"Miyuki! Change the channel!"

"Why? You wanted to watch this yesterday."

"It was a joke!"

"Was it?"

"Miyuki, please, I'm gonna die from cringe! Do you want that?!" As he said this, the "celebrities" on the television began to get into an argument over one of their siblings' dogs that had peed on the floor. Now, Eijun would hesitate to call them celebrities, as they were only famous because they had a lot of money. From what little Eijun knew about them, they only got views for the drama they tended to start. Basically, the entire show was a cringe-fest, with terrible acting to play up the fake drama.

Miyuki hummed in thought, eyes fixed on the screen, "Well, now I'm kinda curious if that's possible." At some point, Miyuki's father had brought a spare pair of glasses for him. Though neither of them has been allowed to see their family yet; at least, not until their infections were under control. Eijun vaguely recalled a nurse mentioning that they had to restrict access into the hospital, but he had been too out of it to even consider what that meant and never had a chance to ask.

Eijun gasped, "Don't make me get up, Miyuki Kazuya! Why do you get the remote, anyway?"

"Because I woke up first."

Eijun kicked at his blanket in a dramatic show of getting out of his bed, "I swear, Miyuki, when I get over there I'll –"

"I see you two get along well," Akanishi smoothly interrupted. Eijun paused, half propped up on an elbow, legs tangled in the thin blanket, and eyes wide as he stared at the door Akanishi just entered from, "No need to stop on my account," she said with a laugh, "Though Sawamura, I do recommend you stay in your bed. Just because you don't feel the pain, doesn't mean you're better."

Eijun flopped back onto his side with a pout. Akanishi continued into the room, followed by a nurse pushing a cart that made Eijun's heart sink, "Now?" he drawled despondently. Whenever a cart was brought in, it usually meant pain and discomfort for them. The only saving grace was the painkillers they were given afterward, however, even those had their downside as they made Eijun nauseous and tired.

"Once a day, unfortunately," Akanishi matched his tone. She and the nurse stopped at Miyuki's bed, as he was closest to the door. Which only gave Eijun time to wait in anticipation for his turn. He watched as they both slid their hands into surgical gloves, the nurse began prepping antiseptic and Akanishi reached toward Miyuki's face to slide off his glasses, and carefully peel the bandages away.

Miyuki stared blankly ahead, clearly not happy with the daily cleaning and redressing of their wounds, either. To be honest, they could start the day okay, minus any nightmares they may have woken up with, only for the doctor to come in and re-agitate their still very raw wounds. The rest of the day continued with the lingering side effects from the painkillers.

It had only been four days since they were brought to this hospital, the first two and a half were a blur for Eijun, as he had spent a lot of that time blissfully in and out of consciousness. Being awake hadn't been that great, and if he hadn't been in a room with Miyuki as a distraction, Eijun would have spiraled into the dark recess of his memories. Especially after each change of the bandages, when his mind would helpfully supply him with flashbacks.

"Hey Doc, how difficult would it be to get two remotes?" Eijun asked as he watched Akanishi dab a soaked cotton ball along the laceration on Miyuki's face. Miyuki's eye twitched a few times but otherwise showed no visible reaction. Just by watching, Eijun could feel his own wounds sting with phantom pains. At his question, however, the corner of Miyuki's mouth, from what Eijun could see, curved slightly upward.

"Well," Akanishi hummed, taking the roll of bandage the nurse offered, and carefully measured out a length by holding it up near the wound. When she deemed it good, the nurse cut where she indicated, "I think it may be difficult to program a second remote for this T.V. Besides," Akanishi delicately held the bandage in place while the nurse lay the edges flat with tape, "it'll probably cause more arguments than it's worth, don't you think?"

Briefly, Eijun almost considered making a joke about getting his own room, however, on the off chance Akanishi would take it seriously, and actually move him out, he quickly snapped his mouth shut. Even as a joke, Eijun would be devastated being separated from Miyuki now. He wanted to be able to see with his own eyes how Miyuki was doing; needed the reminder that he was alive anytime Eijun woke up in a cold sweat, from a dream where they don't survive.

Akanishi finished redressing Miyuki's face, moving down to unwind the bindings that covered his wrists and palms to give them the same treatment, "The area is still very red," she said, bringing Miyuki's hand up for a closer inspection of his palm, "but the scabbing isn't looking as bad," she rotated his hand in several directions for different angles, "We'll have to keep an eye on it to make sure the infection doesn't persist. I may up your antibiotics just to be on the safe side." Akanishi expertly banded fresh bandages around his wrists and hands and continued down to his ankles.

Finally, after she completed Miyuki, it's Eijun's turn. The nurse wheeled the cart to the side of his bed while Akanishi fiddled with Miyuki's IV, presumably, to give him some pain relief now that everything had been agitated anew. Unfortunately, however, the process for Eijun took longer as she would test for nerve damage across his back at the same time.

Eijun groaned once Akanishi turned towards him. He pushed himself up into a seated position to give her the room she would need to unwrap the bandage from his torso. But first, she poked around his nose, and when he let out a pained gasp, she asked, "Still tender?"

"Yep, still tender." he grit out on a breathy exhale.

"The swelling has gone down quite a bit," She added, seemingly moving on from Eijun's response. Eijun couldn't say he had been able to tell from his trips to the bathroom. Between the splint and splattering of bruising, it looked the same to him, though the swelling of his right eye receded enough that he could actually open it again; which was nice.

Akanishi lifted Eijun's wrist to unwind the bandage there. Eijun waited with bated breath for the stinging pain he knew was to come. And sure enough, once she dabbed the cotton ball onto one of the larger punctures created from the barbed wire, a shock of pain traveled up his arm. On instinct, Eijun nearly pulled his hand out of reach but refrained at the last second with only a twitch of his fingers. She swiftly finished one wrist, then moved to the other. When both were done, she moved lower, to peel away the bandages that covered the deep incisions above his knees. Unlike with his wrist, where she did them one at a time, for his knees, she exposed both at once.

She stared at the puffy redness of the lacerations, black stitching nearly lost amongst the swelling flesh around them. Eijun's own eyes were drawn to them as well, desensitized already after having seen them when they were freshly made. The original stitches had been pulled and replaced after the surgeons had cleaned the wound and properly sutured it with a straighter edge as opposed to the uneven work the kidnapper had done.

To Eijun's untrained eye, the wounds didn't look any better from yesterday; nor worse.

Eijun let out an involuntary hiss of pain as another cotton ball made contact, his entire body tensed up, toes curling as if to physically restrain himself from kicking out at the doctor. With each swipe, Eijun ground his teeth together, then moved on to bite the inside of his cheek to use that bit of pain in an attempt to counterbalance the burning sensation traveling up his thigh. Not that it helped. After Akanishi completed the abuse on one leg, she circled the bed for better access to the other.

By the time both his legs were cleaned and redressed, Eijun was already feeling nauseous and they hadn't even begun on his back.

The nurse untied the gown and helped slide the sleeves off his arms, which left him in nothing but the hospital underwear they eventually gave him. They weren't a pair Eijun would actively choose to wear, as they weren't very flattering with their diaper-esque appearance, however, it was underwear nonetheless. He was jealous of Miyuki, who got to wear actual pants and a shirt, but Akanishi told him the gown gave them easier access to his back and knees. Fair point, but didn't change Eijun's stance that he would also prefer pants and a shirt; would even be willing to take them off and on each day without their assistance. His argument fell on deaf ears.

Once the gown had been removed and folded off to the side, the nurse unwound the bandages around his torso, then assisted Eijun in flipping onto his stomach. Now that his legs had been agitated, movement from them had grown stiff. It didn't help that he had to lay on top of them, but soon he'd forget that pain once Akanishi began on his back. The pillows had been moved to allow Eijun to lay completely flat, only using his hands laced together underneath his chin as a headrest. He thought about closing his eyes, but that would authorize his brain to show him images from his time in that basement. He kept them resolutely open, staring at the headboard and through the small gap that exposed the wall.

"Let me know if you feel anything," Akanishi reminded.

She allotted Eijun at least five seconds of anticipation, before he felt the barest pin-prick of pain on the back of his left shoulder, "Ow," he said; monotone. A brief pause and he felt it again, but slightly lower, "Ow." Another on his right shoulder, "Ow."

And so it went. Akanishi would use a thin needle to poke at several locations, and whenever Eijun felt them, he'd reply. The pain wasn't awful until she got too close to one of the raw stripes across his back, in which case, his response was vastly different compared to his previous flat exclamations.

She continued across the span of his back without a word, until she paused and said, "No different from yesterday," Eijun released a quiet sigh, already knowing where she was going, "Still nothing whenever I get to the center of your back. Though that's also where the damage is the heaviest, so no surprise. But there's still time, however, for the nerves to heal. Right now, it's hard to say whether or not they'll be able to heal completely, which means it's possible you may regain some sensation at least."

"So future massages will be pointless; noted," Eijun mumbled into the back of his hand.

"Not necessarily, as massages are for the muscles, you just won't feel a majority of it. They'll still help reduce tension and work out knots." As Akanishi said this, Eijun could hear her rummage around the tray on top of the cart. His least favorite part was coming.

"Hmm. Good to know." It was hard for him to not feel annoyance whenever the topic of nerve damage in his back came up. He couldn't blame Akanishi, however, he also couldn't help but almost take it out on her. He tended to get standoffish with her or overly sarcastic. Eijun consciously had to rein himself in whenever he found it beginning to happen.

Like now, for instance.

Eijun bit down on his bottom lip, practically physically restraining himself from saying anything else. Akanishi never acknowledged his little outbursts, always responding with the same tone she would for anything else. And honestly, it just made Eijun feel more guilty and would tell himself he won't allow it to happen again, with no success as of yet.

"Breathe," She said, just seconds before a bright hot pain shot across his back. Eijun's fingers dug into the thin sheet stretched over the mattress, tension straining his muscles. And what did he do? Not breathe; in fact, he had to make a conscious effort to suck in a lung full of air, only to have it whoosh out as Akasishi moved to another spot, and ignited pain there, too.

Slowly, it felt as if his mind began to stray, vision blurring until the headboard faded to be replaced with the cement floor he had grown accustomed to. Eijun was unable to focus on anything other than the stinging ache along his back, body frozen in fear. He bit down onto the back of his hand to hold in any vocal outcries that might slip out. And maybe it would help keep anything from coming up, as his stomach rolled painfully with his fast-building anxiety.

He squeezed his eyes shut, as a little voice in the back of his mind attempted to tell him that he was no longer in the basement, that he was safe in a hospital receiving treatment. But of course, each flare of pain pushed that voice further away. The process cycled through many times with varying degrees of success. It wasn't until a very familiar tune infiltrated his brain, distantly at first, but it had given Eijun something new to focus on other than the pain and muted voice. The more he listened, the louder, and clearer it became until he began to sing along to it under his breath. The more tuned in he became with it, the more he recognized the jingle. It originated from an old toilet paper commercial that he had seen since he was a kid. The company would occasionally change the format of the commercial, but the song generally remained the same. It had always been one of those songs, that if one person began to sing it, people around could easily jump in and continue it.

Eijun continued to repeat the song quietly to himself, even when he no longer heard the music that accompanied it, until the pain faded out to a constant burning sensation as opposed to the immediate sting. The view of the basement slowly distorted with a hazy film, soon to be replaced with the headboard and white sheets once again. Eijun could hear the quiet arguments from the T.V and the metallic sound of metal on metal as Akanishi set something back onto her tray.

"Once I wrap this, I'll leave you alone," Akanishi said. She and the nurse assisted him in raising himself up on shaking arms; enough that they could get a roll of bandage underneath him, though it felt like too long before they let him flop down again. Akanishi pulled his blanket up, while the nurse handed him his pillow, which he quickly bunched up to shove his face into with a groan.

Akanishi fiddled with his IV, and shortly after, the pain receded to be an afterthought. Though, the exhaustion would only get worse; before the day was out, he'll be dead to the world once again. Each day, after the cleansing and changing of bandages, he was left mentally and physically drained, with not an ounce of energy to waste for the mundane; such as eating. Yet, he'll be woken up regardless, where he'll be forced to eat a rather bland bowl of porridge, usually three times a day. But at least he wouldn't be in pain. If it wasn't one thing, it was another; tired and nauseous, or aching and traumatized.

"I'll up your antibiotics, as well. The dosage you're on seems to be too low." Akanishi murmured, more to herself than anyone in particular. Then, Eijun felt a slight tap against the back of his neck, "How's this treating you?" Now, she directed the question towards Eijun; referring to the brand burned into the nape of his neck. Once he and Miyuki were coherent enough after the fact, they checked out the damage, only to find a puffy, raised bit of flesh in the shape of a V. Whatever that's supposed to mean or represent. However, compared to later injuries, the brand ended up being the least of their concerns, and honestly, half the time, Eijun forgot its existence.

Eijun grunted into the pillow. That's the best they're going to get from him right now. He's too tired, yet too afraid to allow himself to sleep, not when his brain was just off the cusp of a flashback. That's a recipe for nightmares, not that that had been the sole reason he's ever gotten them, but so far, that seems to give a higher probability. Ideally, he would prefer to get lost watching T.V until he falls asleep. Thankfully, the T.V was mounted near the corner of the room, so even on his stomach, Eijun could see the screen. Though his neck didn't appreciate being angled in one direction for long, and by the time he woke up, he typically regretted not sleeping on his side.

Akanishi appeared to accept his lack of verbal response as she and the nurse packed up their stuff and exited the room, dimming the lights on the way. Clearly, they know neither of them will be awake for much longer.

Youichi was nervous. He couldn't remember it ever being this nerve-wracking going to school. Even as a child, Youichi had never been on the verge of throwing up, just at the prospect of returning to a classroom. He had been the type to barge into the class and claim a seat towards the back without losing a wink of sleep the night before; unless he counted the late nights playing video games, but not from being overly worried.

But now, Youichi was concerned about how he should act, with the knowledge that everyone knew why he had been missing the past couple of months. The news had quite literally been everywhere once he, Kominato, and Furuya escaped, and only seemed to double once the media caught wind of Sawamura and Miyuki's return. According to the older Kominato, once their disappearance had been reported, without any traces coming up, the case was spread across Japan to reach a wider audience.

And apparently, after a while a lot of people speculated about their deaths; also of which, many of them seemed to have believed.

The spiteful part of Youichi was smug in that, they managed to prove those people wrong.

Youichi knew that his classmates would stare. They were all generally aware of what had happened, but Youichi also had visible evidence in the form of a mismatched patch of skin on one half of his face. Unlike the jagged scar along his abdomen, the burn across the side of his face wouldn't be something he could cover-up. Unless he got good with makeup, which he didn't plan on doing, as aesthetically, Youichi didn't care. He just didn't want people to stare at it, because he just knew there were people out there who wouldn't be able to suppress their curiosity and ask about it. Youichi could already envision people whispering about him when they thought he couldn't hear. It's high school, teens were incapable of avoiding gossip. And what better topic than a classmate that had been kidnapped and tortured, as opposed to who was dating who, or a student that was allegedly seen smoking out behind the school.

He was resigned to the fact that he'll spend the majority of his first few days back to school glaring people down whenever they get caught.

Youichi had purposefully dragged his feet getting ready for the day, strictly to avoid as many people as possible but to also limit the amount of free time between the last-minute bell and the teacher's arrival. The less time his classmates had to try and talk with him, the better. Unfortunately, his strategy was only good for the morning, and would still leave him open during break periods. He briefly contemplated escaping to the bathroom each time, but that sounded like a cowardly move.

Besides, he couldn't put it off forever. But he would delay it if he had the opportunity.

Just as planned, Youichi only passed a few stragglers on his way to class. A majority of them were distracted with their phones, friends, or were simply in a hurry to get to their own destination, and none appeared to have even noticed him. The moment of truth, however, came when he opened the door to his class, only to, quite literally, have everyone stop talking and turn towards him as soon as he stepped foot inside. He clenched his jaw, shoved his hands in his pockets, and headed straight for his desk, all while he resolutely refused to meet anyone's eyes as if it were a normal day.

Thankfully, their homeroom teacher followed shortly after, forcing everyone to turn their attention to him, and away from Youichi. And only then, did he unclench his jaw with a quiet sigh, the rest of him, however, remained tense. He half expected the teacher to make a big deal out of his return, and was relieved when he went straight into his lesson after a quick comment to remind the class to remain silent.

After several minutes of listening to the teacher drone on, a lot of which, Youichi struggled to focus on, he heard faint whispers from somewhere behind him, nothing he could discern though. He had to quickly remind himself that it may have absolutely nothing to do with him, that it was all in his head since he was overly aware of everything around him. But now, the whispers were the only thing he could focus on, as his ears struggled to pick out any words that may relate to Youichi or his situation, just to give him peace of mind to know whether or not they were talking about him.

Every couple of minutes, he had to fight down the urge to turn around to at least get an idea of who it could be, but there was no way to do that discreetly. And really, he didn't need to draw any more attention to himself than his mere presence already had. Regardless, it was irking to not know, because, at this point, he's tempted to straight-up ask them if they had anything to say, and maybe, he would even bother to answer them. Most likely not, but who knows; it depended on what they wanted to know.

Homeroom flew by, with Youichi barely catching a word the teacher said with the way his mind strayed towards the whispers, the people that sent brief glances his way, or how Kominato and Furuya were holding up. If they were struggling to reacclimate as much as he was.

The mathematics teacher wandered in shortly after. Her gaze fell upon Youichi for a fleeting moment, and she just as quickly looked away to jump straight into her lesson plan. This time, Youichi didn't have a chance for his mind to wander. While he had gone over a synopsis of what he had missed, as well as finished the make-up work, it still took all of his concentration to even hope to follow along. While he vaguely recognized some of the terms she used, they weren't familiar enough to him to instantly connect them with her demonstrations.

Afterward, they are tasked to solve ten problems out of the book on their own for the duration of the class. Youichi spent a good chunk of time staring blankly at the book, the equations, and images may as well have been hieroglyphics as they made absolutely no sense. Eventually, he flipped back a few pages to skim through some definitions and glanced at previous examples. While that helped a little, he still felt completely lost.

The teacher either noticed his struggle or remembered he missed a couple of months' worth of material, as she appeared at his side, to quietly inquire if he needed help. At first, he nearly blurted out he was fine, that he'll try on his own, but sucked up his pride and mild embarrassment to accept. She spent nearly the rest of the period re-explaining the lesson as well as the ones that led up to the current curriculum. All the while he felt eyes burning into his back.

In the end, he didn't finish the assignment and was tasked to give them a try after school.

Then finally, what he had been dreading, the first break began. His classmates instantly stood up to mingle with friends or disappear into the hall. Youichi remained seated, all while he debated on whether or not he should leave or pretend like he was busy. He soon settled for pulling out his phone to see if anyone had messaged him. Youichi hadn't been expecting any other than his mom since the only other people who would text him were also in their respective classes, while he wasn't surprised to see several from his mom, it was unexpected to see multiple from a handful of his teammates. A majority of their messages were encouraging and were probably supposed to be motivational, but they mainly caused Youichi to snort.

However, he did receive a text from the older Kominato, that asked how his first day back was going. That had Youichi pause, as he actually stopped to consider how it had been so far. He typed and retyped a response several times before he settled on exhausting.

And of course, as soon as he hit send, a shadow fell over him, making him jump in surprise and quickly glance up. One of his classmates, Ichihara Nariaki, stood next to his desk. Youichi never really spoke with Ichihara as they didn't run with the same crowd, so Youichi never thought one way or another about him, but he was quickly beginning to reconsider. From what little Youichi recalled about him, Ichihara was rather diligent and tended to hang out with the other popular kids, though he was never considered to be prominent within his group; more of a tag-along from what Youichi had observed. Part of the posse, but not the lead.

"So," Ichihara began, "What was it like?" As soon as the words were out, everyone that was left in the classroom seemed to fall silent; Whether they were waiting for a fight, or they were also wanting an answer, Youichi couldn't say for sure; but he let Ichihara stand in silence while Youichi stared, keeping his face carefully blank.

It didn't take long before Ichihara began to squirm, eyes swiftly darting around as if he were searching for an escape, but now Youichi didn't want to give him one, "What do you think?" He shot back, raising a brow in challenge.

Youichi watched with mild amusement as Ichihara's mouth opened and closed several times, clearly he hadn't expected that response, "W-well, that's why I asked you." Youichi would bet good money that Ichihara hadn't thought ahead on how this interaction would play out. He approached Youichi with all the confidence he had, but now that he realized he wouldn't get an easy response, he became hesitant and avoided direct eye contact.

Youichi audibly sighed as he inwardly debated how he wanted to go about this. He could let Ichihara off easy by giving him an out before sending him on his merry way, but then Youichi decided he didn't give a fuck. He pushed himself to his feet, a hand gripped tight on the back of his chair for support, abdomen protesting the sudden change. Youichi stood mere inches in front of Ichihara before Ichihara took an uncertain step back, putting a little more distance between them. Unfortunately, they're roughly the same height, so Youichi couldn't really tower over him, but that never stopped him in the past.

In a flat voice, Youichi said, "Have you ever been stabbed, Ichihara?" At that, Ichihara's eyes widened and snapped to Youichi's face, "Cause it sounds like you're curious to know what it's like, and I'm willing to share that experience with you." He finished it off with a smile as he watched Ichihara's face grow pale. They silently stared at each other before Ichihara made a hasty retreat into the hall. Not soon after the warning bell dinged, and Ichihara slinked back in, gaze fixed to the floor as he returned to his seat.

Youichi lowered himself back into his chair with a resignated sigh. It was going to be a long day.