The Part That Hates {Rin Okumura x Reader}

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Before you had even realized you had slept, you were being woken by the soft drumming of rain against the hospital window. The sunlight was hidden behind grey clouds, and you could only hope that the storm would pass.

You turned to your side, hoping to block out the dreary mood the weather provided you with. You wanted to get over this loss, not stay trapped by regret forever.

"Mom," you mumbled, voice just above a whisper, "dad, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

You knew they would forgive you, no matter what. That was just the type of parents they were, and you admired that about them. They always loved you, regardless of what you did.

Like that time when you dropped out of school. They didn't stop you. They supported your decision because all they wanted was to see you happy.

You loved your parents. You loved when your mom would make you breakfast before she left for work so you wouldn't have to eat the same thing everyday. You loved her cooking. You loved when your dad wrote you little things of daily encouragement on sticky notes that he stuck around the house in every room he knew you'd have to visit.

You missed them. You missed their smiles, and the sound of their voices. You missed the way they would come into your room and kiss your forehead when they thought you were sleeping.

Not once did you think that losing someone would hurt so much, but here you were, in pain at just the thought of never seeing them again.

With these thoughts on your mind, your time in the hospital passed by slowly, mostly due to the fact that there wasn't much else to do than think.

Once your burns had healed (although a few large scars remained), the nurse you had been seeing every day since you arrived walked in with a kind smile.

"Well, (Y/N)," she began, hugging her clipboard to her chest with her right arm, "it's been a long time since you came to the hospital, and now, you're free to leave!"

You were silent. "I don't have anywhere to go."

"Actually, someone's here to pick you up!"

Not sure what to say, you stared blankly before the words finally formed. "Who?"

"Oh, well, I didn't ask his name, but he's dressed real funny!" She laughed lightly and smiled at you.

She sure smiled a lot, you noted as you pushed aside the thin white blanket before moving to sit on the side of the bed. You were hesitant to step down onto the floor, afraid to find the tile was uneasily chilly.

The nurse caught onto your thoughts and placed a pair of slippers beneath your feet. "I'll go get your things for you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks," your voice was soft and almost shy as you stepped into the shoes, stretching your arms. Not moving much in a month wasn't good for your joints, you decided. Even though it wasn't unusual, you figured that the way your muscles were feeling couldn't be good.

The almost overly polite nurse walked back in with your suitcase, and you grabbed the handle, hearing the wheels fall into the spaces between the tiles on the floor with a bump you weren't too fond of.

"I can walk you out, if you'd like," she offered, and you shook your head.

"No, I'll be okay, thanks."

You knew that was a lie. You still hadn't gotten over the death of your parents, and you certainly didn't know the person who came to retrieve you. Or at least you didn't know them, yet, but you weren't sure you wanted to.

When you walked to the front desk, and saw for yourself just who came for you, the shock you felt consumed you.

"Who are you?" You demanded, having no intention of leaving with the stranger.