A.N.: Okay, so I've gotten a few questions from friends wanting to know what exactly happened to Gokudera in Those Unspoken Words, so I came up with this. I don't know how many parts it's going to be in yet.
-

I remember.
It's been five months.
I'm still in the hospital.
But I remember.
I remember the pain, I remember the fear, I remember the resistance, I remember.
And I'll never forget.
Because things like that don't just happen.
And when they do, they stay with you.
Forever.

Wind whips around me, tussling with my now short hair and my hospital robe. I sit on the balcony overlooking the quiet city in my wheelchair, my left arm bleeding slightly from where I had pulled out my IV. I'm just waiting for the frantic nurses to find me and drag my back into that stuffy room, hook me back up to the damn machine, and tie me to the bed to keep me from leaving again. Of course, it never works. I always manage to get away from them, even if it's only for a short while.

I look out over the city and sigh – it's been two weeks since my last visitor, and I ended up throwing things at him just to get him to leave me alone (damn Lawn Head…). I need to get out of here, I need to get back to Japan, but no, I'm stuck in Italy. Granted, I missed Italy, and I still do, because there's not much you can see from a hospital room window, but my place is in Japan, with my family. I'm sixteen years old, and this is my sixth major trip to a hospital in a little over two years. As much as I hate the damned things, I can't seem to stay out of them.

I roll closer to the railing and rest my forehead against the cool metal with a sigh. It's been nearly a year since I landed in this place, and he hasn't visited once. Not that I don't mind or miss him, for that matter, it's just strange, seeing how everyone else has visited but him. I don't blame him for not showing up, though, even though he was the one that dropped me off here, which saved my life. He was the one that found me there, broken and bleeding –

I pull my head back from the railing and clench my fists to try and stop the flood of memories. I don't want to remember, I don't want to go back to that place; I want to stay here where I'm safe. I slowly relax my muscles as the memories slowly fade to the back of my mind, wincing as I accidentally stretch my stitches crisscrossing my abdomen. I'll have hell to pay from my nurse if I popped one of them… Shouts behind me break my concentration, and I throw a surprised glance over my shoulder. This has to be the fastest they've ever found me after I've broken out…

The head nurse walks over to me as I back away from the balcony railing, my face emotionless. I wait for her to scold me, but surprisingly, she doesn't. Instead she folds her arms and stares at me for a minute. I squirm slightly, uncomfortable under her intense gaze. "You're being relocated."

I freeze and tilt my head, not sure I heard her right. "Relocated? Where to?"

She smiles slightly. "Japan. We've talked with Sawada-san, and he's made all the arrangements for you to go back and finish your recuperation there."

My jaw drops. Jyuudaime wants me back in Japan? I had thought he was keeping me out here to keep me out of the line of fire… The head nurse laughs slightly at my surprise and pushes me back to my stuffy room. For once, I don't try to fight. I'm going home.

When your organs are held together by some thread, air turbulence is not a good thing to experience. Despite the excruciating pain, I stubbornly refuse to take my pain killers. I'm Jyuudaime's right hand – I don't need pain killers.

But it's still a blessing when I pass out.

I feel cold hard steel against my back, rough leather bindings on my wrists and ankles, a blood-soaked cloth cutting off my desperate breaths. At my feet stands a tall man, his face obscured by shadow. "Your friends are here to rescue you, my pet," he muses, his thick, calloused fingers stroking my leg. I resist the urge to try to kick him – I've tried before and paid, dearly. "Let's give them a little surprise, shall we?" My eyes widen in horror as he steps closer, his face still hidden, and brings his fists down on my abdomen. I scream into the cloth, choking on the fraying fabric, and God takes pity on me.

I sit up in my hospital bed, screaming. My nurses all give yells and screams of their own before they come to their senses and force me back down. "Sedative!" God no, not that, please I don't want to go back there, I don't want to remember! I continue to struggle, tears leaking out of my eyes, begging incoherently. My head nurse holds up a hand to stop whoever was about to administer the sedative and places her cool hand on my burning forehead. "Relax, Haya-chan," she murmurs, "it was just a dream. No one is going to hurt you, okay?"

I stop fighting, and struggle to steady my breathing and bit my lip. She doesn't know, she couldn't possibly understand what I've been through… I nod shakily and she waves away the other nurses, leaving us alone. She sits down in the chair next to my bed. "We'll be in Japan soon," she says, and I know she's trying to distract me from thinking about my dream.

I wipe away the tears and give her a shaky smile. "Thank you," I whisper. Even though I've been a difficult patient (and I always will be), she's always been kind to me, and looked after me, like – mom. My throat squeezes shut and I close my eyes, fighting back more tears. I haven't thought about her in years, why am I suddenly thinking of her now? I feel her hand on my shoulder and compose myself before I open my eyes.

"Are you in pain?" She looks genuinely concerned for me. I shake my head, and stare over my head.

"I… I just need a moment." I swallow, and she stands and leaves me alone with my own thoughts. It's been five, almost six months since I finally let myself look back on the days I was captive, and even now, after I've pretty much come to terms with it, I still can't bear remembering it. I turn my head and look out the window, watching the clouds float by, and drift off into a dreamless sleep.

A whole year and he never visited, despite his promise to me that he would be there when I woke up. A whole year and he thinks he can just show up and expect me to forgive him? Yea – no. Not happening. I refuse to even acknowledge his presence as the other guardians (even Hibari) gather into my new (and surprisingly enough, stuffy) hospital room. I actually smile, warmed by their support, and glad to be back with my family. And even though I try to look away from him, my eyes are drawn to him as he stands in the corner of the room, watching silently.

Eventually my family leaves, but he stays. He just stands there in the corner, and I stare at him, hoping I look a little defiant. I shift and wince as I stretch my stitches, and it's then he finally approaches me. "How are you, Haya-chan?"

I glare at him, my face hot. "You didn't visit for a whole year. You left me, alone, in Italy, for a whole year. What the fuck, Takeshi?!" I'm more pissed off than I thought, and I feel a small bit of satisfaction when he flinches, but it soon disappears amidst the wash of guilt.

He doesn't meet my eyes. "I…" He pauses and scratches the back of his neck like he always does when he's nervous. "Tsuna didn't let me visit, even though he knew you were going to be mad at me for it, because he knew you would be madder if I left him unprotected to take care of you."

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Jyuudaime… "I…I didn't know," I mumble pathetically, looking down.

He smiles his easy-going smile and finally sits in the chair next to me. "I don't blame you for being mad, Haya-chan. I was mad at first too, but with everything that has happened in the past year, I respect Tsuna for his decision in keeping me here." He reaches out for my hand, but then hesitates for a moment before he takes it. "I really missed you," he says, blushing a little.

I roll my eyes, but smile. "I missed you too, yakyu baka."