Author's Note: /Hello Everyone~ Eein SilenceJudge here! This isn't my first fanfic, but it is the first one in a long time and I'm not even sure I want to publish it. I hope it appeals to some people however. The rating is subject to change as time goes on. The main pairing is TakaoxMidorima because they're precious babies and there are side pairings that will pop up throughout this little thing. If I'm not getting much of a response, I'll probably stop posting chapters but even if there's a few people that seem to enjoy it, I can continue on. Here's the prologue and I hope you enjoy~ (the chapters will be longer, I hope, but I didn't feel the need to expand yet on the prologue)
The air is too cold for him to function. His breath comes in short puffs of air, visible to him through the one eye that is actually working. His glasses are broken beyond repair and the sardonic voice inside of him can sense he won't even need them by the time this is over. The glass fragments lay around him. Somewhere a vase broke. That was the stinging in his arm and head. The pain in his right eye is excruciating but somehow it feels far away. His body trembles. There is blood pooled around him. It's gotten beneath his clothes, making the fabric cling to his back. How is he alive?
Shintaro Midorima cannot remember how he came to be there, laying on the wooden floor of his hall. Where were his parents? They were...they...there had been a note. It was their anniversary so they had gone out to eat dinner leaving him to his own devices. What did he do when he had gotten home? He had...he had..had prepared his own dinner. He remembered doing homework, bits and pieces of equations coming to mind as his sluggish mind began to think. What then? Oh. The lights were off. It was like blinking and things were different. This had caused disorientation. His glasses were askew on his face and he had to sit up from a slumped position he had not been in before. Had he fallen asleep? He was unable to remember. Had the light bulb burst? Had he fallen asleep (falling asleep was the most logical answer to how this came to be).
He remembered his fingers touching the light switch when it hit him. Something hit him hard enough to make him tumble to the ground. His responses weren't quick but they were enough to keep him from touching the ground the first time. He was hit again from a different angle and crashed into the wall. The stand holding a vase trembled and he blacked out. Something was entering his ears, surrounded by foggy in-coherency. He had felt the usually warm air turn to ice. When Midorima had gained enough strength to open his eyes the sight had been horrendous. Face cloud in darkness he could only see the widening smile of white teeth dripping in something that could not have been saliva. Being held above him was a pair of scissors and before he could even react, the blade was being embedded in his right eye. He remembered, little more than writhing around in agony before passing out. When he came to, the bleeding male was already alone. Contemplative silence stretched for hours.
Help. Me.
He woke up to the cliched white light of a too bright hospital room. There are three people in the room with him, the doctor, his mother and his father. He can hear them and yet the words fly over his head. He feels languid. He must have been given a sedative to dull the pain he was in. No doubt along with the wound to the eye, he had sustained other injuries as well. There was too much blood for that to not be the case. He opens his mouth to speak but find that no words are forthcoming. After short moments, he feels like a fish and it's thoroughly exhausting. He's gained someone's attention however. His mother turns towards him.
"H-honey, you're awake." she's a small fragile woman, kindhearted and always worried over one thing or another. She is not his real mother. His mother died in an..an accident. This woman is also his mother however. He loves her the same. She's by his side in an instant, placing her small hands on his forehead. Her lips are soon to follow and he feels a bit of warmth from her. Her concern for him is touching and he closes his eye. One eye. The other, if it's still there, is bandaged. This realization takes what little energy he had left after his attempts to speak and he sinks into the bed.
The footsteps of someone else is clear in his ears, louder than ever before. It must be his loss of vision. Midorima can tell his body is attempting to make up for the handicap. He feels helpless for the first time in his life. "Shintaro Midorima." it's the doctor speaking. He opens his eye in an attempt to become attentive. He needs to listen to what the doctor wants to tell him. "You're right eye has been gauged out and you sustained several stab wounds, none of which are life threatening. You have been asleep for the past four days, long enough for your body to stabilize and the blood you lost to be regained. I have discussed with your parents the option of having eye surgery-"
"I don't want it."
The room quieted as the doctor ceased speaking, cut off by the adamant voice of his patience. It was surprising. The mother looked as if she would burst into tears at any moment and the father had an uncomfortable expression painted across his features. Shintaro looked thoroughly exhausted and he wondered where the energy to vehemently protest a suggestion had come from. Clearing his throat he continued on. "We're going to hold you until we have figured out what you wish to do about your current situation. Please do not make a hasty decision. A nurse will be on call for the duration of your stay. Press the button if you are feeling uncomfortable or cannot sleep." with that, the middle aged man strolled out of the room, leaving the tense atmosphere.
"H-honey.." his mother was the first to speak. He could hear the tears in her voice alone and when he looked at her he was not surprised to see her crying. Lethargically he lifted an arm and managed to place a hand atop her head, offering some form of comfort. "W-why don't you want the surgery?" she burst into heavy sobs then, bowing her head as she cried. He watched his father come to her side and sit there, arms wrapped around her small shoulders. Midorima did not have a bad relationship with his father. It was rather ambiguous. Rarely did he ask the man for anything and rarely did the man interfere with anything. It was an unspoken agreement. Midorima was a quiet child by nature and he did well academically. If he kept his grades in line then he could do as he wished.
"Are you sure about this? If not a surgery that will allow you to see again then it will have to be a prosthetic."
How to answer. Was he sure? No. He could hardly discern where his opposition had come from. He was too tired to think about anything. "School?" he asked instead, feeling himself begin to drift. His head was swimming.
"We..we can get your classwork if that's what you want." there was hesitation there. Midorima's father watched his son drift off into sleep without answering again. The crying of his wife was enough to make him hesitant all its own. Was he doing the best for his child? He loved his son, his only child. There was nothing he wouldn't give or do for him. Midorima asked for little. He had an allowance that came with his straight A's. He was top of his class and diligent. Who was he to deny him what he wanted..for his own good or not.
"Y...es.." he managed to get out before the medication did its work and dragged him back down to sleep.
When he awoke again, a full day had passed. He was feeling exceptionally better, a surprise in itself. They had stitched him up while he was sedated, said the wound itself would be healed in a couple of wees. He would be held in the hospital for a while longer. The doctor had placed his homework in the chair beside his bed and told him to not overexert himself. He was left alone for the remainder of the day.
It was like clockwork, the way he went through problem after problem. He was caught up on assignments by the time he stopped for bed. He had worked more than six hours and words, numbers, everything was beginning to blend together. A thought fluttered through his brain, a memory he had managed to escape as he busied himself. It sent shivers down his spine.
He recalled the moment of fear he felt, lying on the cold wood of his home. Like now, in the hospital room all alone, it was quiet. There was no sound and he had no hope left to give. He had been loosing blood and growing cold. Midorima drew the thin blanket of his around him, laying in bed. He tried to fill his thoughts with other things. Deftly, he reached out and grasped the handle of his backpack. He pulled it towards him and rustled through the confines. It was there somewhere. An iPod. Pulling it out with shaking hands, Midorima placed his ear-buds in and turned on the device, shuffling through music until he found something worth listening to. He stared ahead. The nurse would come eventually, to turn the lights out, but for now it was bright. There was no doubt though, that he would be able to sleep like this.
Green eyes continued staring ahead, even when vision blurred and it seemed like the light flickered for a moment. But the light didn't flicker, he told himself. There wasn't something building itself in the darkness. He didn't glance away still. A sinister smile. Normality. The lights didn't flicker and he closed his eyes. Already, he had cycled through three songs without actually hearing them. He was tired. He needed to sleep.
Weeks passed. It felt like he was in a nuthouse. All he could do was stare ahead, do work and stay ahead. The lights were flickering, not flickering. Nurses asked if he was alright. Doctor's asked if he was sure. Midorima had decided that it was in his best interest to simply get a replacement eye instead of going in for surgery. It was cheaper. It was easier. If it wasn't his real eye he didn't want it. His parent's had reluctantly agreed—that woman putting up a fuss that was larger than any child's tantrum.
He would be released in another day.
Midorima glanced to the side. The lights were off and he was having trouble sleeping, having slept too much during his recovery time as is. The shadow that had built itself up was still here, staring at him. He stared back at it most of the time. It didn't really move, perhaps shifted from side to side every so often but never actually moved towards him, at least not yet. He wouldn't be surprised if it sudden;t grew closer when he closed his eyes. It was smiling at him in an eerie manner he couldn't stand.
Turning his head away after a half and hour, he thought about the next day. He wouldn't be going to school. He was going to see his ocularist to get his eye put in. It was going to be a tiring day and he needed to sleep but, he couldn't get his mind to rest. There was no real worry about the procedure. It was supposed to be relatively painless, just strange. It wasn't everyday someone allows their eye socket to be fiddled with. No. He had no desire to go home. How was he supposed to sleep in that place now that he had been attacked? What if that thing lingered? His parents had assured him that he was safe, that they had installed a safety system and yet...his worries remained. There was a lock on his door now but...
Shaking morbid thoughts away, Midorima closed his eyes and allowed himself to—painfully slow—drift off into sleep.
His ocularist assured Midorima, as he sat before the man, that the process while extensive would be painless. The doctor was a kind man, older in years and experienced in his profession. He owned the medical practice in which he worked. His parents had spared no expenses. His eye, while not able to see, would act and appear like a real eye. He would only have singular vision, which was fine. He had grown used to his impaired vision in the hospital.
His expression was rather mute through the process itself. He didn't so much as grimace when a tiny "plunder" was placed inside of his eye, the doctor feeding plastic like material through the plunger. He was supposed to let it harden and then the doctor would remove it, a process that only took a matter of minutes. He listened to a song for the duration of the time, a frown firmly placed on his lips. It's removed in five minutes and made into a wax impression of the cavity in his eye before being placed back inside of him.
"How does it feel?" The doctor, Nishimura, asked. He's waiting patiently for an answer.
After some time, Midorima speaks up, "There is pressure on the left side..." it's taken out and smoothed before reinserted. The doctor asks again. "Fine...it feels fine." this time he could hardly feel anything to be honest. Numb. He blinks upon request. The wax is taken out, remolded, put back in. He blinks. It's taken out and put back in. Blinks. The ocularist seems satisfied this time. Midorima doesn't pay attention when the man is drilling. He almost doesn't hear him when he is asked to sit elsewhere so the ocularist can paint the "eyeball". He tries his best not to blink so the man can work quickly. It's interesting to see, to watch. Thin little pieces or red fabric are the veins of his eye and when it's all said and done, the finished product is like his actual eye.
The final fitting goes relatively smoothly and when Midorima looks at his reflection, he can't muster enough energy to feel anything. He's seeing that shadow again, the one that followed him from the hospital like he thought it would. It can't move like his normal eye. It's just a cover up for the problem. The doctor says he'll get used to it and when he goes to meet his parents again, his mother bursts into tears and his father has nothing to say.
The ride home is quiet.
When night falls, he lays in bed, door locked and eye staring at the ceiling. He's not expected to go to school tomorrow if he doesn't feel up to it. He doesn't. All of his work is done, save for the last few days. Midorima doesn't care right now. He's exhausted. His mind continuously asks, "Why didn't you die?" it isn't as if he can answer the question. Why doesn't a murder kill the victim?
The shadow beside his bed is laughing.
