If they hadn't
stopped for a last quick meal. If they hadn't walked that short-cut.
If they hadn't stopped to call for help.
Kyoko wished for
those ifs, but wishing and doing something about what happened right
now were different things.
For the second
time she watched Yukio getting beaten up when he tried to protect
her, but this time they weren't anywhere close to home, or anywhere
close to where they could expect any help at all.
“Stop! You'll
kill him! Stop!”
She wriggled in
arms holding her. I difference from the last time there was no
groping. Whoever held her simply made certain she didn't rush to
Yukio's help.
Kyoko turned once
more in her captor's hands, but his hold was too tight. She tried
stomping on his feet, threw herself backwards, but nothing helped.
Only a short
distance from her, on the street and curled together like a ball,
Yukio received kick after vicious kick from two men. He had long
since stopped screaming, and she could only hear the occasional moan
when a foot hurt him especially bad.
Stop! Stop!
Stop! Did I shout that? No! “Stop! Stop hurting him!
Help! Help me!”
A hand made
contact with her face when she gathered air to keep screeching. It
searched for her mouth but missed. She wriggled again and managed to
get her entire face free. “Help me! Help us! They're killing him!”
This time the
hands holding her hurt. She flailed some more and screamed some more,
until she received an elbow to her head. Her entire world swam, but a
tiny part of her brain kept its slyness and she sagged a little more
than she really needed to.
For just a moment
those hand released their grip, and that was all she needed to break
free. Kyoko twisted and ran. Two, three, four steps she managed
before her legs were kicked away from under her. As she fell she
turned in the air, and for the first time she saw her captor. Why
don't you look like a monster? Why do you look so normal? Then
she hit the ground and staggered back up on wobbly feet.
Scared!
One of the
grabbing hands had turned into a fist with a knife.
She swivelled to
the left, he grabbed after her with the unarmed hand, and missed.
Yukio!
“Yukio! Help!” She dove for him, but this time that hand managed
to get a hold of her coat. Twisting hard Kyoko broke free once again
and stumbled towards Yukio's prone body.
Her captor missed
her again and growled.
He stabbed her.
Shouldn't it
hurt more than this?
In the distance
gunfire echoed. A ricochet grazed her head.
That hurt. I'm
tired.
***
It stopped
hurting. Then it hurt again, and Yukio woke.
What's going
on. Oh, man, what's with my face? Kyoko!
A slow ache
spread from his jaw to the sides of his head, and then suddenly a
knife sharp pain when he tried to open his mouth.
Around him the
world flashed in red and white light banishing shadows that always
returned just after they fled. There were voices, some talking, some
angrily shouting, and one, one that was barking frantically orders.
Urufu, why
aren't you going home?
Then a man, no
three men, in white and grey leaned over him. They grabbed, and it
hurt again.
***
Hospital? This
has to be a hospital. Yukio saw lamps in the ceiling move backwards,
and it took him a while before he understood that he was rolled
through a corridor on a stretcher.
It's stopped
hurting. He tried to move his head, but it was stuck, and he couldn't
see sideways at all. Some kind of metal towered above him, and from
it cables and tubes flowed down onto his body like some kind of
frozen waterfall.
Unlike before the
world wasn't flashing. It was all white, and the only noise was
subdued voices speaking something that sounded like Japanese, but
there were all these strangely foreign sounding words he couldn't
understand. They weren't English; Yukio would have caught at least
something from it after Urufu's gruelling lessons and their walking
talking sessions throughout summer and autumn.
Kyoko, where
are you? “Kyoko,” he said, but her name came out wrong, and
it hurt just trying to talk.
“Please be
silent. You're hurt and shouldn't speak right now.”
Who are you?
Ah, a nurse? A doctor?
Yukio felt tired,
and he groggily wondered why as he must have just woken up. The
ceiling continued to move backwards and he slid back into sleep.
***
“He's awake.
Thank all gods!”
Huh, what?
This time Yukio
could move his head, and his eyes found Urufu sitting on a chair by
his side.
He felt dizzy,
and his stomach didn't agree with him at all. A sudden wave of unease
forced him to turn and he threw up.
“Shit! Nurse!”
The sound of a
door opening made him turn back again, and Yukio saw a woman
entering. Then he was covered in blankets, and someone cleaned up
beside him.
“We'll need a
fresh set of bedding.”
“I'm on it.”
“Bring a seat
as well. He needs a shower.”
“OK,” the
second of two female voices said before it vanished out the door.
“I need you to
go outside.”
“Of course,”
Urufu answered, and Yukio saw him leave the room as well.
“Young man, you
have a concussion and probably a few fractures. Please be as still as
possible,” the nurse who remained in the room said.
“Where's
Kyoko?” Sure, he was groggy and felt like crap, but that was
nothing compared to not knowing what had happened to her.
“Who?” came
an answer he should have guessed from the beginning.
Yukio began from
the start. “There were two of us. My girlfriend, she should be here
somewhere waiting for me.” Because that was what he hoped. He
suspected the nurse didn't know, but at least he had to chance the
question anyway.
The look he got
in return had his stomach in uproar all again. “She was your
girlfriend? I'm so sorry.”
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