Chapter 7
If Asami was the type of man to sit back and let the doctors do their thing, he'd be sitting in the hospital waiting lounge with the other riff-raff, drinking vending machine coffee and reading Golf Digest. But he was not that type of man. Right now, he felt like a big cat trapped in a too small cage as he waited impatiently, only stopping to stare at his watch or glare at the receptionist, as if she could speed up time. All this staring and glaring, combined with the smell of anti-septic and grief, gave him a headache.
But why was he pacing in the waiting room anyway? Did it have to do with the fact he was not a member of Akihito's family? The fact he couldn't make decisions on Akihito's welfare, despite the fact as his owner/master he had rights? He guessed the hospital didn't recognize those rights, and that was probably a good thing, as people kind of frowned on that whole humans owning other humans issue.
He thought of taking out (and not on a date) the stoic guard dog with a well-placed punch. But when he got a look at said guard dog that stood like a statue by the staff only sign, he almost cringed. Almost, but not quite. The guy was bigger than Suoh and ten times as menacing, and as much as a brawl sounded real fun right now (as he had nothing better to do), he decided not to play that card. Not yet anyway.
In other words, until Akihito's parents could be contacted (they were in China on a trip or something), he was in the dark, as usual. That is until he could purchase the hospital and fire everyone or Kirishima could fix this problem with a little wave of his hand. And Kirishima would, he was sure of it. He was so sure that when Kirishima ran off like Superman to do whatever it is that he does, he didn't think of a back-up plan. He didn't need one.
However, as he glared at the receptionist again, he saw his back-up plan standing there, a clipboard in her hand, wearing a white coat like it was made for her, in fact she practically glowed with white healing light. If Asami was the kind of man to leap for joy with this woman's appearance, then he'd be wearing a tutu and leaping…for joy, but he wasn't that type of man. There, in front him stood Saito Fuyu, his omiai partner, as lovely and perplexing as when he last saw her, except now with more bling.
He immediately sidled up to her side, and mustering all the pheromones he could, blasted her with a flirtatious look, forgetting that she was immune to his charms. There was probably an anti-Asami vaccine out there, as he could think of no other reason why she wasn't taken in by his sexy self.
"Fancy meeting you here." He said, and she turned to him, with an all-knowing smile on her face, and a pink tongue peaked out to lick the black loop piercing her lip.
"Isn't that my line?" She responded. "Are you stalking me now?" She was kidding of course.
"I have a favor to ask," He might as well cut to the chase, seeing as his last conversation with her rendered him speechless.
"Let me guess, I'm supposed to pretend to be your girlfriend so your mother will leave you alone." She cocked her head in that fashion that girls do in Japan, which he always found annoying, but when she did it, it looked sort of charming. Don't start picking out wedding china just yet, though. "I'm sure she'd be taken with my visage."
He laughed. "No, but that would be fun." He said, and smirked even though he didn't really feel like it, mainly because he was….worried…..no. . .concerned…no. . .mildly inconvenienced, yes…mildly inconvenienced by Akihito's current medical problem.
"What is it, Asami-sama? I'm a busy woman." She sounded irritated and she probably was, given that she was cracking her knuckles like she was going to beat him to a bloody pulp next.
"I didn't know you were a doctor." He should remind her of her Hippocratic Oath, seeing as how he didn't like to hit girls and he was rather scared of all the thick skull-shaped gothic rings on her fingers. Those would leave a mark.
"You didn't ask." She responded.
"Let's go talk somewhere in private, shall we? Would you like some coffee?" He said, turning up charm, all the way past 10…to 11, which is right after 10. But he left the math to Kirishima, so what did he know?
"You have three minutes, I'm on rounds." And she meant it.
"Then let's walk, while you do your rounds." And he planned to slip off and find his pet's room while she did rounds, whatever rounds meant.
"That would be a flat out…no." Well, there went that plan.
He pulled her to the side, because right then, receptionist girl was leaning forward, trying to spy on their conversation, and he hated spies, as much as he hated assassins. He also hated clowns, but then again, who didn't?
"I have a friend here….a patient, Takaba Akihito. I need to know his status."
"A friend?"
One well-groomed eyebrow raised, Asami's not hers. Her eyebrows look like they were painted on, maybe that's because they were. "Since I'm not family, the doctors won't play nice and share. I'm being kept in the dark. I can't even go into his room."
She nodded, again with that all-knowing smirk on her face, like she knew all about him and what he did with the boy currently under her care. "He's got malaria, and a bacterial infection, from his poor fitting prosthetic." She said candidly. "He's stable, his fever is down, but he's still in a coma."
"Coma? But…stable is good, no?"
"Stable is the best we can do." She responded in that doctor voice, that all doctors seem to have. That doctor voice, which sounded like how he thought Buddha might sound like…wise, with a helping of bitterness for the descent of mankind into the madness of suffering.
"Take me to him." He ordered, forgetting that she wasn't one of his men, and he probably should ask a little nicer. Eh…fuck being nice.
"Why are you trying to make trouble?" She asked, because in her book, Asami equals trouble. So if A=t and T=t and then you solve for t. Then t=AT. In other words, Asami and Takaba together were trouble's dynamic duo. Get those guys some spandex and a time slot because that show would be a hit.
"I don't want to make trouble for you, but he's my…friend." And he wasn't sure if it was he that said it. It sounded so girly and left a bad taste in his mouth, good thing he had some cinnamon toothpicks.
She laughed hysterically, and Asami had the sudden urge to run like hell. "I won't get in trouble. My father is director of this hospital."
"It pays to have friends in high places."
"Or one well-placed relation…come, walk this way." And he practically skipped by the stoic guard dog, who gave him a menacing glare, his fangs dripping with saliva. Actually, none of that happened, especially the skipping part, because tough mob bosses don't skip. (Tough mob bosses have rules too, you know).
She ushered him into a small dark hospital room and bent over Akihito's so slight form which seemed overwhelmed by the machines standing guard around him, and checked his pupils with a blinding flashlight. "This didn't happen and we didn't have this conversation. Capiche?"
"That is rapidly becoming my new favorite word." He knelt by Akihito's bed and quickly pulled a chair next to him. Akihito's pale hand dangled over the bed, kept prisoner by a mass of wires and tubes, looking like an octopus had swallowed him whole. Akihito took a deep breath and lay still again. Now he knew what shit looked like….a chunk of dog poo, left out in the sun and bleached white. That is what Akihito looked like, as he breathed deeply again, his ashen skin trembling with fever.
"Huh…really, my favorite word is cicatrize." For some reason they were whispering, as if they could wake the sleeping lion's cub.
"Meaning…."
"To heal…and form a scar. You, I think, can appreciate that word, can't you?" She scribbled onto her clipboard. "Scars can still hurt though, Asami-sama. Judging by what his co-worker said when I talked to her earlier, Akihito scars run deep, and he's having nightmares." She threw a bottle of pills she drew from her pocket from her whiter than white coat and he caught it with a sharp rattle. "Found those in his pants."
"Only a few left." He read the label, which was mostly in Portuguese carefully. "Ambien?" He opened the bottle.
"From the bags under his eyes, I'd say they weren't that effective, even at that high a dosage."
He opened the bottle and looked at the pills carefully. "That's because it's not Ambien."
"Yeah, I gathered. We have yet to get the results of the toxicology test, but my guess is they took his money and gave him sugar pills."
"Taken for a ride, again." He shook his head. "Is there anything I can do, name it."
"Stay by his side. Talk to him. A familiar voice, someone waiting for him….he might wake up sooner rather than later. That high of a fever, he might have some lingering brain damage."
"Seizures?"
"The C-T scan looked clear…but, there are areas that are dark from his previous brain surgery."
"Dark?"
"Brains take time to heal. Sometimes, when there is scar tissue, it looks dark on the scan, even if there is brain activity there." She looked at her chart again. "Until we get his records from Afghanistan, I can't be sure what damage we are looking at, if any."
He felt the bile in his throat again. "I think medical mumbo jumbo is worse than legal mumbo jumbo."
"I live for medical mumbo jumbo, that and a cold ale on a warm day."
"Well, then, one of these days, I'll treat you to a cold ale." He replied.
"I will collect on that, Asami-sama." She flashed him a peace sign. "If anyone asks, you're his dad."
"Big brother." He argued.
"Fine." She sighed, winked at him and left quickly, leaving him alone with Akihito and Asami's own troubled thoughts.
When the door closed, he looked back at Akihito's sleeping, still form. "So, Akihito, you got in trouble again?" He flicked a toothpick in his mouth. "Why am I not surprised?"
Akihito took a deep breath, as if in response. "Do you know the things I thought about while you were gone? Shall I tell you?"
Akihito's pinky finger twitched.
"I'll take that as a yes. Right now, even though you're sick, I'm thinking about that night, when we….made love, in the limo. You and I, we put the games aside, didn't we, do you remember?"
The heart rate monitor pumped out a roll of paper and then fell silent once more, other than the rhythmic beep beep.
"I for one will never forget. You gave yourself to me that night. All of you. I had you then, and I thought I would always have you."
Akihito took a deep breath again and his leg moved. "And then I had to let you leave my side, again."
Asami picked up Akihito dangling hand and placed it under the covers. It was cold.
Asami smirked. "So now, I'm really the bastard you think I am, because right now, the things I want to do to you, when you wake up."
Akihito's whole body trembled and then lay still. "Right now, if I had my way, we'd be at my house, going at it like bunnies…I thought of very little else, other than you. You've made me fall, Akihito."
Akihito took a breath and his right arm fell again, the pulse ox meter pulled off his finger and Asami replaced it before a nurse was alerted and interrupted his soliloquy.
"I've fallen. I don't know when it happened, maybe when I realized that sending you away….." and Asami paused a moment and took a breath that mimicked Akihito's. "was a mistake."
Akihito stirred. He thought he saw his eyes quiver and open but he must have been wrong, because Akihito just took a deep breath and stilled again.
"So now, I'm willing to do stupid, foolish things for you. In the end, I haven't dragged you down into hell at all. It was you…..who pulled me up….into the light." He chuckled. "Guess I'm getting poetic, in my old age."
The heart monitor made another useless printout again. "I will give you good dreams while you sleep, Akihito. And when you wake…I will still be here. . . "
". . .that I promise." He said, and he gave Akihito a tender peck on Akihito's dry, pale lips.
