Chapter 4: Which Is Far Too Full of Blood

It was such a stupid thing to have happened.

There had been a sickening thud. And Hisoka had been thrown flying back against the still open car door, breaking open his face against the shattering window before sliding to the ground in a heap.

The horrified driver had stopped, run out of her car, babbling, babbling, it wasn't her fault, she'd come round the bend, and the boy had just appeared, and she couldn't stop in time, she had been speeding, but it was always a quiet road, and it wasn't her fault, babbling, babbling…

Strangely cool, Tatsumi ignored her, checking on Hisoka's breathing, his pulse, dialled emergency, and was not surprised to find there was no signal. Tatsumi was a rational man. And rationally, he knew his son had been impetuous, foolish. But Tsuzuki Asato would pay for this. And the lady too perhaps.

But first things first.

He judged the head wound to be worst. He ripped off his tie, folded it up, and held it against the bleeding. A small wet groan came from his boy. He was lying at a horrible angle. Tatsumi did not dare to move him. The woman was still blubbering. He snapped at her, commanding, and she drove off for help, still hysterical.

And somewhere beneath the calm exterior, a father screamed soundlessly in fear and denial…

Note: Thanks verily to the Angel of the Eclipse for the kind words and pointer about the log-in reviews. I did not know the setting was such. I think I've fixed it. Does that mean I'll get more reviews now? )