A/N: That might be a record for updating stories. Normally it's three months or something…Anyway, thanks for all those that read, reviewed, faved, and placed this on your alert. I hope I don't disappoint you with this chapter.

Chapter 2: Monster

"Cheer up, Nice." Blue eyes shifted from the surface of the table up to the café owner, though he could not bring himself to do more. His chin remained resting upon his folded arms while his features remained reserved.

Hajime, as her best effort, pushed her plate of curry to Nice and extended her hand with her fork. After all, before hamatora expanded to what it was today, it used to be just the two of them eating large bowls of curry and solving cases together.

"Eat." She softly commanded, though Nice did not budge, even at the small poking of the fork against his arm.

"I'm not hungry, Hajime…sorry." Nice turned away from her while her own features fell to what seemed to be Nice's infectious disease of inundating gloom.

It had only been a few days since the small incident at the hospital. Since then, only Ratio and Three have went to see Art. Ratio had easily snuck in being a doctor himself, though when he returned, he had reported that Art seemed reluctant to see him even for the few minutes that he did. Three had gone yesterday, dropping off a manga for Art to read while he was awake. He imagined it would give something for Art to do, and maybe help him find some comfort in the words like he had, though even he sensed the uneasiness in Art's eyes as well.

"Why don't you go see him, Nice?" Koneko suggested, trying just like everyone else to lift the other's spirits up.

Nice shook his head in disagreement. Art didn't want to see him. Those violet eyes pierced through him when he had verbally ushered him out of the room. There was no twisting his words; the message was clear. Art did not want him there, and so Nice would respect that decision even if the mystery behind the request kept Nice moping around the bar.

"No?" Koneko questioned, "Hm, then what about a case?" she dangled the document in front of Nice's face, "Some fresh air could do you some good, don't you agree, Murasaki?"

Said man averted his eyes from his book before nodding in agreement. He made note of what page he was on before shutting it and tucking it underneath his arm.

"Let's go, Nice." He pulled the other off the stool by the hood of the other's sweatshirt, "We still have jobs to do."

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Violet eyes surveyed the open palm of his pale hands, turning them over a few times. There was no difference. No difference in appearance or feeling…then why did he feel as though there was? There was something not right. There was something he could only define as sinful, wrong, evil. His hands that he once believed were made to help people were now only weapons of destruction. He could not trust them nor the rest of his body. Who knew what he was now capable of?

He shook his head, trying to dispel such thoughts only to his raise his hand to sooth the sudden pain he had inflicted upon himself.

'Pain…is that all I will ever feel?' A crooked smile crept upon the superintendent's features. 'It's what I deserve, isn't it?' It's all he ever deserved starting from the loss of his brother. He had failed him. Where he was now and what he had let Moral do to him was evidence enough. Now this was his payment; his divine punishment.

An unsoundly laugh rippled through him, bubbling inside his chest before he could not restrain it anymore. He laughed. He laughed at his fortune, his life, and at his naïve dreams he once held. How could he have thought he could ever protect his friends? He once believed a minimum could, though he should have known that he couldn't for even his own minimum couldn't. His own minimum was broken, nonexistent, and now that he had one…

'Isn't this what I always wanted?' "Well isn't it?" He nearly yelled at himself, causing the maniacal laughter to slowly die for all that escaped him where choked sobs. "No…" his estranged hands came up to cover his eyes as if it they could seal away the tears, the ache that throbbed against his ribcage.

'No this is not what I wanted.' "I'm a monster…" He told himself, 'And what good could a monster be?'

It was sometime before the tears dried up, though his eyes were slightly swollen as the redness was still visible against his deathly pale skin. They still stung of salt, but there was nothing to do for that. Instead he tried to focus on the manga Three had thoughtfully given him, and because it was the only reading material he had at the moment.

Gasquet had outright refused to let Art near any type of police work and Art was thankful yet annoyed by the action. However, he understood Gasquet was looking out for him. Almost like a father or an uncle would do and since Art had neither he appreciated Gasquet…though not at the very moment.

Art would admit that the cover of the manga didn't intrigue him at first, though it did cause some color to reach his cheeks when it was evident that the manga was shounen-ai. It wasn't that Art was turn off by such things, it's just…he never did read such books. He didn't even touch those magazines he knew some of his peers hid under their beds.

Nonetheless, Art had nothing else to do and so he began to read through the manga. He was halfway through when there was a knock on his door and he swiftly stashed the manga away, taking note of what page he was one when the door opened.

A blond brow rose questioningly when he saw Art hide something away, though it did not stop him entering and placing the tray of hospital food upon the side table. "Amusing yourself?"

"No, I was just…" violet eyes averted from the stranger, thinking him only as another nurse coming to check in on him.

"Don't look so guilty, Art. Geez." Art swiftly looked back up when the spiky blonde hair was revealed by the removal of his cap and a broad sanguine smile.

"Oh, Birthday, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were coming."

"Yeah, well I had to get the scrubs from this very obliging nurse before I could sneak in here, but what's up?" The man plopped down in the chair beside the bed. He had noticed Art's slightly red rimmed eyes which for some reason sparked a bit of annoyance.

Art didn't know how to quite respond to Birthday's short tale of how he had snuck in here, nor did he really know how to respond to the question other than, "I'm fine, thank you. How are the others?"

"Fine." Birthday replied a bit stiffly thinking that Art wouldn't have to ask how the others were doing if he hadn't push them away. He folded his arms across his chest while he tilted his head as if wondering if he had changed the angle at which he saw Art then maybe he could catch a glimpse of the man he knew and not this stranger before him.

They had lapsed in an uneasy silence, Art shifting slightly under Birthday's scrutinizing gaze. "Is there something the matter?" Art finally managed the courage to ask.

"I don't know, is there?" irritation was evident in Birthday's tone which startled Art at first, but he held his ground against, Birthday.

"I think you should go." Art averted his gaze down to his folded hands.

"I think I should too." Birthday replied sardonically as he pushed himself up from the chair and began to depart.

"Thank you for coming." Art hadn't forgotten his manners, but for some reason, the other's words had set Birthday off. He whirled back around, facing the superintendent with vexing eyes.

"Oh save the damn formalities with me, Art. We know too much of each other to do that, and yet there you are sitting there like a man I just met on the street." Birthday's finger pointed accusingly at Art, as if lightening would shoot from the appendage to strike sense back into the superintendent. Meanwhile Art sat frozen upon the bed, never having been yelled at before like this. At those large unblinking violet eyes, Birthday let his hand drop and stuffed them back in his pocket before letting out an indignant huff.

"Tch, what have you turned yourself into, Art? I hate it." Violet eyes swiftly diverted from the other minimum holder, refusing to show how much the words had hurt him. He would rather be electrified by Birthday than this.

Art looking away only seemed to fuel Birthday's anger even more as he advanced on the superintendent, "Don't you dare look away, Art. Don't you look away for a second." Birthday's hands gripped Art's shoulders to direct the other to look back at him, though all he saw was the fear in those violet eyes once more.

"I've read the reports, I've talked to Ratio, and yes you're alive, Art. Can't you see; you're Alive! And yet when I look at you, all I see is this self-loathing; this pathetic self-pity. Snap out of it! I hate it. Just live, Art, li—"

Art was breathing hard, hand still suspended in the air as his vexed eyes narrowed down on Birthday until he realized what he had just done. "I-I'm so sorry. Birthday, are you alright? Birthday?"

Birthday held his hand up as a sign for Art to very kindly shut-up. His hand came to lightly rub the sore cheek, as he opened and closed his mouth to make sure his jaw still functioned.

"Tch," A bitter smile slashed across Birthday's features, "You know what I hate the most, Art? It's not just the pity party, but this. You're pushing me away, Art, and not only me but Nice as well. Someone you considered your friend. Well I hate to break it to you but friends don't treat each other like this. They just don't."

Birthday stood up, eyes holding Art's to make sure the other heard him. "You know I almost died once. I lived with people telling me that I was going to die, even Ratio believed so until I did the impossible right here in this very hospital. I survived when no one else believed I could, and because I'm alive, I keep on living. So don't you dare think you are better off dead, Art. You're alive for a reason and if you think you deserve to be dead, then start proving yourself wrong by living."

Art could only stare at Birthday for some time, letting the other's words settle while Birthday placed back on his disguise to leave, though before he could Art stopped him.

"Thank you…Birthday. I…I needed that." Blond brows rose at the other's change of demeanor. He could see the guilt in Art's eyes where there was once self-pity. A small smile crossed his features, glad that Art had listened.

"You know, it's never too late to apologize. I mean, I don't do it, but that's what I've heard."

Art couldn't help but return the smile. It was the first genuine smile in a while, "I'm sorry that I hit you, Birthday."

"No, not me, I meant Nice. Kid's been moping around for the past few days."

"Oh…" Art's smile had visibly fallen as Birthday returned to Art's side to place a hand on the man's shoulder, though gentler this time than the last.

"Just call him, Art. Even if it's just a short conversation. I'm sure that would set him at ease, promise?"

A small doubtful smile found its way to Art's lips, "I'd be surprised if he talked to me."

"He will, and I'm not forgiving you for hitting me until you call him."

"Alright," Art relented, "I promise."

"Thanks." Birthday gave a departing pat to Art's shoulder, "Well I'll see you around then, Art. Take care."

"You too." Art watched as Birthday left, leaving him to his own devices once more. Birthday's words continued to run through his head as for the first time he felt hopeful. 'Maybe…maybe my body isn't made for minimums.' Art thought to himself. After all, it had been a few days and no one had dropped dead. It couldn't hurt to call Nice, right?

Violet eyes looked up to check the time before he decided that he should probably call soon since Birthday would probably ask Nice as soon as he saw him. After half an hour of convincing himself that everything would be fine, Art picked up the hospital phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

TBC…

A/N: So I hope I didn't make Birthday OCC here. I know he's sort of a happy-go-lucky character but I also believe he's not afraid to call people out like he did with Ratio. With that said, I hope you enjoyed this and I hope to update soon as well. Thanks for reading and goodnight/morning and everything in between.