(I've been working on Accidentally in Love again, and am at a point where I don't know what to do with it - i scrapped the notebook idea, because i've lost the notebook, for good this time I think. It's becoming very dialogue heavy, because I love dialogue, and I was like, 'that's getting boring,' and decided to take a break from it. Don't ask where this idea came from; I'm bored SHITLESS right now. Anywho, there's no beta-ing or anything going into this; [not that there usually is XD because I'm typing it straight into the text box of AFF's upload section :3)
He stared up at the hospital through his wet hair, watching the rain drops slide down in front of his eyes. The dye hadn't completely settled yet, and the water was tinted faintly bluish.
He coughed violently, and then pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He stepped under the awning to light it, waiting for his agent to hurry up and get out of the car.
"Mamoru-sama, you really shouldn't smoke," she said, holding an umbrella up above her head. He blew smoke in her face, not caring while she coughed.
"Stop me," he said childishly. "I don't see why we're here anyway. It's not like they're going to do anything for me."
"Mamoru-sama!" The petite foreign woman stamped her foot, taking the tone with him that let him know he wasn't being appreciated. Mamoru sighed, dropping the rest of the cigarette and pushing the tip out with the toe of his boot.
"Well, let's go inside and let them tell me how long." He didn't bother waiting for her, and she lagged behind to fold the umbrella up anyway.
The nurse at the desk looked up and recognized him instantly despite the change in hair colour. She paled. "Good afternoon, Takatori-sama," she said politely. "Please follow Nina." She pointed to a timid looking woman standing mousishly by the wall.
"Please follow me, Takatori-sama," she whispered, bowing, and Mamoru wished he'd finished his cigarette. He had a feeling he'd be needing the nicotine now. The twitchy nurse led him to a room and left him for only a few moments, before returning with a clipboard, to do things like take his blood pressure. His agent, an attractive woman in her mid-thirties by the name of Takaoka Kyoko, stayed in the hallway.
"The doctor will be with you shortly," Mousy-Nurse said, and Mamoru flicked her a disinterested glance. She scurried out of the room, presumably to go gossip with her friends.
To his surprise, her gossiping friends apparently included the doctor, as he showed up not even five minutes later. "If only my service had been this good five years ago, I might have kept coming," Mamoru said waspishly, eyeing the name badge hooked to the long white coat. "White really isn't your colour," he added, glaring balefully.
The badge proudly proclaimed the man before him to be none other than Naoe Nagi, MD. "I'm glad you think so, Takatori-san," Naoe said calmly. His tone was inflectionless, and Mamoru had no idea what he thought about this meeting.
"Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?"
"Aren't you a little young to be dying?" Came the rejoinder, and Mamoru's heart clenched in his chest. "Symptoms?"
"Tell me, is it easier to kill people this way?" His rude tone earned him a disapproving glare; he didn't care, let them disapprove. It didn't matter in the end anyway.
"I haven't killed anyone in nearly ten years. Symptoms?" Mamoru leaned back on his hands, ignoring the painful jab from his wrist up his arm.
"Which ones?" He asked, determined to make this difficult. Naoe was utterly unflappable.
"The ones that sent your agent crawling to my doorstep last night, begging me to save your life," he said dryly. Mamoru flashed him a grin.
"I'm surprised she came begging for my life; after the shock I gave her I would have thought she'd have gone for herself and the heart attack I nearly gave her."
"Symptoms?" Naoe asked again, and Mamoru detected a hint of irritation under the calm facade. "Just because people pay you money to act in movies it doesn't give you the right to come in here and harrass me," he added.
"Good. Let me go and die in peace then. Or if you're feeling really good about yourself, give me something to make it faster."
Naoe glared at him. "You spoiled, pretentious, shit-talking brat. Do you think I'm about to help you commit suicide? No. Symptoms!"
"Heart pain. I mean, chest pain. Whatever. Can't use my arms very well. Headaches all the time. Cough. Stuff in my lungs. Can't sleep. Kyoko tells me that my personality's gone down the drain, too."
"You? Personality? Can't imagine how you've been lying to these people all this time." Naoe's tone was sharp, and Mamoru couldn't help the bark of laughter that followed it. This immediately set off his cough, and he clutched at his shirt as he gasped for breath around the hacking spasm.
Naoe instantly returned to his doctor role again, and put the stethoscope into his ears and pressed it to Mamoru's back, listening to him wheeze. "Hear anyth-- anything you like?" Mamoru gasped, scowling. Naoe made some notes in the clipboard.
"I'm going to need to take a blood sample in order to confirm or deny," he said. "But I'm not going to lie to you. You're dying."
"News flash, doc, I've known that for months. What's your patient mortality rate?"
Naoe paused by the door, and looked back at him. "Zero," he said at last. "I'm sending Nina back in here. Try not to frighten her." And he was gone again.
"Hah. Imagine that. Schwarz. After all this time." He looked up at the no-smoking sign, and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "Huh."
(TBC)