The Wounded

26

A week has passed since Masamune's memory of Ritsu disappeared into the dark corners of his mind. Masamune has returned to his councilman duties after a week of rest and therapy. Everything was good for him, he had a great rank and aside from minor headaches, he felt completely healthy. But part of him was empty and he didn't know why.

Opposite from Masamune, Ritsu is getting more sick as the next hour passes. Ritsu had no energy to move from his small comfy room and often skipped meals to rest. His once peach appearance now a sickly gray and hazel hair falling to pieces. Everything was spiraling for him but Ritsu regretted none of what he did to save his lover.

Ritsu's point of view

I glance at my bloody wrist somberly.  My memory walk through(s) are back and as the hour passes I am growing more tired of bandaging my wounded wrists over and over. "Ritsu-san," I heard from behind the door that I always kept locked. 

"It's Misaki, um, I've brought some warm soup for you since you have trouble keeping things down now." I ignored the shivering in the tone of his voice and stood up to unlock the door, only to stagger as pain spread throughout my back. "Ritsu-San?" I muttered a quick reassurance before continuing to walk towards the locked door. When I finally reached the door and unlocked it, I was met with the sight of Misaki and Usami-San carrying a small tray. "May we come in?" Usami-san's deep voice rang through the hallways and I nodded my approval before stumbling closer to the wall to let them in.

"How have you been?" I glanced at Ritsu as he fiddled with his fingers. "I only have about three weeks left, how do you think I feel? How is Masamune?" It was my turn to fidget, I messed with my former engagement ring that I kept on a chain around my neck. "He is good, minor headaches here and there but he Is fine." I nodded relieved. "Thank you for lunch." I said politely, but in complete honesty I wasn't hungry. I had stopped feeling the urge of hunger two days ago.

"Ritsu I have minor errands to run, would you mind if Misaki stayed here with you?"

I shook my head before settling down on my bed. "Does it hurt?" Misaki asked as he cuddle up in my chest. I paused for a moment to decide on my answer, should I lie to keep him from worrying or should I tell the truth and be the cause of his distress? I finally decided that the truth would be better, I am dying anyways so why deny it? "It does hurt. But I don't regret anything I have done for him." He nodded before tapping my pale arm nervously.

"Why won't you eat?" He whispered as if speaking in a normal tone would break me. "I have long since stopped feeling the urges of hunger." "C-can you just eat a little?" I looked down at his mop of brown hair solemnly and sat up. If it made him feel better then I shall do this one simple task, I only have three weeks left after all.

Misaki watched me throughout my struggle to not heave and rid my body of the warm meal. Spoonful after spoonful I swallowed the light soup that floated with fresh little celery dices until I finished a quarter of the bowl. It was tasty but instead of digesting the light meal my body rejected it and I felt myself heave over my plastic trash can beside my bed. Misaki rubbed my back shakily as I regurgitated the minuscule portion of soup I swallowed.

When my vomiting regressed to dry heaving, I used a wet cloth to wipe my mouth and stood up to wash the taste of celery and vomit from my mouth. I took out a travel sized mouth wash bottle and emptied the contents into my mouth before swishing the burning liquid around. After a while I spat out the liquid into the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. My skin looked pale and sickly, my thin hair was matted with sweat, and my arms looked as if I was beat up from all the cuts and bruises. I glanced once more at my appearance before leaving the bathroom and returning to my bed where Misaki sat.