Comatose

By: Megori

Disclaimer: Junjou Romantica (Egoist) and Sekai Ichi Hatsukoi both belong respectfully to Shungiku Nakamura and Kadokawa. The work you see here is merely a piece of fan fiction in appreciation to the awesome series.

A/N: Back again with my annual story. Haha. Just kidding. Finally found some inspiration to get myself started on another story. Unlike most that I write, this will be a chaptered story (shocking, if I say so myself) as well as a crossover between the Junjou Romantica and Sekai Ichi Hatsukoi mangas (which are both set in the same universe anyway). This is a story I've been hacking out in my brain for a while but haven't found time to scribble down, so I apologize beforehand if it's a bit messy (and OOC). Hope you enjoy and please, concrit of any kind is highly appreciated. I haven't really been keeping up with either manga series either, so if I get anything wrong, let me know (I'll consider changing it).

Rating: PG
Characters: Kusama Nowaki, Kamijou Hiroki, Onodera Ritsu, Takano Masamune
Genre: Drama, Romance

Chapter 1: Prelude to Tomorrow

"I'm really sorry, Hiro-san," the tall black haired man pleaded as he stumbled onto the bus he'd nearly missed. He gave the bus driver a thankful smile, slipped in his fare and flopped onto an empty chair, breathing slightly heavy from his run to the bus stop earlier.

On the other end, his lover fumed, although mostly just for show. His lover, Kamijou Nowaki, was, according to him, the most adorably understanding person in the entire world. Nowaki smiled despite himself as Hiroki rattled off his usual spiel when emergencies came up at work. He was loved, deeply loved, and Nowaki loved it, lived for it and flourished because of it.

"I'm coming home right now," Nowaki replied, returning his attention to his phone conversation. "Surgery went well and she'll be recovering quickly. I'm just glad it wasn't as complicated as it could have been. I really wanted to see you tonight."

Even without seeing it, Nowaki could feel the flush rising across his lover's cheeks. A smile slipped across his face as his lover stammered into the phone, ending his line with, "S-stupid! Just hurry up and get home."

"I will," Nowaki replied, his mirth showing full in his gray eyes. "I love you, Hiro-san."

Silence.

"I'll see you in a little bit then, when I get home," Nowaki added, knowing full well his lover was blushing to the tips of his ears by now. "Bye."

"B-bye," came the stammered reply from over the phone.

The bus came to a rolling stop as it approached another stop. A few people shuffled off the bus and a few trickled in. Without meaning to, Nowaki's gray eyes met brown eyes. Although a complete stranger, Nowaki nodded with a light smile at the man to signify his acknowledgment of their eye contact. The stranger, another tall, black haired man with dark bags under his eyes, slightly hidden by his dark rimmed glasses, nodded once and plopped onto a seat near Nowaki, his own cellphone held between cheek and shoulder as his hands held a stack of papers and a yellow envelope.

"Don't you dare try to skip out on our appointment tonight, Onodera," the man stated sternly to whomever he was talking to on the other line. He let out an exasperated sigh following a reply from the other end. "If you're not there by the time I'm home, I'll have you whimpering beneath me, begging and crying for mercy." A smile flitted across his face. "Though, I suppose that may be what you're hoping to happen."

"Takano-san!" came a sharp, loud cry from the other end of his phone.

Nowaki, now knowing the other man, currently known to him as Takano, was talking with another man. A blush crept across his face at the information he really didn't mean to hear, but obviously did. When he tried to avert his gaze, once again, he made eye contact with the other man. He smiled sheepishly before quickly looking away and letting his hand fall onto the massive bouquet of flowers resting on his knees.

When the man, Takano, had put his phone away and started paging slowly through the pile of papers in his hands again, Nowaki curiously risked a peek, completely forgetting it was rude to do so.

"Ah, is that manga?" Nowaki asked with rising interest, eyes focused on the doodles across the panels on the page.

The other man looked up, eying him momentarily before replying, "Mm, yeah, but just the storyboard of one."

"Oh!" Nowaki's eyes lit up. "May I ask which one?" Then, remembering that this was a total stranger, he coughed, straightened and held out his hand. "I apologize. I completely forgot myself. I'm Kusama Nowaki, a pediatrician." He smiled.

The other man slid his hand into Nowaki's and shook it briefly. "Takano Masamune, Editor-in-Chief of Marukawa's Emerald Department."

"The shoujo manga department?" Nowaki asked. When he saw Masamune eying him curiously, he continued, "A few of my patients love reading them, so from time to time, I try to keep up with a title or two myself." He smiled.

Their light conversation carried on a bit longer as Nowaki blathered on about the titles he had read and enjoyed from Emerald with a few interjections from Masamune, elaborating on a few specifics and nodding his head in both agreement and thanks. Before long, the two exchanged business cards and mutual acknowledgment of acquiring a new acquaintance.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, as well as the other passengers of the bus, the traffic perpendicular to theirs at the intersection just ahead harbored a small semi-truck that swerved side to side with increasing speed. The driver of the truck had slipped into a quiet slumber, completely forgetting he was behind the wheel after a long, hard day.

Just as the truck impacted into the side of the bus, Nowaki's laughter echoed briefly through the bus, which was swift drowned out by the sound of crushing metal and metal scraping against metal. Glass shards flew toward the two unsuspecting men as the impact threw them out of their seats. Paper and flowers flew about, scrambling in the ongoing impact as the two of them lost their hold on them. Before either one could fully register what was happening, they both landed in a heap of glass, metal and concrete. The bus had tipped onto its side from the impact.

Gray eyes darted about briefly, trying to take in whatever it could. Silence. He couldn't hear a single thing, although he knew he should be able to hear so much. Giving that up, he went for smell. Gasoline. Blood. A faint scent of flowers wafted up to his nostrils as well. Ah, they were his flowers. His for Hiroki. For their anniversary. Tonight. He tried to smile, then tasted the metallic taste of blood. His head whirled as he shot his tired eyes open once more. Just a little bit away from him, a body lay limp. Whose body, he didn't know. Perhaps he knew, but he couldn't recall. It hurt too much to try. As much as he tried to keep focus, everything hurt too much. His will dwindled and his eyes fluttered close.

In the distance, whether it was in his head or not, he wasn't sure. But he heard someone. "Hurry home, Nowaki." A faint smile played across his lips at the familiar line.

Whoever it was though, he couldn't recall. Though he wanted to remember who had said it and why it sounded so familiar to him, his mind faded into the darkness, succumbing to the pain he felt all over his body.

#####

Kamijou Hiroki wasn't usually a very patient man, but when it came to Nowaki, he'd try his damnedest. However, it had been nearing half an hour since his conversation with the man. He had tried to call him a few times to see where his lover was, but all calls ended up nowhere, adding fuel to the sparking fire. Shortly after plopping himself into a chair at the dinner table, he flung himself out. The bastard was going to pay if he didn't have a good reason for being so late.

To commemorate their special day, Hiroki had ended his work day earlier than usual, flew home and began preparing dinner. He was no five-star chef, but when he put his mind to it, he was sure he'd managed to cook like one, at least tonight anyway. The only thing missing from making tonight one of the best, though he'd never say it aloud, was his lover.

Surely, had work called him in again, he would have phoned to let Hiroki know of the change in plan. Exasperated, he threw his arms into the air, grabbed his cellphone and began pacing the length of their living room. After a deep breath, he paused and redialed the number he knew by heart, well, the number he cared most about anyway.

"I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is-"

Hiroki flipped his phone off, sighed heavily and flopped onto the couch. "Where the heck are you, you idiot?"

Deciding it best to resign for the moment, he took hold of the remote and turned the television on. The news. It was about the only thing Hiroki watched on a somewhat daily basis, mostly for the sake of weather and traffic. As the news anchor rambled on about an accident that occurred just a bit ago, Hiroki's heart began to race. He must be crazy. There was no reason for him to fret over something like this.

"The only good to this tragic accident is that it happened later in the evening, when less people were on the bus. So far, the death count of this horrid accident has already reached five, including the driver of the truck," the anchorwoman rattled on. "The four passengers of the bus died instantaneously, having flown out of the windows of the bus upon impact. Seven others remain severely-"

As the woman continued her prattle, Hiroki felt his world crumble beneath him. Behind her, two members of the rescue team and a medic rushed a stretcher from the tipped bus toward an ambulance. Everything else faded away as Hiroki focused on the man in the stretcher. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

#####

Onodera Ritsu turned the lapels of his coat up, shielding his neck from the cold as he rubbed his ungloved hands together. It was seriously starting to annoy him, having to wait out in the cold like this. He didn't even want to be here to begin with, or so he continuously told himself. He chided himself for even doubting what he considered fact. As he paced in front of his neighbor's door, he glanced at his watch again. Thirty minutes. Well, it was nearly forty-five now, but he figured he'd give the man, his lover perhaps, he hadn't quite decided yet, a bit of leeway since he was picking up a manuscript. Their deadline was fast approaching, after all. He'd wait until it actually hit forty-five minutes before giving the man a call to see how much later he'd be.

He stopped pacing at that thought and scolded himself. "Forget it!" He threw his hands up in the air in annoyance, mostly at himself, although he'd just pretend it was at his neighbor, his boss, maybe lover. "He's the one who said not to be late and yet he doesn't even call to say he'll be late." He puffed angrily. "Che, he knows where I live anyway, so if he has an issue with me not waiting for him, he knows where to go."

With that, he stomped toward his door, extracted his key and marched inside his apartment. Takano Masamune was generally a man of his word, so the lack of contact did worry Ritsu a bit, not that he'd admit it. He threw his coat onto a nearby chair and stumbled into his kitchen, in search of dinner, although now it would be more like late supper. With a sigh, he returned to the living room with an apple, the very same one Kisa had thrown to him the day before, teasing him that he ought to eat healthier rather than living off energy drinks.

Just as he settled into his couch, his phone began to ring. Startled, Ritsu leapt from his position on the couch and threw his phone open before realizing he didn't look at the caller id.

"YOU! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

Instantly, Ritsu yanked the phone from his ear. He didn't even need to look at the caller id anymore to realize who it was that had called. And while he no longer felt too much animosity from this man, the fact remained that it was still awkward.

"Y-Yokozawa-san?" Ritsu began cautiously. He never did quite know how to hold a conversation with this man, and knowing he called, Ritsu was at a complete loss. "Why are you-?"

Unfortunately, Ritsu was cut short when Yokozawa Takafumi cut him off. "Get your ass to the hospital, NOW!"

"Wha-?" For all Ritsu knew, this man was supposed to be a few prefectures away, on a business trip. The sudden call and demand didn't sit well with him.

"Isaka-san just called me," he continued, cutting Ritsu off once more. His breathing sounded labored, as if he had been running. "I'll be there as soon as I can, but there's no one else I can call to go except you."

"What are you talking about?" Ritsu was completely clueless. What did it matter to him whether or not Isaka, their boss, had called the guy?

"You mean you don't-?!" Takafumi sighed loudly. "Have you seen the news yet?"

"No?"

"Turn it on."

Reluctantly, Ritsu did as told. News reports of a recent accident blared to life on the television he rarely used. "Okay?"

"Masamune was on that bus."

The phone slipped from Ritsu's hand as the news hit him. With a crack, the phone hit the ground and the battery flew out. His feet jellied beneath him, making him crumble back into his couch as his eyes remained glued to the text scrolling on the bottom of the screen, declaring, "Five dead after tragic accident. Seven severely injured." His head spun and he had to close his eyes to keep from vomiting. It had to be a lie. That cocky bastard had just been on the phone with him forty-five minutes ago, demanding he go over to his apartment. It just had to be a lie.

End of Chapter 1

This concluded the first chapter, which was a bit shorter than I had anticipated. Originally, I was going to include the name of the hospital (the hospital Nowaki works for), but I can't remember it offhand and I'm not particularly in a position to look it up right this moment. I was also going to have Nowaki mention a specific title from Emerald, but again memory failed me. Sorry for the dark atmosphere of this chapter. All I can say is, I think it gets better from here? Lol. Hope you guys enjoyed.