Chapter Two: Cruel Robbery

"Oh my God!" Armelle screamed as she came upon her unconscious son who was slung over Jirou's shoulder, looking very pale and feeling very cold, almost as if he was dead. Kuroudo had been found in that state by the Tobita Team captain, Kouya, on the tiled floor of the Marume's bathroom, sprawled with his hair and face soaked wet due to the water that dripped from the still-open faucet. He had obviously lost consciousness while cleaning up the mess he made in the lavatory sink, brought about by another cycle of nausea that had been bothering him ever since the Asian Cup. "Kyousuke, get him a shirt, quick! Second drawer from the top! Kouya, call for an ambulance! Please hurry, I beg you!"

As soon as Kuroudo was laid on the couch, she went to work, putting a fairly large pillow under his blond head to make him feel more comfortable --- Armelle could not help but worry about such trivial matters even if her son was practically unconscious --- and undressing him with a mother's loving touch. The young Gear Fighter was breathing, yes, but it was too slow that she felt like she could not breathe herself as she waited with much anticipation for the better for his chest to rise once more. Fainting was one thing; vomiting then fainting was another.

Kouya was yelling at the telephone, intended for the person at the end of the line, demanding the medical personnel to come to the Marume residence quickly before anything worse would take place. Kyousuke, on the other hand, was running down the staircase from Kuroudo's bedroom with a shirt in hand, white-colored like most of his best friend's upper garments. Handing it to the older Marume, he watched the scene that took place in front of him in silence, concern and frustration dominating his solemn face. How could I not have noticed?! How could I not have felt that something was wrong?! How could I not have known that something was wrong, when in fact Kouya did?! I'm supposed to be his best friend!

"Has this happened before?" Kuroudo's mother demanded, her voice rising in pitch and volume in her alarm. She had both her hands clamped over the young man's own, hoping to keep him safe and to keep him warm for the longest time possible. In fact, she was afraid that if she would let go, her son's life would slip away from her grasp, never to return. She told herself that she was being paranoid, but there was nothing she could do to make herself stop worrying. Not until Kuroudo would wake up and tell them that he was fine, not until a doctor would examine her little boy and tell her that he was fine.

"Back in Singapore, Marume-san, but it wasn't this serious. He just looked really pale --- paler than he normally is, I mean --- and we thought it was just the light because he said so himself," Jirou replied slowly and carefully, in a hesitant fashion, trying to pick the exact words to say. To frighten the terrified woman even more was something he did not want to do, but he was sure that the situation would grow worse if he'd answer her with a lie. "He stayed long in the bathroom again, although he told us that he met a friend on the way out. Now that I've seen him like this, I believe that something similar must've happened, too."

Though usually calm and composed like the young Gear Fighter, Armelle found herself screaming at her son's comrade, her emotions sputtering out of her control. "Never, ever believe him when he says it's nothing!" She regained her composure as soon as she lost it, however, making her gasp in surprise at what she did. Quickly, she muttered an apology to the baffled Jirou, who thankfully managed to tell her that he understood despite the fact that he was taken aback by her sudden outburst. Afterwards, she gripped Kuroudo's clammy hand even tighter, her tear-stained eyes fixed only on his still form and nothing else but that, hoping against hope that her one and only child would make it through whatever challenge he was fighting against.

Kuroudo hated hospitals, and to his misfortune, he regained consciousness only to find himself trapped inside one, alone and with no one to keep him company except a bunch of machines and devices that he didn't really care about. He only had the time to scowl at his ill luck for a second, however, for a series of thoughts and ideas immediately entered his mind as soon as his vision and sense of awareness returned --- questions starting with why. Why was he, of all places, in a hospital? Why didn't he feel too good, like he was going to have to go to the bathroom any minute and throw up? Why was the place so quiet, when even at early mornings, most infirmaries weren't?

The next set of questions began with what. What was going on? What happened to him? What happened to the medical personnel inside the hospital? He sighed as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position, almost unable to do so because of all the annoying technical devices that were attached to him. He remembered being inside his home, with his mother and his friends from the Tobita Club, eating and drinking as much as their bodies would allow them to. He recalled standing up and excusing himself from everyone else to go to… to the bathroom. He went to use the bathroom, because… because… because he felt like vomiting again, like all those other times. But unlike all those other times, he… he… he…

A frown appeared on his pale yet thoughtful features, his blue-green eyes narrowing significantly --- not because he could not remember what happened after he arrived in the bathroom, but because it was simply too quiet. Silence was Kuroudo's companion, his friend, and a very good one at that, as it enabled him to think straight and sort out his feelings and thoughts, but the tranquility that was keeping him company at that moment was simply unpleasant.

Then he remembered; the memory of his final moment of sentience at his home resurfacing from out of nowhere. He fainted after vomiting, releasing the grip he kept over his consciousness and succumbing to the force that had been trying to pull him into the darkness after every cycle of nausea. His friends must've checked up on him when he didn't return after a long time, finding him knocked out cold on the tiled floor, and panicking --- his mother, most especially --- they brought him over to the hospital to be examined and diagnosed for whatever was toying with him. And he could not say that there was nothing wrong with him, because he then would be lying, lying to himself. Deep inside his heart, he was certain that he was sick; he just did not know what that sickness was, only how sick he was.

His eyes then flew wide open, losing their color considerably as he fell back against the foamed bed and soft pillows, his body weakening evidently as the rest of the puzzle pieces closed on each other, fitting together and showing him the terrifying conclusion of the short story that was taking place. There was only one reason why he could not come up with a logical explanation to justify the stillness of the infirmary, only one reason why he was trapped inside its intimidating-looking white walls, only one reason why the silence seemed very uncomfortable for him.

Fate had just robbed him of his sense of hearing.

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Author's Notes: I'm evil, aren't I? I don't know why but the characters I tend to torture in fanfiction are those I love the most; in the case of CGT, Kuroudo. Anyway, thanks to all those who read and reviewed; you guys rock! It's fun to write, but it's a lot more fun when you know your efforts are appreciated. *grins*