For These Scars
~Chapter 3~
Written by: RinoaDestiny
King of Fighters, Kyo Kusanagi, Iori Yagami, and Saisyu Kusanagi belong to SNK
When he finally surfaced back into light and consciousness, there was a tube in his throat, an IV drip in his arm, a nurse changing his dressings, and a doctor standing nearby. He was weak and sore, still burning hot within and the sudden brightness hurt his eyes. He closed them again and felt the nurse's hand soft and cool against his forehead. Was he feverish? His body temperature had never been this high and…
Next to him, there was a steady beeping, precise and measured.
Murmuring around him, the coolness leaving his skin, and there were words exchanged which he couldn't make out. He kept his eyes closed – was exhausted, could drift off if given another minute to himself.
A fiddling sound. Metal and plastic. Something being switched. The same soft hand against his arm, checking the cold steel in his vein. A minor adjustment made and then the hand let go, gentle and reassuring.
The steady beeping lulled him to sleep, back into utter whiteness.
The second time he came to, his surroundings were clearer. Starker. He was in a single room, in an elevated bed and the beeping was from the heart monitor to his left. He still wasn't able to breathe on his own – he was still intubated – and nurses came and left. Some changed his dressings. Some checked his temperature – still high, still borderline feverish – and one of them switched his IV fluid bag before it ran empty. He soon gestured – his hands ached at the wrists – for paper and pen, since he couldn't communicate the usual way without discomfort.
They brought him what he asked for. The doctor also came.
He wrote; his hand shaky, characters scrawling on the smooth white page.
Where am I?
"You're in a hospital, Yagami-san," the young doctor said. He wore black-rimmed glasses and couldn't have been but a few years older than him. Doctor Yamashita, he read on the man's official name tag, which was pinned to the coat he wore. His head ached, throbbed behind his eyes. He closed them briefly, tried to suppress the sudden dizziness that overtook him.
The beeping to his left quickened – a swifter pace.
"Take it easy. You've been here a few days."
Opening his eyes again, he wrote on the pad, characters jagged and ugly: How long?
"You've been here four days. The previous hospital had to transfer you."
Why?
"You needed treatment for burns, Yagami-san. Specialization was required for that."
The other hospital? What for?
"According to your medical record, immediate emergency surgery. Your sternum was cracked and it affected your heart as well. Some minor tearing along the upper ribs where they joined the sternum. They had to stabilize you before sending you here. You almost died that night, Yagami-san. At one point, you stopped breathing. When they brought you back, they immediately sent you here. The burns were affecting your treatment, you see."
How?
The doctor looked down at his clipboard, at the notes on it. "Dehydration. Your lungs were filling with fluid – required draining but first we had to locate the cause of injury. Yagami-san, you have scarring in your lungs. We were also considering skin grafts for your other burns but…"
What? What is it?
"You don't have enough to enable that, unless we get it cultured and that takes time."
He almost dropped the pen, as comprehension gave way to shock.
"Except for your face, neck, hands, and feet, the rest of your body suffered second and third degree burns. We have it under control now but we monitored you for infection. Dehydration was something we took care of immediately."
He glanced at the IV fluid bag hanging from its steel stand and then followed its extension to the IV drip in his arm. Noticed for the first time the bandages wrapped around his arms and how they continued under his hospital gown's sleeves. He did have to put the pen down, then, because his hand started shaking. The beeping on his left picked up and it was as if his heart hammered against the confines of his chest, desperate to get out.
"Yagami-san, calm down."
He shut his eyes. Refused to open them.
His sternum. His burns. Bits and pieces began coming back – his mind resisting, not wanting to know – and then those minute memories turned to flood. Surged at him in a rush, brutal and unstoppable. The heat within shot up, overwhelmed him. He gasped and that hurt with the tube in his throat. But that didn't ache – didn't agonize him half so much as he remembered and how remembering again tore his world asunder.
The knock at his door.
Saisyu Kusanagi demanding answers. Answers he didn't have to give.
His sternum breaking, ice-cold pain that stole his breath, robbed his strength. How his arm fell, how he would've fallen if not for Saisyu holding him upright, driving channeled heat through him like molten flame.
How he wanted to scream but couldn't. How it kept going on and on until it was done. Over.
Saisyu standing over him, above him, icy contempt and hatred plain on his face.
What he was told. How it was told to him.
The door closing. His world broken. His world still breaking.
He clenched his hands together, holding fast as though it kept him from falling apart. The doctor was speaking – he could hear sound – but he no longer knew the words. The only words that resounded were Saisyu's and each one echoed in his head like death knells.
He'd been burnt with fire but those words were scars upon his heart now.
He didn't know how to proceed from here, how to continue with those words…with…
He wanted to scream, to cry but couldn't. How was he to…how to even express…
Voices near him now. Soothing tones to offer comfort. There was no comfort here. There had been, but it'd been taken away from him and…
There was nothing he could do. Nothing at all.
Heat surged again – scalding, a scorching within – and then darkness claimed him, merciful once more.
His temperature refused to fall. Continued to hover around that threshold of fever, keeping him flushed and uncomfortable. He began to realize with a slow growing horror what had been done to him. Whatever technique Saisyu used – he also became aware that he'd never faced the other man before all this – turned his own body against him, created within him a perpetual furnace. An undying heat that circulated and peaked in intervals. It wasn't going away and probably never would. A fitting and vicious retribution to someone from the Yagami clan – the Kusanagi flame always punishing, always devouring, always burning. He turned his head, felt sweat roll down into his hair, dampening it and then seeping into the pillow beneath him.
He'd been burned before but this…
This was…
His mouth was dry, his eyes were hot, his skin stretched too tight on his face – spared because he wasn't permitted a quick end – and the doctor said…
He shut that thought down before it arose. Before it became painful to dwell upon.
The nurse watching him stood up, felt his forehead – smoothing his hair aside – and murmured something soft and gentle. He thought she said, "It's okay. It's okay," but the air seemed to shimmer around him, darkness encroaching again with fatigue and his hearing zoned out, sounds becoming mere echoes in the stillness…
He asked for his belongings, if he had any with him when he was taken in. The nurse assigned to his floor brought over the few things he had. It wasn't much. His wallet. His keys. His phone. He fumbled with it, opening it with trembling fingers and then froze. Stared in disbelief, in agony, with emotions he couldn't pin down.
Kyo had called. Had texted. At five, like he usually did. Then at five thirty and then every ten minutes after that. Voice messages in his voice mailbox. Text messages asking if he was all right. To get back to him. The messages didn't stop until six and with each one, Kyo sounded more worried.
Five. Saisyu had…wasn't it at three or a little after?
At five, he was…he wasn't conscious. Had passed out, was evidently in good hands afterwards. Had been fighting for his life…had died or almost did, according to the doctor. Had nearly succumbed to his injuries.
Kyo had called. Had texted. And he…
Saisyu's words were a brutal blow, the sharp recall stirring terror deep within. If he called, if he texted back…
If you approach him, if you even contact him, I'll bring the rest of the clan – without him – and give you such a death that there won't even be ashes left.
He wasn't afraid of death itself. Knew he was going to die young. It was how, though, that made the difference. Dying from the curse was expected, inevitable. He'd made his peace with it a while back. Didn't know how it'd come but it wasn't like he could stop it. But this…what Saisyu threatened, would carry out if he offended?
To be obliterated like that…
He shuddered. Found himself gripping his phone tight, knuckles white.
The bandages starting from his wrist and going up…the scarring…Kyo called and he…he couldn't…
He was crying after all, silent tears falling and he allowed it, only because he hurt so much. Wept, with only the sounds of his wounded heart coming from the monitor to keep him company.