Tokyo Revengers 𝕎𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴀʀᴇ

(Chifuyu POV)

Chifuyu's brain throbbed, a sharp pulse of worry and exhaustion that had been building for hours. His footsteps echoed through the hospital hallway as he hurried to the front desk, his mouth dry as he tried to form the words.

"K-Keisuke Baji," he stammered out, barely meeting the receptionist's eyes.

The woman looked up from her papers, her face calm and almost indifferent. She pointed down the hallway. "Room 305."

Chifuyu nodded, too anxious to offer any thanks. His legs moved faster, the sterile scent of disinfectant heavy in the air as he weaved past nurses and patients. The door to the room was slightly ajar, and through it, he spotted Draken’s broad frame leaning against the doorway. His friend turned as Chifuyu's footsteps grew louder.

"Hey, you're here," Draken said, his voice low but filled with relief. He gave Chifuyu's back a firm pat. "We were looking for you, man. Kazutora was worried sick."

Chifuyu nodded, barely registering Draken's words. His gaze slipped past him into the room, where he saw familiar faces—Mitsuya, Hakkai, Pah, Peh—standing silently near the bed. Their presence was muted, a stark contrast to the usual energy they brought, but Chifuyu couldn’t focus on them. His eyes zeroed in on Baji, lying pale against the hospital sheets, wires snaking out from under his hospital gown.

Kazutora sat beside him, shoulders hunched and tense, his eyes glued to Baji’s face, as if trying to keep him tethered to this world through sheer willpower.

Baji caught sight of Chifuyu almost immediately, pausing mid-conversation. For a moment, the room felt heavier, all eyes suddenly on him. Mitsuya rose from his stool beside the bed and offered Chifuyu the seat with a quiet nod.

Chifuyu swallowed the lump in his throat and took the seat, his voice soft as he spoke. "Hey..."

Baji tried to shift into a more upright position, his face twisting in a brief wince of pain, though he masked it quickly with a low chuckle. "Hey, man."

Chifuyu's eyes swept over him, taking in the bandages that wrapped around his arms and chest, the bruises just visible beneath the hospital gown. "How did you manage to do this?" The concern in his voice was laced with an attempt at lightness, but it couldn’t fully mask his worry.

Baji snickered, the sound half-hearted. "Happens."

Kazutora remained silent, just as he had been since Chifuyu arrived. His posture was stiff, and though Chifuyu had heard that Kazutora had been frantic looking for him earlier, now he didn’t even make eye contact. It was just like Kazutora—silent, carrying his guilt and emotions in ways Chifuyu still struggled to understand, even after all these years. Therapy helped, sure, but there was always that distance, the weight of past actions pulling Kazutora away from fully engaging.

And then there was Baji. Strong, stubborn, never allowing himself to show weakness. Even now, bandaged and hooked up to machines, he acted like nothing could faze him. Chifuyu admired him for it, but a small part of him wished Baji would just... let someone in. Let him in.

The room gradually emptied as their friends, exhausted from being there since midnight, began to trickle out. Kazutora stayed the longest, his exhaustion evident in the way his eyes drooped and his shoulders sagged. But even he eventually left, after Chifuyu all but forced him to go home and get some rest.

Now it was just the two of them—Baji and Chifuyu. The silence that fell between them wasn’t comfortable, though. It was heavy, filled with unspoken words.

"Does your mom know?" Chifuyu asked, his voice soft as he broke the silence.

Baji’s expression shifted slightly, his usual bravado faltering. He nodded, eyes turning toward the ceiling. "Yeah. She was here before you came."