Notes: This story is set some time after Waver. This is completely written and just requires some editing. Enjoy!

Wins and Losses

"Fish balls, glass noodles, mushrooms—"

"Golden rod mushrooms!" Daisuke corrects him with a shout, and Takeru rolls his eyes.

"Okay, okay. Golden rod mushrooms," he parrots back patiently, cellphone held to his ear as he walks around a pair of lost tourists. "Anything else?" His question is met with a negative and he breathes out a sigh of relief. "Okay," he says, stopping at the sidewalk curb and waiting patiently for the Don't Walk signal to change. "I'll see you tonight."

"Later! Love you!"

His stomach flutters warmly at the words. He's still not used to hearing them. No matter how often Ken and Daisuke are making it a point to say it to him every day. He ducks his head and mumbles back a 'love you, too.'

"What? What was that? I can't hear you," Daisuke teases him, voice obnoxiously loud, and Takeru huffs.

"I love you too," he articulates each word in a semi-irritated manner, but it fools no one—especially his boyfriend who he's sure has a smug look plastered on his face.

"Cool," Daisuke says before he hangs up. Takeru stares at his phone and just shakes his head. He pockets his phone, sees that he has the Walk signal, and takes a step off the curb.

It happens incredibly fast.

One moment he's walking across the street—within the crosswalk thank you very much—and the next, he's being swept off his feet.

The world tilts.

He thinks he hears the crunch of glass, but everything's spinning and spinning, and his head cracks on the unforgiving ground and he's out.

He's not sure how much time has passed when he blinks his eyes open to the blue sky above, but there certainly are a lot more people around him now than before. He sees a girl crying hysterically into her phone, which only intensifies when her eyes rise unintentionally to meet his. He's confused and he blinks. Once. Twice, and then a hand is waving in front of his eyes and draws his attention away. His eyes roam from the hand and up the arm of an older man who is kneeling beside him. The man's mouth is moving, but he can't make out what the other is saying. His ears feel like they're stuffed with cotton; his head aches; and his leg really, really /hurts/. He angles his head up to see why, but the man holds him still, grimly shaking his head and mouths "don't." It scares him. Enough that his chest begins to heave as his breath hastens.

He wants to know what's going on.

And like a pin popping a balloon, he can suddenly hear everything: the chatter from the people milling about; cars honking; engines idling; sirens in the distance. It's a little overwhelming to say the least.

"Hey, hey, hey." A voice breaks into his panic, and he focuses back to the man hovering above him; his face is etched with concern. "It's going to be all right. Take a deep breath, son. Come on."

He doesn't know who this man is, but he finds himself doing as he's told. He inhales one shuddering breath after another, taking in the details of this stranger as he does so to distract himself from what is going on around him.

There are wrinkles around the corners of the man's brown eyes and dark shadows beneath them that speak of long nights at the office. His tie is partially undone and his linen shirt is wrinkled, but despite his somewhat untidy appearance, his hands are steady. His voice is calm. It reminds him so much of his dad that a familiar ache blooms in his chest.

Something must change in his expression because the man's forehead immediately crinkles in worry. "Hey, what's this now? You're going to be okay," he says. "What's your name?"

His breath hitches as he responds. "T-Takeru."

"Takeru, you're going to be okay," he repeats. "The ambulance is on its way."

"My leg really hurts," he confesses, and the man grimaces.

"It's likely broken, Takeru."

"Broken?" he breathes out in disbelief. "Is. Is it bad? I have a paper due this week and class and work." His words spill out in a rush as panic builds once more. He tries to push himself upright and in the process finally gets to /see/, and he really wishes he didn't because his bones are supposed to be inside his body—not out—and he swallows convulsively around bile that threatens to make an appearance.

"Stop! Takeru, you mustn't move so much. You've hit your head as well." He lets himself be manhandled back onto the bundle of cloth he is apparently resting his head on and tries his best not to throw up.

"Everything will be fine," the man assures him, but unbidden thoughts of his responsibilities race across his mind to contradict the platitude. Like how he's on scholarship and has to maintain his grades or else he'll be kicked out; and how he can possibly handle a hospital bill on top of all his other expenses that he is barely managing now. Takeru wishes he can just start the day over where he decides not to go grocery shopping.

"Takeru, is there someone we can call? Your Mom? Your Dad?"

The question although well intentioned is anything but, and Takeru feels hollowed out as he shakes his head in negative. His parents haven't spoken to him in over a year. He doesn't think he could take it if they decided not to come once they've heard what's happened to him. "Daisuke," he decides after a moment. Daisuke will be able to handle the news. He'll make sure that Ken will be okay too. "Call Daisuke. Please."

The man nods as he fumbles for his phone. "All right. Tell me his number." He does, but isn't too optimistic that his boyfriend will pick up considering he was walking into class just as he hung up on him. His hunch is validated when he sees the man shake his head at him before starting to leave a voice mail. Takeru waves his hand to get the man's attention and the other holds the phone by his ear.

"Hey," Takeru says and follows up immediately with, "I'm okay. Well, my leg is definitely broken, but um, that's all. I think." There's a rush of footsteps and he's surrounded by men in the same red-colored uniforms. "Oh. Paramedics are here. I'll see you at the hospital?" He's not sure why his sentence ends in a question, but before he can say anything, the phone is being pulled away from him. It's just as well. He's feeling dizzy and nauseous, and once more wishes he could start the day all over again.

oOo

Neither Daisuke nor Ken make it to the hospital in time before he's taken into surgery. They are, however, the first faces he sees as he wakes up in the recovery room.

Ken looks completely drawn out, and Daisuke doesn't look much better. The latter has his arm wrapped securely around Ken's shoulder, while Ken holds Takeru's hand.

"Hi," he croaks out and then, "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Daisuke asks incredulously. "If anyone should be sorry, it's that girl who ran that red light!"

Takeru blinks groggily, takes in Ken's silence and how Daisuke is literally vibrating in place.

"I'm okay," he directs this to Ken because he knows what the other must be thinking, and he needs to assure him that he's okay. Ken merely squeezes his hand in response.

"How are you feeling?" Daisuke asks, glancing worriedly at his right leg and then to his head. Takeru only becomes aware of some sort of band around his head when his partner mentions it, but other than that, he doesn't really feel much. He relays this information, and Daisuke cracks a smile, albeit a strained one.

"They have you on the good stuff," Daisuke informs him, and Takeru's lips twitch in good humor. He's tired though, can feel sleep tugging at his consciousness, but he needs to get that haunted look off of Ken's face.

"I'm okay, Ken," he reassures the other again and turns his hand so he can curl his fingers around the other's. "I'm okay."

Ken bites his lower lip, blinks rapidly, but finally nods.

"I'm okay," Takeru mumbles once more finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open any longer. "I'm okay."

He feels a hand cup the top of his head and a faint pressure against his temple.

"You're okay," he hears Ken say and falls asleep.