"Okay, Hiroto – "
Honda shook his head, and said, "Just Honda." He didn't want a complete stranger calling him that – it felt too weird.
"Sorry. Honda. What's your friend's name?"
Honda could see the ambulance coming down the street behind the police officer. He voice was a little firmer as he answered, "Otogi."
The officer was writing things on a notepad, watching Honda carefully as though seeking some lie. "I need his full name."
"Ryuuji. Otogi Ryuuji." Honda had never actually called Otogi that, and it was a bit of a blow that the first time he had to use the name was in such a situation.
"Honda, you need to move so the paramedics can get to Mr. Otogi, okay?"
Honda nodded and took a deep breath.
Inhale. Exhale.
Still breathing. Still alive.
He sat up slowly, setting Otogi's hand on the seat. He was trembling as he made his way out of the car, and at first he couldn't bring himself to leave the car; he paused before the open door. The officer held a hand out to him, but he shook his head in refusal and hung his feet outside the door, standing. The second his feet touched the ground he crumpled; the officer caught him before he hit the ground. "Careful, now – we'll have someone look at you."
"I'm fine," Honda protested weakly as the officer led him to the squad car. He sat in the back seat, door open, legs resting outside the car. He leaned heavily on his knees. From what he could see the other car had hit them near the back door on the driver's side. From that direction, the other driver had been going the wrong way down a one-way road.
Paramedics were wheeling a stretcher to a second ambulance – one that Honda hadn't noticed. It was covered in a sheet. Someone had died. For a minute he panicked again, damn near hyperventilated.
"Calm down, son," the officer said, patting his shoulder. "One of the other driver's companions is okay – she said that they'd been drinking."
Honda didn't care.
Paramedics were accosting Otogi's car, and he was afraid. He didn't want to see Otogi covered in a sheet.
"Was this Mr. Otogi's car?" the officer asked.
Honda nodded.
"Does he have his license?"
Honda nodded again.
"Where were you headed?"
"My house," Honda answered. "We just turned the corner, and…" The officer was nodding, writing Honda's words down.
The paramedics were taking Otogi out of the car, onto a stretcher; Honda could see the rise and fall of his chest. He stood. "Hey, careful there," the officer warned, but Honda pushed away the concerned hands.
His voice was the firmest it had been all night. "I'm going with him."