A New World

~2~

Killua let out a shaky breath as he slumped down on the balcony connected to his hospital room. He had to wheel the massive cart connecting to the mask he was wearing, plus some other things hooked up to him, but it was worth it. He could barely stand being in that room. It gave him such awful memories... Killua let out a groan, resting his head against the cold metal of the balcony railing. Where even am I? He thought, as he stared down at the bustling streets below. How was it possible that he'd ended up somewhere his body couldn't survive without help from machines? And what, because he couldn't breathe the air? Surely everywhere on the damn planet had the same nitrogen levels.

It's not possible I somehow got myself stuck on a completely different world, right..? Killua thought, a knot of worry forming in his stomach. He didn't want to believe that, but it made the most sense. He had a concerningly weak immune system according to the doctors, despite his upbringing. Not to mention he felt...lighter, like there was less gravity. He couldn't wait to test that after he was free of this place. The nurse had told him a portable device was in the process of being made, but it might take a few months to manufacture and test. Killua could not stay in that room much longer, or he'd go insane. Perhaps a year or so earlier he'd have had a panic attack the moment he opened his eyes, overwhelmed with fresh memories like an open wound that had not yet been stitched closed.

He was broken out of his thoughts as he registered the sound of footsteps from behind him. Killua turned his head as the tired old man who'd been with him when he first woke up slid open the glass door to the balcony. "You should be resting." Killua let out a sigh, leaning backwards against the railing. "I'd rather be out here with the noisy traffic than in that damn room." The man, who's name was Shota, frowned. "You seem to be more focused on getting out of this building than with your health." Killua couldn't help but scowl at that. "I'm stable aren't I? Can't we just move the equipment to another building?"

The old man let out a frustrated sigh. "I can't do that. You need doctors here to monitor you at all times to make sure you don't suddenly get worse." Killua gritted his teeth, gripping onto the railing. "I don't care! I can't stand this fucking place anymore. Please, you have to get me out of here..." Killua loathed how his frustration turned to desperation, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help how much that bare hospital room made his skin crawl, and his mouth dry. Shota's frown shifted from an irritated one, to a slightly concerned one, then he rubbed his temples. "I'll talk to someone about this, and see what I can do alright? But I can't make any promises." Killua let his jaw relax, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah...thanks." He mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. He felt so utterly weak in that moment, he hated feeling like this. He hated the feeling of not being in control of his own life.

Days passed, then weeks. Killua got out of that room any moment he could, for any reasonable excuse he could come up with. Shota visited often, talking with him and bringing him things occasionally to keep his mind off things. He'd brought Killua a few puzzles, books, card games, and other similar things. He was never able to stay very long, but there was seldom a day where he didn't visit at least once. Killua had burned through most of the items he'd been brought soon after he received them. Puzzles and books only really had one use after all.

One day, Shota came to visit again. Killua lay in the hospital bed, trying to forget the fact that he was in one by redoing one of his puzzles for the 8th time. When the door opened he glanced up, eyes snapping in the direction of the sound. Shota walked in, with the same tired expression as always. "Hey kid, how are you feeling today?" Killua groaned, stretching as much as he could without dislodging the medical equipment. "Same as always, I wish I could eat actual food." He'd been on several IVs for the past few weeks in order to keep himself sustained, due to not being able to take off the mask in order to eat. "If this is my future just kill me already, I miss chocolate." He grumbled.

Shota let out a soft chuckle. "Well, I've got good news for you. The beta prototype of your mask is ready." Killua sat up straighter, glancing around in excitement as he looked for the device. Shota shook his head. "It's not here, I've got it back at my place." Killua blinked, why on earth would he keep it at his place. "Eh? Why didn't you bring it?" There was a beat of silence, as Killua tried to figure out what exactly this old man was getting at. Then he realized what Shota had in his hands. It was his clothes, the one he'd had before he was stuck in this hospital gown. Wait-

"You have ten minutes to get ready, kid. Get moving."

1002 words

To Be Continued...