Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis
Chapter 10
The Lies We Tell Ourselves
When Kikumaru Reina had been pulled out of school that day by her distraught mother, she hadn't known what to think. Their family had always been a bit dramatic, overly emotional, but today felt different.
"Mom," She whispered, unsure. "What happened? Where are we going?"
Her mom didn't answer, knuckles turning white against the steering wheel.
"You're scaring me, mom," She tried again, ignoring the way her heart sped up, anxiety racing through her veins. It felt like an eternity before the silence broke.
"We're meeting your father at the hospital," The word's sounded tight, "Your brother has been in an accident."
Her brother.
Given that Eiji was the only other sibling not in the car, she quickly deduced who her mom had been talking about.
Her youngest brother. Her tennis obsessed, adorable, younger brother. It was not unusual for Eiji to end up hospitalized with some bizarre tennis injury. In fact, it was quite common. Yet, something about today felt different. She didn't voice this thought.
When they pulled up to the hospital, it was glaring evident that something terrible had taken place. Sirens sounded in a continuous cry, seemingly echoing the state within the hospital. The emergency room was packed with families, all panic-stricken, all desperate.
Her mother ushered her and her siblings into some empty seats, before joining the line-up on the other side of the room. Another restless body, another pair of hollow eyes.
As her eyes turned to the television in the corner of the room, the pieces of the missing puzzle began to slowly come together. Like a hammer to the chest, she gasped. A train had derailed.
Her brother's train had derailed.
Arms wrapped around her. Her father had arrived, face heavy with worry as he gazed down at his children. They were safe. Yet, it felt as if their world was slowly shattering, slicing through their skin from the inside out.
"He'll be okay," Her father didn't sound convinced. He sounded scared. She was also scared.
"Your mom says that he's been found," Her father continued, voice wavering. "The doctors are prepping him for surgery."
Across the waiting room, people young and old filed in a continuous stream in and out of the hospital. It wasn't until the clock showed midnight that the room slowly began to empty out. The newfound silence was suffocating. She didn't know which was worse, the silence or the endless cries of people who had lost loved ones throughout the day. Both were reminders of her brother, of his surgery, of the thought that she might never see him again.
At what time she fell asleep, she wasn't sure. However, the next thing she knew, she had been woken by the strong hands of her father shaking her, helping her to her feet, dragging her deeper into the hospital. The iridescent lighting felt too bright, like the glow from a lighthouse warning sailors away, as if it were warning her to turn back.
As they reached her brother's room, they were given no rest before being ushered inside. It felt less scary than she had anticipated. Instead, she felt a strange sense of nothingness at the sight of her brother wrapped under a layer of blankets. His red hair was a vivid mess against the bloodless sheen of his face. His visible skin was littered with bandages and what was left uncovered had started to turn a sickening red or purple.
"My boy," Her mother rushed forward, finger's instinctively wrapping around her son's limp hand. "My darling, beautiful boy."
Reina hung back as the rest of her family rushed forward, immense relief transparent upon their faces.
He's alive.
Guilt welled inside of her as she was suddenly all too aware of how lucky their family had been. Her brother had survived, but how many people's family members had not? How many others had lost brothers, sisters, mothers, or fathers? What had they ever done to be this fortunate?
Tears welled in her eyes. She didn't understand why couldn't bring herself to feel happy. She should be overjoyed. Eiji was alive, beaten, but alive. Yet the thought remained stuck like glue on her skin.
Why us?
….
Eiji remained unconscious for the next three days.
Until suddenly he woke up.
They had returned to find him staring blankly up at the ceiling. Unmoving. Silent.
The sound of her mother shouting for a doctor felt oddly distant, and it wasn't until she was gently pushed out of the way by an orderly that her daze broke.
For the first time since her brother's surgery, she felt as if the blanket that had been repressing her emotions had been lifted. She smiled, unable to contain her joy.
Her brother was alive.
I'm alive.
The thought ran through his head over and over, repeating like a broken record.
Alivealivealivealive
His hands clenched into fists, muscles tense. The buzzing of the ceiling lights filled his ears, goosebumps rising along his skin. The world around him shifted suddenly, bringing him back to the train ride, before throwing him back to the present. His heart rate spiked. His breathing quickened.
The doctor had told him that the flashbacks were to be expected given what he had gone through. Yet, it had already been a week. Seven days of being stuck in this hospital bed, stuck on the train, endlessly reliving the crash. Over, and over, and over, until he felt like he could scream.
His family had visited every day since he had woken. They stayed for hours at a time, but he could hardly remember a word of their visits. Their voices felt far away, out of reach.
He felt numb; a symptom of his neck fracture the doctor had told him. Apparently, he had been lucky the fracture had not damaged his spinal cord.
Lucky.
Eiji wanted to cry. For seven days he had been confined to his cage of a bed and forced to stare at the bleakness of his ceiling. His parents had refused to tell him what had happened to his teammates, insisting he shouldn't worry. Eiji knew they were just being selfish by prioritizing his recovery over his wants.
Another week went by with no news.
Just as he was about to reach his breaking point, his door opened and Tezuka walked in.
"Buchou," He whispered, ignoring the constant itch that had settled itself between his neck and the brace he had been forced to wear.
"Kikumaru," Tezuka nodded, eyes stony.
Eiji belated wondered if his parents knew that his teammate was here. Probably not, he decided. Tezuka took a seat in the chair at the end of the bed. Their eyes met, unspoken relief flashing between the two.
"Please," Eiji broke the silence first. He didn't elaborate, but by the look in Tezuka's eyes, Eiji knew he had understood.
"I'm sorry, not all of the team made it," Tezuka began, sounding very much like he would rather not continue.
"Who," Eiji hadn't been prepared for the sudden hysteria that assaulted him. He had known it would be unlikely for everyone to have survived the crash, but it felt different to hear it spoken aloud. "Who didn't make it!"
"Inui and Kaidoh died at the scene."
There it was.
"Fuji passed on the way to the hospital."
Suddenly Eiji regretted asking.
"Oishi died in surgery."
No.
Please no.
"The others? They're okay?" His voice sounded weak, even to his own ears. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he did nothing to stop them from falling.
Tezuka nodded wordlessly. "Yes."
Something in their captain's eyes told Eiji that he wasn't being told the full truth. His stomach lurched as dread settled like a rock in his gut. "What aren't you telling me."
Hesitation briefly flashed in Tezuka's eyes, before acceptance prevailed. "Echizen is alive, but his condition is unstable. Currently, he's in a coma, but the doctors are uncertain when or if he will wake up."
All too suddenly, Eiji felt his exhaustion, his grief, his guilt as it began to overpower him. It swelled to a boiling point. Every past moment of regret bubbled to the surface and it felt as if someone was ripping his heart apart, piece by piece.
He screamed, and screamed, and screamed, until his voice refused to continue. Tears fell in a steady stream down the sides of his face, soaking his pillow. His breath came in racking sobs.
They're gone.
They're all gone.
It only took a second for the realization to hit him like the train had hit the pavement - It was all his fault.
He knew, knew something terrible would happen that day. Yet he had shrugged it off. How could he have been so stupid? He should have done something. Tracked Fuji down on the train, told Oishi to stay down, protected Echizen.
Echizen.
Ochibi was only twelve, a child.
How could he have let this happen?
He was broken from his revere by Tezuka rising to his feet. "I'm being discharged today. Please call if you need anything."
Eiji couldn't bring himself to reply. Instead, he just nodded wordlessly. It felt unusual to think of calling Tezuka. It was Oishi that he usually called when upset. Or Fuji. Never Tezuka. But they're gone and it was all because of him.
I should have died.
Later that day when Reina entered her brother's hospital room, it became immediately apparent he had been crying. His eyes were an ugly swollen red. They stared blankly up at the ceiling, but unlike before, they felt hauntingly empty.
"Eiji?" She called, uncertain.
"Go away."
His voice sounded strained.
"Brother?" She tried again. "What happened?"
"Please go away."
Instead of leaving, she sat herself on the edge of his hospital bed, wrapping her hand around his. "It's okay. You're okay."
That was all it took for the dam to break. Tears streamed from her brother's already scarlet eyes. "They're dead."
"It's okay," She repeated, abruptly aware that someone must have told him of his teammates. A secret their parents had wanted to keep hidden for as long as possible.
"It should have been me."
Her breath hitched at her brother's words.
"You're okay," The words were meant to convince her brother of this, as much as they were meant to convince herself.
"You'll be okay. It will all be okay."
A/N
Damn, that was depressing to write. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you thought.