Kazuya had only been under anesthesia once to get his wisdom teeth removed. They had started to cause problems in his early teens, beginning with mild irritation to eventual swelling that made it painful to talk. So he had them removed younger than most typically do, and the initial aftermath of waking up from the anesthesia was a blank space in his memories, and thankfully, his dad was not the type to film any of the weird stuff he had no doubt been uttering.

Then again, his dad wasn't necessarily the type to capture memories in photo or video form, so there really wasn't any memorabilia of Kazuya's late childhood. Kazuya grew used to it, and besides, he was too busy with baseball to worry about whether or not his father was sitting on the sidelines with a camera in hand (he wasn't), since the coach's assistant usually had that covered. Will he regret that in the future if or when he wants to look back on childhood memories? Possibly, but that's a problem for later. Though he was pretty positive he still had some of his baby photos, he just needed to locate them. But again, it wasn't a major concern for him at this point in time.

So when the anesthesiologist placed a mask over his face, he expected the anesthesia to go as well as it had that first time, but he really should have considered that things were very different from then to now.

Consciousness returns to him in a haze, with an odd cottony feel in his mouth and a nasty aftertaste that clung to the back of his tongue. Kazuya lifted a hand to rub at his eyes –

– only his hand didn't move. Puzzled, he makes an attempt to even just shift his hand, and still nothing. The only thing he got for his efforts was a small twitch of a finger as if there was a filter in his brain that was cutting off signals sent to the rest of his body. Kazuya had a brief thought of paralysis, before a sharp pain ignited on his face, halting any and all questions or theories he otherwise may have had.

The pain was short-lived, at least, that was until it returned, slightly lower than where the first jab had been. This time, the ache felt like it was cutting across his face; traveling an already set path, then stopped. Kazuya felt something trickle down his cheek before something else –soft yet scratchy– patted at the trail and immediately disappeared afterward. Kazuya wanted to move his head; turn his face away from whatever the cause was, but like his hand, his head didn't so much as budge. His frustration grew when he felt a pressure near his eye and the pain started up again, just along his cheekbone and the cycle repeated.

Suddenly, he heard voices; sounding distant yet close at the same time. His brain was still too muddled to decipher what was being said, but his paranoia only began to grow from there. There was a quiet voice in the back of his mind, the only one he could make out, telling him to open his eyes; open his eyes so he could at least see what the hell was going on. But his eyelids didn't want to cooperate with him either; they felt heavy like his body was still asleep even though his mind was awake.

When it began to feel as if something was slicing off a thin strip of his flesh, Kazuya did manage to force his eyes open, but only by a crack. Immediately he was blinded by a white light that caused him to close them again. The pressure on his face paused and things went quiet. More suspicious, Kazuya peeled his eyes open again, straining to keep them that way, despite the light uncomfortably piercing them. As his eyes adjusted, he saw two silhouettes that hovered above him, backlit by white light that obscured any details of their faces. The more he stared, the more focused everything became; or, as focused as his normal eyesight would allow anyway. And as he gazed up at the figures that stared back at him, he took notice of the blue masks that covered the bottom half of their faces with some sort of clear, plastic visor that shielded their eyes.

And then he remembered that he was in a hospital to have the wound on his face neatened up and possibly glued closed. From what was discussed before the procedure, when the doctors were inspecting the laceration, they briefly explained that they wanted to get in there and see what damage had been done, then clean up the edges so it would heal a bit neater. Which entailed them to trim the sides so the edges would be fresh again to more easily fuse back together. Since areas of the wound had already begun the process of closing, they essentially had to reopen it. From what Kazuya understood, the procedure was minor, but it would be slow going as they wanted to minimize the amount of scarring.

So why was he awake? The surgeons appeared to be wondering the same thing as they glanced between him and each other, before whispering back and forth amongst themselves. "You're not supposed to be awake," one finally said.

No shit, Kazuya wanted to reply, if his mouth would work, but instead, he's only left with blinking slowly up at them.

He would really like to go back to sleep now; go back to being blissfully numb. And thankfully, he got what he wished for as an arm appeared from above his head to place the mask back over his face. He breathed in deep, and several long seconds later, he was out.

The next time he wakes, it's to someone poking and prodding around the laceration on his face. He scrunched his nose up in annoyance. It didn't necessarily hurt, but there's a slight irritation there like it should, which led him to believe he was on the good drugs. By the time he squinted his eyes open, the nurse above him had replaced the bandaging and began to fiddle with the IV bag next to his bed.

Once she was satisfied, she turned and noticed Kazuya's gaze, "Well good morning," she said with far too much pep. Kazuya could only groan in response, lifting a hand to try and rub the sleep from his eyes, but paused to stare at the pristine white swath of bandage wound around his palm and down around his wrist; hiding the ugly shreds of flesh from sight, regardless, Kazuya had stared at them enough that he could still see the tatters in his mind's-eye. He wondered how they'll appear once they have healed. What kind of scars would they leave; to be permanent marks on his body? Kazuya could tell by how they tore at his flesh, and with how long they had gone untreated, that they wouldn't heal clean or even.

Out of his peripherals, Kazuya noticed the nurse silently watching him, hand frozen in the air in front of his face. With a sigh, he continued the motion, pressing a knuckle against his eye and allowing the other to fall closed.

"I'll go let the doctor know you're awake," The nurse said softly, then footfalls that trailed away indicating her departure. Kazuya lets his arm flop back to the bed beside him to stare blankly up at the ceiling, the tiles blurred together in his vision. He was still tired, but he didn't feel like he would be able to fall back to sleep even if he wanted to. The lethargy lingered, causing his movements to be sluggish, yet his mind was wide awake.

Gently, Kazuya stretched the stiffness from his legs, feeling the slight constriction around his ankles, telling him that the wounds there had been properly dressed as well. With another sigh, Kazuya forced his body to relax onto the thin mattress underneath him.

That's when the door opened and the doctor walked in, clipboard in hand. She came to a halt next to his bed, then pulled up a nearby chair to seat herself into, "Hello, Miyuki. I'm Dr. Akanishi. How are you feeling?"

When Kazuya made an attempt to respond, he found that his mouth was utterly dry, barely even had enough saliva to swallow. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, and no matter where it rested, it felt unnatural; as if he were in an alien body, learning to adjust to an appendage he never had.

Kazuya forced himself to swallow the little saliva he had to slightly soothe his equally dry throat before he parted his lips to rasp out, "Fine," which was a lie in the general sense of the term, but society had turned it into a default response, especially in polite company. It sure didn't help that he and Sawamura had grown even more accustomed to telling themselves that they were 'fine' or 'okay', with the minor hope that they would eventually convince themselves that those were true. The phrases had quickly turned into a coping mechanism. Something to get them through each moment of hopelessness.

Akanishi didn't appear to believe him, but it wasn't a complete lie, since compared to how much pain he had been in, the weird numb sensation and lethargy were significantly better. She didn't call him out on it, but instead, she reached over for a plastic bottle of water that sat on his bedside table, bending the straw toward his lips.

Greedily, he drinks. Kazuya hadn't realized just how thirsty he was. Toward the end of their captivity, what food and water they were offered grew fewer and farther between; just enough to keep them alive, and keep them weak. Though in the end, pure desperation, adrenaline, and surprise were enough for them to free themselves. It may have been luck, the kidnapper had grown complacent with them, allowing them a window of opportunity, even if it was risky. But Kazuya was so used to feeling hunger and thirst, that he blocked the sensations out. Though it helped that he had far more on his mind at the time to offer as a distraction.

Once satisfied, he let his head fall back onto his pillow while Akanishi set the bottle back on the table. He could feel the water settle in his empty stomach, expanding it in a way it hadn't in a long time. Though no sooner than he allowed himself to relax, a burning pain ignited in his stomach, causing him to hiss out a startled breath and clutch a hand onto his abdomen.

"Something wrong?" Akanishi asked, her gaze steady and observant.

Kazuya took a shallow breath in and gritted out, "Stomach," through clenched teeth. Already he could feel the water want to come back up.

Akanishi hummed in thought, "What kind of pain is it? Sharp; burning?"

"Burning, definitely burning."

"How long has this been going on?"

Kazuya offered a sardonic chuckle that he immediately regretted when the pain reignited through his abdomen, "I couldn't even tell you." Akanishi winced minutely, seeming to have realized her error.

"Well, do you have any other symptoms? Something like nausea or vomiting?" As she spoke, she reached her hand out to prod around his stomach, pushing Kazuya's own hand out of the way, though with great reluctance on his part.

"Yes, to both."Akanishi applied pressure along different points of his abdomen. Direct touch to the exterior didn't agitate the pain anymore. She noticed his lack of reaction and retracted her hand.

"When does it normally happen?" She flipped a few pages on her clipboard and pulled a pen out of the breast pocket of her coat.

Kazuya opened his mouth to respond but paused as he really thought about it. The first time had come so suddenly and violently, that he couldn't figure out what had set it off. If it was something that was building up, or if it really was just that spontaneous. The time afterward only included the occasional twinge of pain and nausea, and Kazuya simply wrote it off as hunger pangs. It wasn't until he chugged more water than he has had in a while, that the pain set in at full force; comparable to the initial time it happened. So that had to mean something; right? "It seemed to get worse after I drank the water."

Akanishi silently scribbled over her clipboard, long enough for Kazuya to wonder if she had even been listening. "So," she finally began, "from what I'm hearing, it sounds like it could be a peptic ulcer. Of course, I won't know for sure until we get an endoscopy done, which I'll go ahead and schedule you down for one." Kazuya furrowed his eyebrows at the term, "It's a mild procedure that you'll be awake for, though we do administer a muscle relaxer to make it easier. Then we'll insert a tube with a camera down your throat and into your stomach so we can get a visual. There can be several causes such as; increased stomach acid, bacterial, or even physiological stress. Once we're in there we can determine the cause and treat it accordingly."

It sounded decisively not pleasant, but Kazuya wasn't going to fight her on it. At this point in his life, he's been through worse.

"I also wanted to talk to you about your surgery. Originally, the goal was to use glue over stitches as that would make the edges of the scars neater, however, whatever was used to create the laceration wasn't the sharpest and tore the skin so unevenly, that when the surgeons trimmed and cleaned the area, it left too large of space between skin for the glue to effectively hold. So the worst areas, being your forehead and cheek, had to have a total of sixteen stitches, and glue where it was more thin and shallow, like along the bridge of your nose." She pointed along the bridge of her own nose as if Kazuya didn't know what that meant.

Regardless, Kazuya brought a hand up to lightly tap at the bandage under his eye, partially expecting to feel the stitches through it, but was unsurprised when he barely registered the touch through the layers. At the moment, Kazuya wasn't too concerned with himself, "What about Sawamura?"

Akanishi chuckled softly, "I heard Sawamura had gone on an adventure in search of you when he woke up. Scared the nurses when they went to check on him and he wasn't there. He refused to leave your side so we've made accommodations and moved him into this room with you." She gestured to somewhere on the other side of his bed, and he turned his head to find Sawamura asleep on his stomach several feet away.

Kazuya released a silent sigh of relief, "How's his back?" he quietly asked, unable to look away.

She hummed in thought, "Well," a pause, "some of the deeper wounds had done damage to nerve endings, and once scar tissue has formed, he most likely won't feel much at all on his back. It's not going to look good for a while, but he'll heal."

That's all Kazuya cared about.

Akanishi stood, and Kazuya tore his gaze away from Sawamura to observe her as she turned to fiddle with his IV stand, "I'll up your dosage a tad for your stomach, then get your father to sign off on an endoscopy."

The sudden mention of his dad made his heart skip a beat, "He's here?" Kazuya's father was always busy, barely even had time to spend at home, so part of him assumed he wouldn't have time to sit around in a hospital either.

Akanishi tilted her head slightly in confusion, "Yes, he's been in the waiting room ever since he was informed you were being transferred here." And really, Kazuya shouldn't be that surprised. His father wasn't necessarily a bad parent, he was just…absent. But he hadn't always been. After his mom died, his dad threw himself more heavily into his work, where Kazuya could go days without seeing him, though he still did little things. Things such as sticking with their tradition of homemade sushi each New Year, as well as supporting Kazuya's endeavors with baseball, in the form of buying him any and all the equipment he needed. If anything, Kazuya would have expected his father to pop in once then leave; but never expected that he would stay.

"Oh." That was really all Kazuya could say. It wasn't like he and his dad were close. Kazuya wouldn't even know what to say to him if he saw him. What if his dad started crying? It wasn't likely, but what if? Kazuya didn't think he would escape his crying father mentally or emotionally unscathed.

The doctor took his mental turmoil as an opportunity to leave, presumably, to talk with his father.

Kazuya sighed once more into the silence of the room and turned to watch the soft rise and fall of Sawamura's back to distract himself.