He saw her face, so pale and delicate, and his breathing stopped. His heart froze. His blood turned to ice. Her jade green eyes were gently shut, her face the picture of peace as she slept on. Yet there was no tranquility within Heiji as he gazed down at Kazuha's sleeping form. A layer of fog grew on the oxygen mask with every puff of air that left her mouth. She couldn't even breathe without help now. He felt his throat constrict painfully in guilt and fear.
All my fault...
There was no one to blame. No one to use as a scapegoat. It was no one's fault but his. He should have stopped her from following him to the crime scene. He should have discovered the killer so much sooner. He should have caught the culprit before Kazuha was injured. But he didn't. And now she was lying on the hospital bed, kept alive only by the machines that beeped endlessly around him. The heart monitor was slow, and he could see her heart was beating far too softly to be considered safe. The doctors had done all they could. Now it was up to fate.
Should have saved her...
He still remembered every detail. The triumph of discovering who the murderer was. The horror of realizing Kazuha was in danger. The absolute, unconcealed terror when he found her, barely alive and bleeding from multiple cuts inflicted by a dull knife. The killer was a twisted creature. He didn't just shoot the victim and run. No, he tied them up, gagged and bound, and drew out their death slowly. It had been pure luck that Heiji had come when he did. The demon had been seconds from finally slitting Kazuha's throat when he burst into the basement.
The detective shuddered as he recalled Kazuha's deathly state from only hours ago. Her clothes were torn and soaked with scarlet (and he found himself despising the color), barely conscious and with tears falling from her fearful eyes. She had whimpered his name as he crouched beside her, stroking her hair and whispering empty assurances that everything would be alright as he dialed for an ambulance.
Could have lost her...
He heard his own breathing grow ragged. She could have died. She could have been killed by that monster, her final moments spent in agony. What would he have done if she had died? What would he have done if he came just a second too late?
He would kill the man. There was no doubt in his mind that if Kazuha had died, he would have killed the demon. And then he would probably die, from guilt and something else, something he hadn't realized was there until now.
When he saw her, when he realized how close he had been to loosing her... Heiji realized one thing.
I love you...
He almost wanted to laugh. Had it really taken him that long to realize it? Kazuha and Kudo were right. He was an idiot. To think that it had taken her to be inches from death for him to finally see just what she was to him. It was pathetic. Completely and utterly pathetic.
So please...
He placed a hand on her pale forehead, marveling at how her skin looked snowy white against his dark fingers. He brushed her bangs out of her eyes, lowering his hand to run his fingers through her hair. He loved her. And he would never let her go. Whenever the Reaper came to take her from him, he would fight the demon to his very last breath to get her back. Kazuha was his, and he would not let Death have her.
Please don't leave me.
Heiji stilled his hand, moving it so his fingers were brushing against her cheek, on the small part that wasn't covered by the oxygen mask. Wake up, he begged, wake up.
As though hearing his silent pleadings, there was the slightest twitch in Kazuha's face. The fog on the mask grew thicker. The beeping of the heart monitor grew stronger. Heiji held his breath, watching, praying that this was a miracle, that whatever angels had watched over him were now extending their protection to her. Please. Please. Please.
And slowly, jade green eyes met his.
Not sure where this came from. At all. But I think I like this one, even if it is a bit short. I have yet to give you guys a proper Heiji/Kazu fic, so here it is! Kind of.