Fuck You, Pay Me!

9. A Thousand Words

Katsuki flinches as Hitoshi chokes out a grunt of agony, another long shard of glass being pulled out from his pale skin---his shoulder this time, he notes. It makes a disgusting noise as it dislodges and the man who's taken charge of Hitoshi's wounds let's it drop into the tin bowl below them with a grimace. Stain, he said his name was.

He's an odd looking fellow, unkempt dark hair petaled around his head and bulging eyes glaring into Hitoshi's blood-soaked skin. He's been in some sort of accident, a scar covering most of his face and reducing his nose to damn near just a pair of nostrils on his face.

Shady as fuck, but it seems like he knows what he's doing.

"You're lucky they didn't hit any vital organs or arteries or you'd be dead, Hitoshi." His gruff voice says, laced with a discernable amount of annoyance as he finishes sewing up another one of Hitoshi's wounds. The mercenary hums around the cigarette poised between his lips.

"You hear that, Kitty? I made Lady Luck my bit---fucking ow!" He yells when Stain tugs the end of the thick thread just a tad bit harder than he should, glaring up at the pale man.

"I'm serious, you stupid fuck. Take some responsibility for once and quit using your body as a shield. Didn't they teach you how to take cover at that stupid fucking academy? Or are you trying to die and leave me with all of your unfinished business?"

"On any other given day, I'd say yes but I never leave a job unfinished. Especially not the ones with live cargo."

"Fuck you." Katsuki counters monotonously and Hitoshi just shrugs.

"You're making excuses. Dragging the fucking stripper along with you wasn't apart of the job. You're not only jeopardizing their life, but you're drawing it out and complicating it. You're going to get everyone in the league killed."

"I thought you didn't care about the league."

Stain scoffs.

"I don't. Those gross, grimy bastards are the embodiment of everything I hate about society. Even more than I hate cops. Personally, the world would be better if they all just drop dead. But now you've got kids involved."

"You say that like you've never killed children."

Christ, what the fuck kind of monster murders kids?!

Stain narrows his eyes at Hitoshi before they shut and he heaves a sigh that's meant to calm him.

"What? Was I supposed to let the little fuck stab me to death? The kids you brought are innocent and don't even know what the fuck is happening to them, not trained martyrs. And I get that the other one is necessary but why bring this kid?" Stain inquires again, jabbing a thumb in Katsuki's direction. The blonde would like to tell him to fuck off and mind his own, but unfortunately he's not allowed to speak and for the first time in like---ever? He's inclined to listen. He's got no intention of dying tonight.

Hitoshi takes a long drag that finishes off his cigarette.

"They broke protocol and the kid was in danger. They were gonna kill him."

"So?"

"So...fuck, so I saved him."

Stain gives him a long, impassive gaze.

"You're an idiot." He says simply, standing as he puts away all of his medical paraphernalia with a shake of his head. Hitoshi squints at him with a scrutinizing gaze, almost as if he's accidentally let put some horrible secret and wonders if he should let the man continue living. He watches until Stain is no longer in sight, door shutting behind him with a rude thud on the way out.