Whoa! I updated this anthology!
R & R peeps.
Out of all the members of Section 9, Pazu was the only one that hadn't visited Togusa at the hospital.
The knowledge made him feel him terrible, but he didn't think he would be able to stand seeing the natural man limp and unmoving in the hospital bed, hooked up to God knew what kind of apparatus. Togusa had been in a coma for two years and he showed no signs of waking up. Pazu wasn't sure if he could face the true physical evidence.
But then what was he doing here?
Pazu parked his car and leaned back in his seat. For the first time in a long time, he wished he hadn't given up smoking. But Togusa had always hated the habit, so after the accident, Pazu gave it up.
He gripped the leather-wrapped wheel in his hands. It squeaked softly as his hands tightened, relaxed, and tightened again.
In reality, he knew the answer to his silent question.
Around three o' clock that morning, he had woken up feeling hungry. So naturally, he went to the kitchen to get something to eat. And while he was looking for food in the pantry he already knew was empty, he got tired of himself.
He got tired of the fact that he was lonely. He got tired of not allowing himself to say what he wanted to say. He got tired of his one special talent -- of locking himself up in a little box, and waiting.
It was such a sad thing to be good at.
So because he was tired of himself, he decided once and for all that he was going to visit Togusa in the hospital. And...
He thought that maybe, if Togusa knew he had finally come, he might start getting...better. Not immediately, but...
This idea had only lurched out of Pazu's thought-process because of two-and-a-half hours of sleep as well as too much coffee.
But he knew he should stop wasting time. He got out of the car, and headed to the hospital entrance.
---------------------
He had the room number memorized. Togusa had been placed in a secluded, little-visited corner of the hospital; standing outside of it now, Pazu could feel his resolve weakening.
You came all this way, he thought to himself furiously. You can't back out now.
Watch me, the cowardly part of him replied.
Instead of running, he gritted his teeth and opened the door.
Naturally, it was quiet inside. The soft whirring of the EEG-monitor was all that interrupted the silence. A window with open shades faced the east, letting in the early morning sunlight, casting a golden rhombus on the floor, just at the foot of the bed. Pazu felt his throat fill. Togusa had always loved sunrises.
But he couldn't make himself look at the bed, at its occupant. He had managed to drag himself to the hospital and into the room, but he couldn't look at his own brother.
