did not know where he lived, so I tried to look on his desk for at least his biography, but there was nothing. Why is this man so private?

I noticed his wallet sticking out of his pocket and I went to get it. I opened it up and-- yeah, he's broke. I sighed and took something that looked like a card. I pulled it out and it's his license, and there, his address was presented. If I have to carry him home, I will. 

I noticed a piece of paper folded multiple times fly off along the card when I pulled it out. I picked it up and read what's inside out loud. 

My eyes widened upon seeing what was written.

Troubled in silence yet loud emotions.

This was... one of the pieces I submitted when I applied in his company, and it was something I randomly wrote about him when we kept running into each other in the convenience store. Was this why one of my pieces were missing when I got home that day?

A gush of emotions flowed within me when a thought passed onto my mind. I shook my had to stop myself from assuming that one possible reason. Maybe he found out that it was about him? I don't think he would be that assuming... but... otherwise.

Why did he keep this with him?