『 I Won't Run Anymore』

Part 17 - Attempt

I was quick to rub my face with the back of my hand violently, throwing the bloody appendage under the blanket before the door had fully opened to reveal Yukio. I tilted my head at the boy, curious as to why he was here. The flowers in his hand slowly registered in my brain as a smile crawled up to my lips. He was here to check on me, what a sweet kid. I don't think I've ever heard of a student visiting their teacher before.

"I heard from Mephisto that you were in the hospital and decided to drop by. Is that alright?"

"Yes. This is a nice surprise Yukio."

I gestured to the chair next to the bed with my palm above the quilt as the boy took it, turning to glance at the nurses table once he was seated with a sigh.

"I told Rin flowers were unnecessary."

I followed his gaze to see the small amount of flowers that were gathered behind many cards. All from other teachers, exorcists and of course Mephisto's was the most flamboyant of all. I gave a half hearted smile to the young boy, reaching over to take the Peonies from his hands.

"I love them."

I sat the sweet smelling flowers next to my bedside, closest to me so they were in my direct line of sight above all of the other flowers. Peonies are a flower that stands for healing; so I can tell Rin put a lot of thought into this. He... isn't normally the smartest kid. Yukio smiled warmly at my gesture as I sat forward to look at the brunette better.

"Yukio, could I ask you something?"

"Of course Miss Renshaw."

I stared long and hard at the male, running the words through my head as well as many incomprehensible thoughts in my mild distress...But... I had to know...

"I want information."

"Information? About demon's I presume?"

"Yes."

"So what do you want to know?"

"Everything. Yukio I want you to teach me all you know about demons."

The boy blinked at me a little, his mouth opening lightly to reveal a few of his top teeth.

"Well... I do teach an exorcist class-"

"No. I want this kept just between me and you."

I sat back into the soft pillow behind my head, choosing to stare at the blank wall rather than the warm eyes of the male.

"I know I don't have the skills or strength of you exorcists, nor am I interested in fighting at all... I just need to make myself more mentally prepared for anything that can happen in future."

"Then wouldn't being able to fight be a greater advantage?"

"No."

The boy didn't question my abrupt reply, but I did notice the small shrug he gave from the corner of my eye.

"Very well. We'll start as soon as your better."

I kept my eyes focused on a spot on the wall as the male left the room with no other words, leaving nothing but the indent in the chair where he had been sat not 10 seconds before. I let out a heavy sigh and removed my hand from under the covers, my eyes finally moving from the blank canvas to dance over the darkened crusty blood that enveloped my fingers. With a heavy sigh I removed myself from my bed, stumbling over to the shower room to clean up before I went home.

~~~~

I lay in my room, taking in the brilliant white of the ceiling for fear of doing anything else. I had discharged myself from the hospital, making my own way back here without seeing anyone, nor informing anyone of my return. I just... wanted to be left alone. Yet at the same time I needed to be comforted. I rolled over to my left and stared at the picture of my parents on the bedside table. Both my parents were English; adorning brunette hair, unlike my own raven colour. My mother held green eyes whilst father had blue and I had assumed that's where my Heterochromia came from. I assumed wrong... I rolled back onto my spine, arching it to push myself into a sitting position as I stared down at my naked legs; my shorts cutting off a few inches above the clean cut scar I still held. Mephisto said it would heal in time, so I guess I just had to believe him. It was due to my weakened mentality... why it wasn't healing... I sighed and traced my fingers along the risen skin to the inside of my thigh. I flinched when new warmth caressed the opposite side of where my own fingers lay, a small sound of shock leaving my throat. I jerked my leg to cross over my other, eyes snapping in wild panic to stare at the man next to me. His eyes never left my wound, sharp fingers still hovering over where my previously amputated limb had been laid. I opened my mouth; not enough to speak, but enough for my bottom lip to quiver against the base of my incisors.