AN: Tonight we're doing Fluffy Saturday, coz Mishmash needs some looooove~~
Btw, this is Hazama x Mishima from Phansite PMs. No flaming plz ;_;
Mishima leaned against a rough brick wall. His entire body heaved with the effort it took not to fold in on itself from the pain. His lungs burned with the need for air, but Mishima doubted he'd ever suck in enough of the precious oxygen to satisfy their needs.
The Phansite creator caught a glimpse of his hands from his vantage point. They were shaking uncontrollably. To be fair, Mishima would be surprised if his whole body wasn't shaking. The air was chilled to near sub-temperatures, and the air was thick with humidity. All he wore was a thin turtleneck and loose jeans; hardly enough to battle the cold. Mishima's bare feet were near-blue, while his bare neck and hands glowed red with cold.
His knees shook for only a moment longer, before giving in to the temptation of rest. He'd run through Tokyo for 20 minutes, lost in half that time through the alley ways and dim street lights of his neighbourhood. He couldn't go back. Not back there. Not to them.
It was nights like these when Mishima wondered why he came back to start with.
Red angry welts lined the apples of his cheeks, deep purple bruises marred his normally moon-white arms and chest. The swelling hand-prints along his neck made Mishima want to curl up into the deepest darkest corner of Shinjuku and wait for some Yakuza to put him out of his misery. Despite all the joy and light the Phantom Thieves had brought him (from the idea of creating the Phansite, to meeting complete strangers who welcomed him into their lives so willingly…), Mishima could only see the darkness. All he could see as he limply braced himself against jagged brick was the fuzzy outline of this random alleyway in Tokyo that he'd never have the strength to leave. Threatening shadows moved ahead of him, but all Mishima chose to focus on was the grime and dirt seeping into his bare skin and the cold and despairingly menacing gloom overtake his consciousness.
Mishima wished the Phantom Thieves had destroyed his heart.
All this pain, the routine of being scared to wake up to being scared of falling asleep; it was exhausting. Even breathing was exhausting. This winter chill bit at his heels and toes in painful stabs, and Mishima couldn't even feel his fingers anymore. He didn't even notice his eyelids flutter shut, not until something soft and warm brushed passed his battered face.
Mishima struggled to open his eyes for a moment, before realising it was futile. Everything was pointless. What was the point in fighting it anyways…?
Mishima's thoughts pattered off, even as the warmth insisted and attempted to rouse him from his waning consciousness. He let the warmth surround him carefully, but did not respond. Not even when a familiar voice spoke his name. Called it, even.
All he felt as he succumbed to the darkness was the creeping chill that seemed to encase his soul…
Hazama couldn't control his heartrate. It beat a million miles a minute as he dashed into the Yongen Clinic, his dying boyfriend laying limply in his delicate embrace. The green-haired fellow could barely get the words out as Tae brought him into the medical room, instead opting to lay Mishima down onto the medical bed with a careful grace that was uncommon from the usually awkward male.
Hazama was pushed to the side to make room for Tae, who took no time in freeing Mishima of his thin shirt and pants. Hazama had to force down the bile that had risen at the sight of his boyfriend's uncovered body.
It wasn't that Hazama had never seen Mishima without a shirt before (or without pants, if you know what I'm saying ;D), but in this moment, the smooth pale skin he'd so enjoyed claiming behind private doors was utterly devastated by various abrasions and violently placed bruises. In some areas, the bruising was so dark, and cuts littered too close together, that Hazama was terrified Mishima would die even on the medical bed.
Tae tutted, her furrowed brows the only sign of her shock. She took inventory with her eyes, noting all the wounds that would need stitches, and planned on bringing her largest tub of bruise cream. She decided whilst turning to her equipment-filled cabinet that she'd also use an x-ray scanner to find any possible internal damage.
While Tae kept her head calm and collected, Hazama backed up until his back hit the door to the clinic's lobby. His mind whirred at the all the events that had occurred that evening, starting with the low-key date he and Mishima had enacted at Leblanc earlier that evening, following through to when Hazama had dropped Mishima at the teen's home. A few hours of walking around aimlessly later, and he'd stumbled upon his boyfriend sprawled against an alley wall in sub-level temperatures in barely enough clothing to be suitable for autumn, let alone winter.
At the time, Hazama hadn't been able to make out the welts and bruising coating his boyfriend like a blanket. All he'd been focusing on was the barely-there pulse and non-existent breathing, praying with all his might that Mishima would open his eyes.
Hazama didn't think Christmas would end like this, not when everything had pointed to such a happy evening just a few hours ago. Seeing Mishima barely breathing; seeing him barely fighting for life…
Hazama's body shook with worry.
Tae's hand on his shoulder shocked Hazama out of his reverie.
"You wait outside, Hazman."
At Hazama's expression of rebuttal, Tae's analytical eyes softened.
"He's in good hands."
Hazama drooped his shoulders and let his head fall forward in defeat. He gave a glum nod before leaving the medical room. When in the clinics lobby, Hazama chose the seat right next to the medic room door.
What seemed like hours of waiting soon begun to weigh down on the green haired man, causing his eyelids to unwillingly droop shut. Hazama's breathing begun to even out, even at his denial, and tense muscles slowly relaxed. It'd been a long night, and Hazama was beginning to feel the effects of his near anxiety attack when he'd found Mishima.
Just as he was about to fully relax into sleep's embrace, a hand Hazama instantly knew to be Tae's landed on his shoulder for a second time that night. Or was it morning?
"Hey. I managed to stabilize your boyfriend."
Tae's blunt way of speech brought the most relief Hazama had ever felt in his life. Tears nearly stung his eyes, but the doctor's next words brought him back to reality.
"He won't be awake for a while, but I'll let you stay with him until he does."
Hazama nodded numbly, standing and following the woman who'd saved his lover's life into the room that held the precious boy.
The amount of bandages did nothing to abate Hazama's anxiety, but seeing a strong steady pulse blimp from the heartrate machine almost made him weak to the knees. Mishima was fine now. Everything was going to be alright.
Tae patted the green haired male on the back before leaving the room to give them some privacy. Hazama was so very grateful. That woman was a Heaven Sent.
Hazama sighed out loud as he took hold of a stool nearby and sat near Mishima's prone form. He rest a hand on his boyfriend's face, staring at the sleeping face he'd worried would never wake up. Mishima was his everything, and Hazama was so relieved Tae had kept her clinic open so late, even on Christmas.
"I love you…" Hazama barely managed to choke out as his shaky hand cupped Mishima's face. A lone tear freed itself from the green-haired male's eyes, and he almost didn't hold back the rest of the current that would've followed suit. Instead, Hazama laid his head down next to Mishima's and held one of his boyfriend's hands tightly in his own.
This time, Hazama would not lose the love of his life.
AN: HEHE! DID I SAY "FLUFFY"? I MEANT ANGST LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE! XD