Just because Hong didn't talk a lot, people always thought he was smart. For some reason, the collective opinion of his entire world (not that it was a very large world, mind you, he didn't socialize much) was that people who didn't talk must not feel that those who were listening would be able to understand them.
Yes, yes, twisted logic. Hong hated it. Was it so hard for them to understand that he just didn't like talking? (All right, that was a lie too... He didn't not like talking; he just left it to those better suited.)
Besides the whole 'staying silent most of the time' thing, being a normal high school senior was out of the question for him. Hong had seen what booze could do to people, and didn't want anything to do with the partying or the drugs or the sex.
Really, was everyone stupid in America?
And, as the 1994 Dodge Caravan crashed into his car when he clearly had the right of way, Hong's question was answered.
After that, when the paramedics were wheeling him away with a head injury and a few cracked ribs (those forceful airbags were completely unnecessary; it didn't take much to push Hong back- he wasn't obese like the rest of the world!), seeing the lady who had been driving the other car covered in orange nail polish ("I wasn't painting my nails, Officer! How could you even say something like that?") made Hong think wryly that if his rhetorical question was one of those stupid 'Thesis Statements' his teacher loved to assign, he'd have a plethora of 'evidence' to support it.
"So, are you Japanese? Because you, like, totally look like it. I'm Polish. My name's Feliks. And I, like, totally sympathize with the nail painting lady, because, you know, ya gotta get those nails done right, girl! But, well, like, that shade of orange was, like, hideous. Ew. Vomitrocious! Ha, that's, like, my fav word! Not my fav fabu word, because my fav fabu word would be something like "baby cakes" or something, you know, right? Hello?"
No, really. A plethora.
Thankfully (probably for everyone, because Hong was considering stabbing his IV needle into Feliks' eye. Repeatedly.), Hong passed out on the way to the hospital, and the next time he woke up was in a room that was all white and, frankly, a bit depressing because of it.
He stared at the ceiling for a good three seconds, before he registered movement out of the corner of his eye. Hong slowly turned his head to the right, and abruptly shrieked (the pitch (somewhere between pre-pubescent choir boy and pre-teen girl shrieking about Justin Bieber) was surprising, considering Hong's usual monotone when he deigned to talk to someone) as someone else's head got way too close to his face for comfort.
"Hi! Welcome to the hospital!" The stranger said, grinning, his nose barely an inch from Hong's. "I'm Im Yong Soo, and I'm Korean, and I'm 18, and you're my new roomie!" After waiting for a few seconds for Hong to respond (fat chance), he continued babbling. "The hospital gown is blue, right? And your hair is brown, and so are your eyes. And my hair is dark brown, and my eyes are… black?"
"Your eyes are brown," Hong replied, shutting his mouth tightly a moment after. How had Im Yong Soo managed to get a response out of him so quickly? He barely ever answered his friends' remarks, let alone an odd statement/question by a stranger. Especially this weird 'roomie' with an odd piece of hair that was sticking out one side of his head. Was this some new American fashion? Hong didn't really have time to keep up with the trends… Also, why did he have a roommate? Was the hospital shabby enough that it didn't have enough rooms for everyone? But even if it was, the room he was in did have a large window on the wall opposite from his bed; so they had enough money to afford a good view of the surrounding suburbs. Oh peanut sauce (Hong had a policy against profanity), was he in one of those horror movies where the patient is abducted and held in a creepy hospital and tortured by insane doctors?
Hong covertly leaned to the side and snuck a glance into the hallway: all looked well, it seemed like a normal hospital. Ugly colored walls with annoying murals and way-too-cheerful staff walking around. Hong mentally reprimanded himself; he'd been watching way too many cheap horror flicks lately.
"Awesome, da ze!" Im Yong Soo hopped off Hong's bed (wait, when had he gotten there?) and went to stare at himself in a mirror on his bedside table. "Yeah, my eyes are brown! Thanks!"
Hong had several things with which he could reply, but none of them seemed appropriate. (Option One was: why do you seem to have no idea of the concept of personal space, Option Two: why are you acting like a ditz, Option Three: did the paramedics get my backpack?) So he stuck with his trusty old fallback- silence. He let Im Yong Soo natter on about anything he could think of (it mostly revolved around colors and people's clothes), and lay back. Hong eyed the various needles in his arm, and ventured a guess that his injuries were a bit more extensive than they first seemed.
And, like many guesses the high school honors student ventured, it was correct.
"Excuse me, Yong Soo, but you really shouldn't be out of bed." A nice looking woman walked into the room with a clipboard and tried to get the excited Korean to calm down so she could put a tube back in his arm. Hong mentally wished her luck; but the ridiculously cheerful attitude that Yong Soo had seemed more than a match for a nurse's patience.
"Your hair is brown, but it's a lighter brown then mine, and your eyes are green, and the flower barrettes you wear all the time are pink! And those are your colors! Brown, green, pink. That's Elizaveta, da ze!" Im Yong Soo jabbered, twisting over Elizaveta (the nurse? Doctor? Psycho fake medical practitioner?) to talk to Hong. "You never told me what your name is! Brown, brown, blue, what's your name, da ze?"
"His name is… Hong Kong?" Elizaveta looked at her clipboard, then back at Hong, obviously confused. "Isn't that a city?"
"It's my name," Hong muttered. "Only thing my mother ever gave me…" He mentally kicked himself for mentioning that last part. Pine nuts, they must have him on a drug cocktail to rival the ones at those raves Gilbert was always talking about if he was making obscure references to his childhood.
"Well, Hong," Elizaveta smiled widely; had she not heard the last part of his sentence? "You'll have to be here for a while. Besides your injured ribs, we had a bit of trouble with bone splinters in your lungs- if you'd had a bit more meat on your bones, that airbag wouldn't have done as much damage! And the doctor also found some long-term issues that hadn't been recorded. It seems that you've never been to a hospital; or, if you have, that no one ever wrote anything down!"
"I haven't been to a hospital before," Hong replied, "or, at least, I haven't been to one for anything that was wrong with me." He met the nurse's eyes, almost challenging her to pry a little more, before she looked down and started fiddling with his IV's (they were called IV's, right? Intravenous something? The only hospital slang Hong knew was from watching Korean dramas when he was bored during his writing class).
"Oh, Yong Soo, I was supposed to tell you that the doctor will be visiting you sometime in a the next few days to make sure everything is all hunky dory. And I'll leave now and let you two get to know each other, because you'll probably be sharing this room for a while." Elizaveta, who'd been working as she chattered, flounced out of the room with a cheerful wave over her shoulder. "Hong Kong, don't hurt Yong Soo while I'm gone. Even if he is a little rambunctious, he means well!"
Hong closed his eyes, searching for 'inner patience,' or whatever Zen tofu his very extended semi-family had managed to pound into him in the (very) brief visits for which they (rarely) stopped by.
…
"Hey, Hong Kong? Do you wanna do something? We can watch TV, or talk about stuff, or play hide and seek, or make hand puppets or I can tell you about my favorite TV show to watch- it's called Criminal Minds, and it's so cool! I totally want to be like Agent Hotchner when I get out of here, da ze! "
Rice balls. So much for Zen.
Hong decided not to snap at the (loquacious, that was the word) (not that Hong couldn't have used other, less complimentary adjectives) loquacious Korean. Normally, if he clammed up and didn't respond, the other person would take the hint and silence themselves as well. Unfortunately, that didn't work with Yong Soo.
"Hello? Can you not hear me, da ze? If you can't hear me, then that might be a side effect of the accident you were in, and that's probably not good, so I should call Elizaveta? She's good at being a nurse, da ze!" Yong Soo hopped out of his bed and walked over to Hong Kong, then started poking his face. "Can you feel this? I can poke your face, right, da ze? Your face isn't hurt?"
"I am fine. I am also tired. Just let me sleep." Even for Hong, that was a bit curt. He was normally nicer to people that were trying to be nice to him, and he didn't have anything against the Korean. Right now, though, he was in a bad mood, his head hurt, and he honestly just wanted Yong Soo to shut up and let him rest.
And although Hong would have originally felt like praising every god in the universe if his noisy roommate gave him some peace and quiet, he felt oddly guilty when he heard Yong Soo's tone of voice.
"Ok, da ze. I'll shut up." Yong Soo sounded… well, to quote Dr. Seuss: 'downright despondent, disturbed and depressed.'
Hong Kong opened his eyes and sat up slightly. If he had to live with this chatterbox, he might as well indulge him.
"If you want to talk, you can. I might fall asleep, though, so don't expect me to answer." He lay back down again, and sighed softly, letting Yong Soo natter on.
"Ok, so, because you're tired and stuff, I'll tell you about Criminal Minds, da ze! It's about this unit of criminal psychologists who try to solve crimes by profiling the serial killers, and it's really cool! There was this one episode where this lady- she was a call girl, you know what that is, right? It's a nice word for a whore- was killing her clientele, and then there was another episode with this scary looking guy named Billy Flynn, and he was creepy but he was so cool! There were all these trippy flashbacks and the colors were awesome, da ze!"
Hong Kong drifted off into sleep with Yong Soo's voice ringing in his ears, and the last thing he heard was his roommate saying "And that's how he died. Personally, I'd like to die… not like that. Too much blood. I'd feel bad for whoever had to clean it up."
Needless to say, Hong didn't have the most pleasant dreams that night.
When he woke up, it was to the (also) not-so-pleasant aroma of hospital food. It was like they were trying to give him food poisoning just from the smell and keep him at the hospital longer- cabbages! How was he even going to pay for this? Hong wasn't sure if his dad had even bothered getting him health insurance- he knew he had life insurance though. That bastard (Hong's profanity policy was revoked when it came to his 'dad') wanted to make as much profit off of him as possible. It wasn't like Hong had seen his father in a while though; for all he knew the old idiot was dead.
"Oh, so you're awake? That's cool, da ze, because I was getting a bit worried that you just passed out and went into a coma or something. Do you think if you were in a coma that you'd be able to hear me talking? Because I remember hearing somewhere that people can hear other people talking to them while they're in a coma. Hmm. Maybe next time I think you're in a coma I'll have a code word to say to you so you know you're not dreaming and that it really is me! Alright… hmm… I got it, da ze! Our code word- well, it's two words so it's not really a code word, it's more of a code phrase, but still, da ze! Our code phrase will be 'the bodacious cat's eyebrows!' Got it? Are you even listening, da ze?" Yong Soo hopped off of his bed, ungluing his eyes from the television (Hong thought that the show currently playing was that criminal psychology one that Yong Soo had been talking about before), and leaned over Hong Kong. "Because I've been up for about three hours, but I haven't been watching TV for that long, because it's bad for your eyes. I have to take good care of my eyes- they're like little windows into your soul! Well, everyone should take care of their eyes, but I guess I'm a special part of that everyone! Anyway, da ze, did you understand what I was saying?"
"Yeah. Bodacious cat with eyebrows. Got it." Hong blinked and rubbed his yes a bit, a phrase nagging at the back of his mind. Yong Soo's comment about taking care of his eyes seemed familiar, somehow… And then something else hit him (figuratively, of course. Hong Kong was so sore that he didn't think he'd survive being hit by a kitten. Even an extremely fluffy kitten that weighed less than the mushy apple on his breakfast tray). "That eyebrow comment…" He scowled, and glared at the Korean.
"What about it?" Yong Soo tilted his head to the side, puzzling out what he'd done to make his new friend annoyed. "Oh! No! I wasn't making fun of your eyebrows, da ze! Your eyebrows are awesome!" And then he stuck a finger out and ran it across one of Hong's (admittedly large) eyebrows. Hong's eye twitched in response.
Hong Kong didn't make it a habit to read up on etiquette books from different countries, but he was sure that there was at least one country out there where stroking someone's eyebrows could get your hands cut off. Oh, how badly he wished they were in that country.
"Do you think eyebrows count as facial hair, da ze? And if they do, do eyelashes count too?" Yong Soo mused, messing with the food on Hong's breakfast trey. The Korean picked up a rather pathetic fruit cup, and daintily removed a grape from the mishmash of non-native food.
"What are you doing?" Hong Kong asked (against all better judgment) as he watched his 'roomie' turn the grape over and over in his fingers, examining it.
"This grape is now called Andrew, da ze!" Im Yong Soo exclaimed, holding it up to the light. He turned to Hong with a completely serious expression on his face, and said something that Hong Kong had honestly never thought he'd hear in his life. " And Andrew has a lovely, curvaceous body."
Hong was able to hold in his laughter (for a grand total of two seconds) before doubling over with mirth, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep inside him that he'd thought had dried up a long time ago. Before long Yong Soo was laughing as well, a smile stretching across his face as he saw the tears gathering in Hong's eyes as the other boy desperately tried to control his chuckles.
The two boys were so engrossed in the hilarity that they didn't see Elizaveta; face pressed to the glass panel in the door and secretly taking pictures of them.
"They're so cute!" She squealed (softly, though, there was a patient in room 19B who didn't take kindly to his rest being disturbed). Elizaveta swore she could see the flower of love blossoming between the two-
Uh-oh. That definitely wasn't love.
Elizaveta stuffed her new camera into her cleavage (oh, the wonders of technology. Thin, tiny cameras were just so convenient) and rushed into the room, pushing Yong Soo off of Hong as she tried to get Hong to lay flat.
"Hong Kong, you're bleeding again. I think your stitches may have ripped, but this could also be another injury that the ER technicians missed. You need to lay down and stay still so I can see what's going on, okay?" As Elizaveta was speaking, she slit Hong's hospital gown with her thumbnail, internally wincing at the blood that was getting under her fingernails. Hong had tested negative for all kinds of Hepatitis and every other blood transmitted disease they could think of, though, so she wasn't worried about catching something. Just worried about how long it would take to get dried blood off her newly manicured nails.
Yong Soo was hovering anxiously, worried that his joke had made Hong rupture something important. What was the point of spleen, anyway? Was it bad if it -or they- ripped?
Elizaveta sponged off the excess blood with the napkin on Hong's breakfast trey, and sighed in relief when she realized that it was only his stitches that had split. The kid had enough problems (physical, psychological, and familial, if that notebook she'd found in his backpack was telling the truth) without internal bleeding to add to the list.
"Alright, Hong Kong." Elizaveta pursed her lips and appraised the now-pale teenager. "You'll need to keep relatively still while I page the doctors so they can sew you back up again. And Yong Soo," she turned to look at the Korean. "Try not to make him laugh that hard again, okay? Something worse could happen next time."
"Okay, da ze," Yong Soo nodded, looking unusually somber (for the few hours that Hong had known him). "But he'll be okay, right?"
"Yes, Hong Kong will be fine. He just can't laugh until his skin starts to heal, or his stitches will rip again." Elizaveta's attention was already directed elsewhere as she contacted a doctor to re-stitch Hong Kong. She felt sort of bad for telling the teenager that he couldn't laugh- but, she reasoned, not as bad as she'd feel if he died because she let him giggle to his heart's content.
Even though Hong didn't look the type to giggle, she couldn't take chances. Well, actually, giggling technically wouldn't be as bad for him as laughing in a manly manner, but still. It was the principal of the thing that mattered.
"So, is there anything else I shouldn't do or I'll die?" Hong Kong raised an eyebrow at Elizaveta, and she stared at him for a second before answering.
"Well, I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not, so I'll assume you aren't. Following that assumption- sorry, but you'll have to ask a doctor about the specifics. The best advice I can give is that besides trying not to laugh is to not move around too much. Your stitches will do what they're supposed to if you stay still, and then you'll heal just fine. I'm not saying you have to be a statue or anything, just avoid too much strenuous physical exertion." Elizaveta smiled and wiggled her fingers in a tiny wave before strolling out of the room as the doctor walked in.
Hong Kong lay as still as he could while the doctor poked and prodded him, and occasionally asked questions that were way too personal. He glanced over at Yong Soo, and found himself slightly dismayed that the Korean looked sad, and sort of guilty. And, for some odd reason, that was actually annoying to Hong Kong. While he'd only known Yong Soo for a little while, the Korean just didn't look right without a smile on his face. Ignoring the tiny voice inside him that said that Hong should be worried that he was spending so much time considering Yong Soo's feelings after only having known him for a little while, Hong decided that he needed to remedy this. After all, it really wasn't Yong Soo's fault about his stitches, so he shouldn't look guilty.
Hong raised his head, and then let it fall back into his pillow, the soft thump enough to grab Yong Soo's attention. The Korean looked over in time to see Hong Kong cross his eyes and stick his tongue out for a brief moment, and then return to his usual poker face.
Yong Soo's mouth twitched upward, and then, as Hong Kong took a breath and puffed his cheeks out and widened his eyes so he resembled a goldfish, Yong Soo grinned and started laughing.
"I fail to see what is funny about this man's injuries," the doctor said coolly, "but if his pain amuses you, Im Yong Soo, perhaps we can find a new roommate for you."
"Nope, it's cool, Roddy!" Yong Soo said quickly, stifling his chuckles. "I like Hong Kong, da ze! He's really cool and he's funny and he likes Girls Generation like me! K-pop is amazing!"
The doctor –Roderich Edelstein, according to his nametag- didn't seem to like the nickname much, Hong Kong noticed.
"… How did you know I liked that group?" Hong Kong asked nervously. Was Yong Soo a mind reader or a stalker? Had Hong been talking in his sleep?
"Your backpack is next to your bed, da ze! I sort of looked through it and found your iPod…" Yong Soo rubbed his palms on his thighs anxiously, realizing that Hong could view that as an invasion of privacy, and get mad at him for it. He wasn't trying to be rude; he'd just wanted to know more about his new roomie!
"Did you open the notebook?" Hong Kong tried to keep his voice steady and not let his worry show through. If the Korean had looked at his notebook, he was totally screwed.
"No, just your iPod, da ze!" Yong Soo answered, relieved that it didn't seem like he'd done anything wrong in Hong Kong's book.
Hong Kong nodded and closed his eyes again, letting a deep breath out through his nose as Doctor Edelstein finished re-stitching him.
"I've used some stronger material for stitches this time," the doctor informed Hong Kong, "and they should allow you a wider range of motion without having to be redone. Just don't exert yourself and you'll be fine."
Hong's eyes opened again as the doctor turned to talk to Yong Soo. Hong wouldn't admit it out loud, but he wanted to know for what Im Yong Soo was in the hospital.
"It's time for your vision check-up now; you should have been informed by Elizaveta that I'd be here. You seem to be progressing nicely, so all we'll need to do is a reading and color test." Hong Kong could see Dr. Edelstein remove a piece of paper from the pocket of his white coat, unfold it and smooth it out. "Now, first tell me what the word says, and then what color it's printed in."
Yong Soo grinned at the challenge and snatched the paper. "First word: yellow. Color: black! Hey, da ze, yellow and black! Like Pikachu! Second word: purple, color: green. This is easy, da ze!"
"I see you've been practicing colors," Dr. Edelstein nodded approvingly as the Korean continued down the list, apparently getting every one right.
"How'd I do, da ze?" Hong Kong watched Yong Soo ask as he handed the paper back to the doctor.
"Very well; your rate of improvement is quite good. I'll be back soon to give you another test, but for now you can continue getting to know your roommate- as long as you don't make him rip any more stitches." The doctor pushed his glasses further up on this bridge of his nose and left the room.
"If you don't mind me asking…" Hong Kong kept his eyes on the form of the doctor through the window as he voiced his inquiry, "why are you in the hospital?"
As soon as the question left his mouth, the internal battle started. The part of him that sounded like a psychologist said that it was a nice thing to ask, and it was good that he was showing interest in other people instead of being self absorbed and not caring. The part of Hong Kong that had kept him sane throughout his life so far was screaming that getting involved with other people would only lead to disappointment; that it wasn't worth getting to know Yong Soo because he'd be out of the hospital soon enough, and that if he asked personal questions about Yong Soo then the Korean would ask questions back, and that Hong wasn't prepared to answer those.
"It's actually a pretty cool story, da ze!" Yong Soo grabbed a chair and pulled it over to Hong's bed, then sat on it so he was straddling the back of the chair. "See, when I was born, I was blind. I lived my whole life like that, da ze- and I was pretty messed up because of it. The 'da ze' thing I say all the time- that started because I thought everyone else was like me, that they couldn't see, da ze. So I said 'da ze' so people would know that it was me because they could hear me saying da ze, and no one else I knew said that. According to the doctor we saw, I used it so much it turned into a speech tic, so I say it all the time now. I also had to have one of my parents dress me because I didn't know what anything looked like, da ze. If I tried to pick out my own clothes I'd end up wearing stripes and spots together or something, da ze! So, I was blind until a little bit ago, da ze. My parents had heard about a test program and signed me up for it. The program was to see if they could transplant eyes and get them to work- and who better to test them on than a blind person, da ze! So, I got new eyes a week or two ago, which is why I'm still in the hospital and the doctors do vision tests and stuff, da ze. And you're also probably wondering why we're in the same room, da ze. I asked them if I could have a roomie because I was getting kinda lonely; I always used to have someone following me around at home so I wouldn't get hurt, da ze. So, when you showed up and they didn't know if you could pay or anything, they put you in the same room as me so you technically weren't using a room that could be used for someone else. So… any more questions, da ze?" Yong Soo tilted his head to the side and blinked at Hong Kong, who was mulling over the information he'd learned.
"Not really," Hong replied. "If there was that much more to the story that you wanted me to know, you would have told me."
Hong was just speaking his mind (which was something he chalked up to the drug cocktail- the speaking itself, not the content), so he found it rather surprising that Yong Soo almost immediately started crying.
"Are… Are you okay?" Hong asked tentatively, not sure what to do. He didn't have much experience with consoling sobbing teenagers, and he was rendered even more helpless by the fact that he didn't know about what the Korean was crying!
"Yeah," Yong Soo sniffed and wiped his eyes gingerly, "it's just that you're the first person I've met who didn't bug me with a ton of questions, da ze. I guess I just got over-emotional about you being nice, da ze. You respected my privacy, and…" Yong Soo broke into a fresh wave of tears, but this time it was intermixed with hiccups and something that sounded like laughter. "And you probably think I have tons of issues, da ze."
Hong Kong regarded his possibly emotionally imbalanced roommate with trepidation. "Is there anything else that makes you freak out that I should know about? Or are you on medicine that's making you emotional?" Hong looked past the somewhat unresponsive Korean to the window, and noticed with a small flare of joy that it was raining. "Is it the weather?"
At that, Yong Soo turned abruptly to look out the window, and gasped in what Hong Kong assumed was surprise.
"It's raining!" The Korean exclaimed; his tears forgotten about. Yong Soo jumped off of his chair and ran to the window, fingers splayed against the glass as his eyes drank in the view eagerly. "I've never seen rain before! I wish I could go feel it, da ze…"
Hong Kong appraised the teenager in front of him, a small portion of his mind wondering how Yong Soo managed to make it through the days with so much that was mundane to others but so new to him.
As Hong was watching Yong Soo, a small idea began to formulate. Hong reached over and tapped the 'call nurse' button, hoping that it was Elizaveta who answered, and not someone else.
Hong Kong thought that he must have done something to get good karma when Elizaveta skipped through the doorway.
"You called?" She appraised Hong Kong, not seeing any new blood or medical crises.
Hong Kong braced himself before he made his request; he wasn't used to asking things of other people, especially to benefit someone who wasn't himself. "It's Yong Soo's first time seeing rain, and I thought… He might want to go outside." Hong bit his lip as soon as he was finished; he had only spoken was only a few sentences, but it seemed like a monologue of epic proportions to the socially awkward teenager.
Elizaveta reevaluated Hong Kong, and then her mouth stretched into a smile so wide it looked painful. "You're such a sweetie," she cooed, tapping Hong's nose with her fingertip. She then spun around to face Yong Soo, her brown hair almost hitting Hong Kong in the face. "We're going on a field trip, hon!" Elizaveta announced, holding up a finger before Yong Soo could start asking questions. "We'll go outside to see the rain; you're well enough to get out of the room, and it shouldn't be too hard to get a wheelchair to make sure Hong Kong stays as still as possible!"
"This sounds awesome, da ze!" Yong Soo cheered, his face lighting up.
Elizaveta skipped out of the room to get the wheelchair she'd mentioned, and Yong Soo ran over to Hong, his face brighter than the harsh lights that illuminated the room.
"That was awesome, Hong!" The Korean beamed. "You don't have head trauma, right? So I can do this, da ze!" Without waiting for Hong Kong to answer, Yong Soo stuck his hand in Hong's hair, ruffling it affectionately. "I can't believe I get to go out and see the rain! I mean, I've heard rain before, but now I get to feel it and see it, da ze!"
Hong Kong registered an anxious thought in the back of his mind; asking him why he wasn't freaking out by now. He wasn't the biggest fan of personal contact, and nearly had panic attacks when people tried to hug him. But now, Yong Soo had his hands all over Hong's head, and nothing was happening. Not the usual twisting in the pit of his stomach or the British voice (that sounded suspiciously like an acquaintance of his) telling him to punch whoever was touching him in the face. For some odd reason, the Korean had managed to worm his way into Hong Kong's affections, albeit the fact that Hong Kong had never had so much as an actual friend in his life, and now he was letting a boy he'd met less than a week ago fondle his hair and intrude way into Hong's personal space without repercussions. It wasn't pity for Yong Soo's previous blindness that was making Hong be this nice; Hong Kong's muddled mind could figure that much out. It was something else… Something that Hong didn't want to think about, and thankfully, didn't have to, because at that moment Elizaveta appeared with his wheelchair.
"Let's go, boys!" She cheered, maneuvering the chair to Hong's bedside. Hong had a feeling that someone in his condition wasn't supposed to be moving around, much less taking a wheelchair ride to go frolic in the rain. Not that Hong Kong intended to do much frolicking, but still.
"You'll be fine," Elizaveta winked at Hong and set to pulling out all the tubes that were attached to him. Hong realized –somewhat thankfully- that he didn't have a catheter, and chalked it up to the fact that he couldn't remember eating or drinking in the past two days, so there was nothing to come out. "We'll be back inside before they know we're gone, and I swear it won't hurt your recovery one bit."
Hong Kong didn't really trust that promise, but then again, she was the nurse and he was the patient.
Come to think of it, he didn't really trust that arrangement either.
"Let's get going, da ze!" Yong Soo's exclamation interrupted Hong's musing, and the unlikely trio set out into the hallway and then, the great outdoors.
Hong Kong thought that most of the people they passed in the hallway must have thought that Yong Soo had mild epilepsy, or at the very least, neck spasms from the constant twitching of the Korean's head as he turned and twisted to take in all the new views. Once again, Hong was surprised that Yong Soo wasn't curled in a gibbering ball on the floor from sensory overload; Hong Kong certainly would have been if he'd gone through what the Korean had.
Elizaveta wheeled Hong into the elevator and motioned for Yong Soo to follow them, and then pressed the button for the ground floor. Her foot was tapping on the floor, and Hong wondered why this woman was so excited. They were just going outside; it wasn't like they were going to see the Pope or something.
"There's an enclosed garden on the first floor for long-term patients," Elizaveta mentioned, presumably to quell any doubts about being wheeled through the front doors and left on the sidewalk next to the reserved parking spaces to watch the rain. "We can go there and you two will fit in perfectly."
Yong Soo was so excited that he didn't even answer verbally, Hong Kong noted. The Korean just shivered and bounced on the balls of his feet, then practically sprinted out of the elevator doors when they reached the first floor.
"Hurry, da ze! Hurry!" Yong Soo called, running down the hallway and towards a door through which Hong could vaguely see green.
"The rain isn't going to disappear," Elizaveta smiled and shook her head, but Hong Kong noticed that she picked up her pace to catch up with the other patient. "He's like a little kid," she said softly, softly enough that Hong Kong didn't know if he was supposed to be hearing what she said. "He's so excited about every little thing, because it's all so new to him."
Hong looked up at the brunette as she looked down at him and a corner of her mouth quirked up. "I think you'll be good for him." Not pausing to explain her statement, Elizaveta told Yong Soo to hold the door open for Hong Kong as she steered his chair onto one of the garden's paths and into the rain.
Hong Kong watched as Yong Soo let the door close and immediately shot off into the garden, his bare feet slapping on the wet, paved stones and his face turned towards the sky.
"Should he be wearing shoes?" Hong asked Elizaveta, deciding not to make a big deal about getting damp from the drizzle of rain. After all, it was making Yong Soo happy, if his loud laughs were anything to judge by.
"His parents told me that he spent a lot of his life barefoot so he could 'see' where he was going," Elizaveta responded. "He told me himself that he doesn't like shoes, because he 'saw' with his feet for so long. If you're worried about him getting cut or scratched, you shouldn't be. The hospital has people to take care of the plants and the paths; there are a lot of patients for whom even a small injury could be deadly."
Hong Kong felt part of the knot of worry that was gathering beneath his breastbone relax, and he leaned back into the chair, wincing a bit as his ribs were jostled. The pain wasn't bad, probably because there was still medication in his system, but he was still a bit uncomfortable.
Whatever discomfort Hong felt was negligible though; completely wiped out by the radiance of Yong Soo's smile as he twirled in the rain and stomped in puddles like a child. Hong Kong decided –much to his surprise- that it was worth being damp to the bone if Yong Soo was smiling like that.
"This is great, da ze!" Yong Soo said breathlessly as he plopped down on a bench next to where Hong was parked after a good few minutes of enjoying himself in the downpour. "I've been rained on before, da ze, but it's so much cooler when you can see the raindrops!" He waved an arm to illustrate his point, and scattered water all over Hong. "You're soaked, da ze!" Yong Soo prodded Hong Kong's saturated hospital robe (Hong Kong belatedly realized that Yong Soo was wearing usual teenage attire- jeans and a t-shirt, probably because he didn't have anything wrong with him that would make doctors require the access that hospital robes gave). "Should we go back in before he gets sick, Ms. Lizzy?"
"Of course, dear," Elizaveta smiled at Yong Soo. "Have you had enough time in the rain?"
"Well, the rain is getting heavier," Yong Soo motioned to the darkening sky. "And Hong is probably cold, da ze."
The nurse looked down at Hong Kong and mentally facepalmed; in her eagerness to get the boys outside, she'd completely forgotten to get him a coat or an umbrella. "We should probably get inside, I wouldn't want you two to catch cold."
"That was so great, da ze!" Yong Soo was bubbling over with excitement as they made their way back to the hospital room. "The raindrops were so cool! They were there, I could see them, but they were still sort of see-through, da ze! I just wish that there was a rainbow, that would be amazing!"
"There will probably be one when the rain stops," Hong Kong tried to console the Korean, hoping to avoid another instant case of depression.
"If there is, will you stay up and look for it with me, da ze?" Yong Soo looked at Hong hopefully, and the other teenager could do nothing but nod.
Hong Kong tuned out the Korean's excited chattering about how fun it would be to stay up all night with his new roomie, and kept his mouth closed during the short trip. He spent the time thinking about how he'd been talking more than usual the past day and a half or so- had it been that little since he'd met Yong Soo? It felt like more than that. Normally Hong Kong was content to sit and be silent; people would come to him for advice, ramble while he sat and nodded, and would happen upon a solution in their incessant nattering- and then go away satisfied, without any actual involvement from Hong himself. It wasn't often that he had the chance to participate in a conversation, much less hold one with a boy who was quickly becoming more than a somewhat irksome roommate. Hong Kong had developed his wall of non-verbosity as a way to ward off other people; if they thought they were being ignored, then most likely they would stomp off in a huff. If someone genuinely wanted to get to know him, then they'd ignore the taciturnity and persist, as Yong Soo had done. There hadn't been many like Yong Soo, and to Hong Kong's dismay, the way in which he regarded Yong Soo seemed to be going beyond the appreciation of someone on the level of a 'friend.' The Korean had managed to integrate himself into Hong Kong's mind, heart, and life in a way no one else had, and in a ridiculously small amount of time. Hong hadn't really had many people who took an interest in him -that one British acquaintance aside- and while he knew that bonding with someone so fast should worry him, all he felt was a deep sense of right. That in some deep way, he was supposed to meet Yong Soo, and that that would make up for the giant pile of crap his life had been so far.
Right after coming to that conclusion, Hong Kong came to another one- they must have him on more drugs than he'd thought, if he was trying to put some whole 'cosmic karma' spin on his budding relationship with Yong Soo.
"Here we are!" Elizaveta announced, and ushered the two patients into their room. "I'll be back with some towels and a new robe for Hong Kong. Do you have a change of clothes, Yong Soo?"
"Of course, da ze!" Yong Soo traipsed over to a suitcase next to his bed. "My parents don't know when I'll be well enough to be out of here, so instead of moving me to a long-term facility, I just keep some stuff here, da ze." He explained to Hong Kong.
Hong Kong nodded, and kept his eyes pointed downwards when Yong Soo started to strip shamelessly.
"What are you doing?" Hong asked, working to keep his voice at a monotone instead of the shocked squeak he knew it could morph into if he gave it the chance.
"I'm changing, da ze! My old clothes are wet, didn't you notice?" Hong heard Yong Soo's wet pair of jeans slap against the floor, and swallowed involuntarily.
"Yes, but why aren't you changing behind a curtain or in a bathroom or something? People could see you." Hong regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.
"I'm not embarrassed about how I look, da ze." Yong Soo chuckled as he slipped some new pants on. "And it's not like there are creepers looking at me through the doorway or the window or anything. I'd probably find a curtain if I had to change my boxers, but they didn't get wet, da ze."
Hong Kong promised himself that he'd stay quiet until the nurse came back with his new hospital robe (he knew that they were technically called gowns, but robe sounded manlier), and therefore keep his foot out of his mouth. Unfortunately, that was too short of a time for his liking.
"Here you go," Elizaveta chirped, barely seconds after Hong made his mental promise. She set a folded robe and two towels on Hong's bed before turning to leave. "You two are big boys; you can get yourselves dried, dressed, and decent, right?" Without waiting for an answer, the nurse slipped through the doorway and closed the door behind her. Hong stared at the door, and nearly jumped when she poked her head back in. "I'll be back in 15 minutes or so to hook you back up to everything, Hong!"
Once again, Hong couldn't help but get the feeling that Elizaveta was not following standard nurse protocol. In fact, she seemed to be abandoning him on purpose so he'd be alone with Yong Soo, for whatever reason. Hong didn't feel like spending too much of his time attempting to figure out the ulterior motives of slightly scary, possibly psychopathic nurses.
"Do you need help getting dried off, da ze?" Yong Soo picked up one of the towels and waved it at Hong Kong. "I don't think you're supposed to move a lot when your ribs are messed up, so… I could help, if you want, da ze." Yong Soo's enthusiasm sort of trailed off at the end of his offer.
"I don't think I have any other choice," Hong Kong replied reluctantly. Yong Soo's smile slipped back onto his face, and he unceremoniously ripped the damp robe off Hong's body. It was saturated enough that it gave like wet paper, and Hong sent a quick telepathic thank you to whomever decided to leave him some shreds of dignity- and by shreds of dignity, Hong meant his boxers.
"Tell me if I'm messing with any of your injuries, da ze?" Yong Soo asked as he started toweling Hong off.
"I'm not a total invalid," Hong could feel his face getting redder as Yong Soo finished with his arms and upper chest and started moving lower.
"You've been really nice to me so far, da ze," Hong frowned when Yong Soo didn't directly address his statement. "I just want to help you out! Besides, da ze, remember that Roddy and Ms. Lizzy both told you not to move around too much. This way, you get dry and you're not moving!"
While Hong couldn't refute the Korean's logic, being toweled off by someone who wasn't family or a medical professional still left a funny taste in his mouth. Not a bad taste, necessarily, just… funny.
Hong blinked when water droplets were suddenly dripping into his eyes, and registered that Yong Soo was briskly toweling off his hair.
"You have a lot of hair," the Korean remarked offhandedly. "It doesn't really look like it, but it's soft, da ze."
"… Thank you?" Hong was embarrassed when his answer came out as more of a question, complete with a semi-girly voice crack at the end. Yong Soo showed more tact than Hong thought he had when he decided not to comment on it, and instead folded the towel neatly on the bed and grabbed the new robe.
"Do you need to get out of the chair to put this on?" Yong Soo inquired, and when Hong nodded, moved to help the other boy up. "If you'll lean on me, da ze, I think it'll be super easy to put the robe thingy on."
Hong bit his lip again as he hoisted himself out of the chair and leaned into Yong Soo's deceptively broad chest. It wasn't that his new friend looked like a stick or anything, (if anything, it was a baguette or, maybe, a lollipop) but Hong Kong had definitely not expected the Korean to have a strong, solid, warm… Hong's eyes widened exponentially, and he clamped his molars onto the inside of his cheek to stop his thoughts from going any further.
"You're decent, da ze!" Yong Soo gently deposited Hong onto his bed and shoved the wheelchair away with his foot. While Hong had been lost in his fantasy world, Yong Soo had somehow gotten him dressed.
Odd.
Elizaveta mentally squealed again as she snapped some more pictures through the conveniently placed window in the door. Those two were so adorable! But now that the almost-cuddling was done with, she really needed to get Hong Kong hooked up again, or her ass was on the line for maltreatment. There was no way the yaoi-loving nurse was letting that happen, especially with this delicious new development.
"Let's fix you up again," she swung the door open, taking care not to clock Yong Soo or slam into the discarded wheelchair.
"About time," she heard Hong Kong mutter as she started plunging needles back into his arm.
"Alright," Elizaveta brushed her hands off with the air of someone who was overly competent for the task they had been assigned, and snatched the towels and ruined robe to dispose of before her little excursion was discovered. "I'll be leaving now. You two dolls have fun!" While she was a little peeved to be missing the growing relationship between the two teenagers, the nurse did (unfortunately) have other patients to attend to. Damn.
After an hour or three of watching Criminal Minds with the room's lights off while the rain pounded harder on the roof, Hong Kong resigned himself to the fact that they were probably in for a thunderstorm that night. It wasn't that he was frightened, just that the noise interrupted his sleep. And if any unpleasant childhood memories stemmed from thunderstorms, Hong Kong did his best to bury them as deep as possible.
When the first whip of lightning snaked across the sky, Hong Kong was absorbed in watching the blood pulse through the veins on his wrist, made all the more apparent by the pale tint his skin had been acquiring recently as he spent less time outside. He wasn't expecting anything unusual to happen, and, as such, he nearly crapped himself when Yong Soo shrieked and almost fell off his bed.
"What… what was that, da ze?" Yong Soo asked anxiously, staring wide-eyed through the window on his side of the room.
"What was what?" Hong Kong was jolted out of his reverie, and honestly a bit confused.
"The lines in the sky, da ze!" Yong Soo flinched at the resounding boom of thunder, gasping and shivering.
"It's lightning," Hong Kong responded, looking at the terrified Korean. Was he going to wet himself or something?"
"… Lightning?" Yong Soo repeated, looking back out the window in time to see another flash of the brilliant light. "This is the first time I've seen it, da ze." He whispered, entranced –and also quite terrified, if his quaking was anything to go by- by the show playing out in the night sky.
"Are you… scared?" Words of concern felt thick on Hong Kong's tongue, but he supposed he would have to get used to them if he were to be around Yong Soo for much longer.
"Yes," was the whispered answer, accompanied by a hasty retreat across the room towards Hong Kong's bed.
Hong looked at the quivering teenager huddled in a chair next to his bed, and made a decision that he knew would either make or break whatever had been happening between the roommates so far.
"If you want," he started, not sure how to phrase his offer. "You could share my bed until the storm's over."
Hong lifted the blanket as he saw a pair of large brown eyes rise above the back of the chair.
Yong Soo didn't hesitate; at the next flash of lightning he was scrambling into the bed next to Hong Kong. Hong lay on his back and wrapped the arm without the protruding tubes around Yong Soo's shoulders.
"It's alright," he found himself murmuring as the Korean's shudders died down. "I'll protect you from the storm." Hong didn't know where the words came from; they spilled from his mouth as suddenly as the lightning sped from the earth to the clouds.
"Really, da ze?" Yong Soo opened his eyes and turned so he was face to face with Hong Kong, their noses almost touching.
"Yes," Hong answered, trying to fight the blush he knew was rising in his cheeks.
"Hong," Yong Soo twitched a bit at the next thunderclap, but didn't go into full out spasms– an improvement, in Hong Kong's eyes. "You're different from anyone else who I've met, da ze. You're quiet, but you have a lot to say, and you're nice, and you bite your lip a lot, and you asked if we could go out in the rain for me, even though you could've gotten in trouble, da ze." Hong's mind was racing as he tried to keep up with what Yong Soo was saying- he was hearing the words, but taking too long to register the meaning. "I like you, Hong Kong," Yong Soo finished, his eyes shining with honesty in the darkened room.
Hong didn't know what to say back, so he resorted to what was quickly becoming a fallback with Yong Soo- he opened his mouth and let something deep inside him talk for him; something that he thought was ruined a long time ago.
"You're different too," he swallowed, hoping that he could trust his instinct not to make him sound like a babbling idiot. "You're always so happy, and you look at everything with this… this wonder, like everything in the world is so bright and new and pretty. I want to be able to see the world that way, and I want to spend more time with you, Yong Soo." Some part of Hong Kong realized that he should be feeling mortified for having opened up to someone who could practically be classified as a stranger, but a larger part of him was resonating with that sense of right that he'd felt before.
Yong Soo stared at the flushing teenager, scant inches away from him, and felt his mouth curve up into a smile. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hong Kong's, feeling like less of a fool when the other Asian responded.
The two passed the night like that, curled together in a rickety hospital bed, swapping kisses and stories, getting to know each other and both hoping, with all of their hearts, that what they felt within them would be able to last.
Authoress' Random Ramble
This is the first part of a two part, huge ass story. The second part will be posted as a second chapter tomorrow- or, rather, later today, considering it's 1:20 a.m. right now.
This lovely piece of amazing is dedicated to the most wonderful, caring, psychopathic friend that anyone could ask for- or, rather, dream of, because her personality is above and beyond even the brightest conscious imagination. She is always there for me whenever I need her, listens to my depressing rants and 20 minute voicemails, fangirls with me when our teachers unknowingly mention Hetalia related topics in class, puts up with my horrendous drawing, bakes me cookies, and, most of all- supports whatever I write, even if it's ridiculous or stupid or a pairing she doesn't love. She's always there for me, and if I can be one-tenth of the person she is, then I can die happy.
Rino, I love you- and happy birthday.
Less than three, less than three