Notes: My god, what did I do to Hisou? Anyway, here's the next part.

PART NINE

There was a light. So bright that it obstructed hi vision, making everything seem white. He squinted his eyes, trying to find out where he was. It was quiet, not even a single soul in sight. He blinked again, trying to adjust to the bright light.

He was lying on something soft, of that he was certain. The rest however, was a blur. He couldn't even remember why he was there and how he got there. He tried to crane his head sideways, looking around the seemingly all-white place

No wait…it IS all white

but not quite succeeding.

Am…am I dead?

Why can't I move my neck?

He tried to move his hands to his neck, feeling a cloth wrapped around it.

"Welcome back."

He tried to move his neck to the direction of the sound.

"Don't try to strain yourself too much, you seemed to have had a rough day."

That voice. He knew that voice.

Footsteps were coming in his direction and then there was a face above his, a familiar one. "Dr. Shitsuren?" he croaked.

Dr. Anrui Shitsuren, MD smiled, "Well, so glad you remember me," he looked at the record he held in his hands, "Mr. Hisoume Migoto."

Dr. Shitsuren looked at his X-ray results, "Hmm, seems to me you don't have any injury, how are you feeling?"

Hisou tried to feel his body, clenching and unclenching his hands, moving different parts of his body, wincing at some swollen muscles, "I've had better days, I guess. But, I'm fine. How did I…?"

"Get here? A friend of yours sent you here; he was with you the last time. He said you fell on the street," Dr. Shitsuren said, managing to remove the brace on Hisou's neck.

Hisou laid back and relaxed. That's right, he was running, trying to get away, then he spotted something. But, before he can even reach it, he fell. Now he remembered. But wait, who was he running from? He was trying to get away…from what?

Youshi.

He closed his eyes and covered his hands over them. He made a complete fool of himself tonight. He remembered that.

Confessing love…to a boy? What the hell were you thinking?

The sound of Dr. Shitsuren clearing his throat and speaking in a soft but incredibly deep voice brought him back to the present, "Your parents have been called. They should be here in a while."

He looked at the doctor, "How long was I out?"

Dr. Shitsuren looked up from what he was writing on the patient's record, "About four hours. It's nothing serious really, just over exhaustion. You were a bit cyanotic when you came in." When he saw the blank look Hisou gave him, he opted to explain, "You were lacking oxygen. But, you're fine now."

Hisou gave the doctor an appreciative smile.

"Oh! Hisou, baby! Are you okay? What happened to you?!"

Both Hisou and Dr. Shitsuren turned to the door, which was opened hastily, slamming to the wall, to see Hisou's parents. His mom, near frantic and his dad, calm and composed, but panic could still be seen in his eyes. He was probably just trying to keep his calm for Megumi's sake.

He smiled at his parents, about to say that he was okay and that they shouldn't worry, but Dr. Shitsuren beat him to it, "He's fine. Just exhausted, probably from stress."

Mr. and Mrs. Migoto looked at him thankfully for a moment, then turned to their son with worried eyes. Anrui blinked. For some strange reason, he just had the urge to cover up for the kid. He had never done this before, cover up for anyone. Judging the boy, he really doesn't look like the type to get into trouble much, but what happened tonight wasn't exactly a parent's dream. Although, he must admit, he had no idea what exactly happened. As a doctor, he has to remain as impersonal as possible so as to be able to make objective decisions. He didn't know why, but he just feels some strange connection to this kid. Come to think of it, even to his friends.

~*~

Megumi closed the front door as Mr. Migoto supported Hisou, leading him to the bedroom.

"Mom, Dad, I'm fine. I was just tired, nothing serious," Hisou said for about the eleven billionth time since they left the hospital.

"Nonsense," Megumi said, "You were tired enough to be taken to the hospital. I told you to lay low on the extra work, but you never listen!"

Hisou let out an exasperated breath. At eighteen years, he knew by now not to argue with his mom when she's worried. His mind once again trailed back to Youshi. He didn't accept him, but at least he sent him to the hospital. At least Hisou thinks he did. There were only two other people who were with him during Houki's accident. Hisaki was mad at him, Aiji's probably at home buried in books. So, that only leaves Youshi.

I should thank him. I owe him that, at least.

They entered his room to see Houki sitting on the edge of the bed, expression torn between worry, relief and anger at seeing them. Hisou in particular.

"Idiot! What, ya got jealous and wanted to be in the hospital, too?"

Mr. Migoto spoke up, "Houki, I suggest we do the telling off later. Why don't you fix that bed for your brother?"

Houki did, after which his father set him down. Despite his strong protests and heavy blushes, his mother insisted on washing him—or at least just wiping his back—and dressing him for bed. Afterwards, their parents left with kisses and goodnights, leaving the two in the room.

As the door closed, Houki turned to him, "So, howr'ya?"

He smiled, "M'okay, just tired is all." He yawned.

She laughed and kissed him on the forehead, patting his hair, "Well, best be sleeping now, huh?" She stood off the bed. "Oh yeah, those came for you earlier," she said, pointing to a bouquet of flowers on his nightstand.

Hisou looked at it skeptically, then turned back to Houki, "Yeah? From who?"

She shrugged, "Dunno. It was left on the door. Kinda like in Problem Child. Has a card, though."

Now, Hisou looked at HER skeptically, "Hey! Don't look at me like that, I didn't read it, I swear!" she laughed, backing away into the bathroom they shared. "Nyt!"

"G'night." He eyed the flowers with the card, debating on whether to open it or not. Slowly, he picked up the card. The envelope was red; he opened it and found a piece of paper.

Creasing his brows in confusion, he set the envelope on his lap and unfolded the piece of paper. It was paper, all right

…notebook paper…

And in it was a sketch

…of me

Below it was a phrase, written in neat Japanese characters: kiwotsukete.

Take care.

AN: The note with the sketch, it was supposed to be 'get well' but I didn't find the translation for that so, I just settled for this.