Heartless | KUN

2 - Dignity

Within a small room sat a man with wounded cheeks and hands. A shard of a mirror threatened to slip from the loose grip of his fingers as his body rocked back and forth. The dangling lights above him flickered, forcing him to close his eyes and wait for the flickering to stop.

He opened his eyes and leaned on the soft white wall. He consistently banged his head against the wall, watching his blue hair sway back and forth until his head hurt. His hand hovered over the open wound on his cheek bone and traced the clean skin surrounding it. It was only a matter of time before the medics came around. He could only hope it was the one he liked.

A pair of chains fell from the vent in the ceiling and connected themselves to his wrists. The lights transitioned to a deep purple colour and the blue barrier to his cell slid open. In a black suit, the medic pushed his tool tray into the prisoner's cell and crouched before the chained man.

"Morning, Kun."

"It's the afternoon, Dejun." Dejun merely smiled and moved to sit comfortably on his bottom.

He dug his hand into his pocket and took out a small box. He pressed a small button and the red flashing light switched off. He pulled out a long wire connected to it and dumped them in his tray.

"I see you're keeping up with time quite well." He said, taking out disinfectant and cotton swabs. He dipped the tip of the swab in the bottle and held it up, waiting for Kun's permission to begin.

Kun leaned close to Dejun, giving him the signal to begin. He complied and began cleaning the small wound.

"Fortunately, the laceration isn't too deep so it'll be able to heal on its own. It just needs to be covered for a few days."

His hands hovered below Kun's chin, indirectly guiding him to either turn to the left or right, look upwards or downwards or tilt his head. He had spent enough time with the prisoner to respect his wishes which were to avoid touching him. 

Closeness was tolerable but physical contact irritated Kun. Having majored in psychology for a few years, Dejun had bare understanding of his patient and knew why he was the way he was. That didn't stop him from trying to build a relationship with him.

"You're the most tolerable of medics in this hellhole." Kun muttered and looked into Dejun's eyes with seriousness painted in his features. "How much are they paying you?"

Dejun stopped treating the wound and looked away to cough out a laugh. He raised his free hand to cover his mouth as the laugh grew louder. The laughing fit finally came to an end and he returned to the wound treatment.

"You always know how to make me smile." He sighed, fixing a rusted pin resting on his jacket. "I'm being paid my general salary, plus bonus and overtime. This is just me being what we Mainlanders call 'nice'."

"Disgusting." Kun muttered. Dejun raised a brow and pursed his lips.

"From what I recall, you were quite a nice person way back then."

"That's in the past." Kun deadpanned. "Things are different now. You know that."

"Storytime?" Dejun asked. "I still have an hour and a half left for our session." Kun balled his hands into fists and sighed. 

With the chains on, he couldn't do anything to Dejun no matter how hard he tried. He didn't want to either. If it was a full-fledged Light citizen, he would have spat on their face. If they were as kind and respectful as Dejun, he'd probably say rude words to them but not genuinely mean it.

"So...what do you say?" Dejun asked, pulling Kun out of his deep thoughts. "You mind opening up a bit more?"

Kun let go of the chains he held tightly and nodded. "Get comfortable."