Saiko moved through his duties that day with a quiet determination, keeping his eye downcast to avoid any signs of displeasure from the doctor. Dr. Iwamine's mood was sharper than usual, his touch cold and disciplinary, punctuated by harsh tugs at Saiko's hair and sharp slaps whenever he made the smallest mistake.
It's okay, Saiko told himself, even as his scalp burned from another yank. Doctor's making me strong. Making me better.
But in stolen moments, Saiko couldn't help but look toward Makoto's room. Every time he passed by with his tray of bland hospital food or pitcher of water, his gaze would flicker toward the doorway, searching for that gentle, soft face. And each time, if he was lucky, he'd catch Makoto's eyes. Makoto would lift his hand, offering a quiet wave or even a soft, knowing smile that made Saiko's heart flutter wildly.
Today, Saiko had felt a strange courage, daring to let his gaze linger just a second longer. Makoto's lips formed a quiet whisper: "Good job."
Those two words echoed in Saiko's mind like music, lingering even as he returned to the doctor, bearing the sharpness of Dr. Iwamine's demands. Saiko took a deep breath, his chest swelling with the brief validation he'd stolen.
But Dr. Iwamine's stern gaze noticed even the smallest hint of Saiko's distraction. As he leaned in to bandage a patient's wound under the doctor's supervision, the doctor's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Saiko's hair and yanking him back so hard that Saiko almost lost his balance.
"Keep your mind on the task, or is that too much to ask?" Dr. Iwamine's voice was laced with cold annoyance, his grip unyielding as he twisted Saiko's hair just enough to make the pain blossom.
Saiko winced, his single eye blinking away the sting of tears. "Yes-yes, Doctor! Saiko... s-sorry, wobble-wibby!"
The doctor released his grip with a look of disdain. "You're not here to slack off or chase after childish fantasies, understand?" His gaze was sharp, dark, and Saiko could feel the warning beneath it, like ice pressing against his skin.
"Y-Yes, Doctor..." Saiko stammered, bowing his head low. The pain in his scalp pulsed, but he tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the doctor's words. Doctor's teaching me. He's making me strong, so I can be good.
But in his heart, Saiko couldn't shake the warmth Makoto's glance had given him, the kindness that seemed to light up the dark corners of his world. He worked through the day, clinging to that feeling, even as Dr. Iwamine continued his harsh lessons. His heart held onto the hope that he could balance both men's attention, that he could be enough for the doctor while still cherishing those glances from Makoto.
As the day went on, Saiko barely noticed the bruises forming from the doctor's sharp slaps or the ache in his hairline. He knew better than to linger too long outside Makoto's door, but he'd steal brief moments, a passing look or a quick wave when the doctor wasn't looking. And each time, Makoto's smile would bloom like a soft flower, a silent reminder of kindness in the harshness of Saiko's life.
And so, he continued on, a quiet determination fueling him through the pain, clinging to both men's attention like they were threads pulling him in two directions.
Dr. Iwamine's voice was sharp that morning, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Today, you're to assist Mr. Sato with his hygiene. He'll require full assistance. Do not embarrass me with your incompetence, understand?"
Saiko nodded eagerly, a surge of excitement and nerves bubbling up. This was his chance to spend time with Makoto without sneaking glances or fearing punishment. This was his chance to prove he could handle a real task.
When he stepped into Makoto's room, the familiar warmth of Makoto's gentle smile was there to greet him, though the man's face showed hints of fatigue. Saiko pushed down a shy, uncertain smile as he approached the bedside.
