When he woke up some few hours later, Kamijou's head felt like it was stuffed to the brim with the Kevlar helmet his investigating team sometimes used when they hit the field. He struggled to remember where he was. There was a low drone of voices off in the distance and the slightly acrid scent of antiseptic burning in his nose. His body felt sluggish, heavy, especially his right leg, and he couldn't move it at all. He swallowed, and immediately regretted it as sharp, abrasive pain ran down his throat. Though his eyelids felt like they were weighted down by rocks, he managed to pry them open. An unfamiliar ceiling stared back at him. Frowning, he turned his head and saw the I.V. line running from his arm to the pump beside his bed. Like a camera reel running backward, all of the images from earlier in the day flooded his mind and he remembered everything.
To cut the story short, the surgery had been a success as his leg has been stitched back at least of its original position. He had come out of the anesthesia long enough for the surgeon to give him the good news. Afterward, the nurses wouldn't let him leave the recovery room until he drank some fluids and went to the bathroom. That just might have been more embarrassing than having Fukiyose Seiri see his long sausage, pissing into a bedpan with the two nurses smiling and chattering away the whole time. Luckily, he was still drowsy enough from the anesthesia and painkillers that he had passed out again soon after. They must have brought him to this room when he was asleep then. Actually, sleep sounded really good at that moment, even though he had had just woken up, and he let himself drift off again.
By the time the Forehead Deluxe made it to his room, Kamijou was awake again, cranky, sore and very hungry. Apparently, he had missed dinner while he was off counting sheep somewhere in his imaginary world. He had the bed adjusted to a sitting position and was glaring at the door, waiting.
"So, how are we feeling, Kamijou Touma?" Fukiyose asked routinely, flipping through Kamijou's chart as she walked to the foot of the bed. Her scrubs from earlier were gone, replaced by black jeans and a light green sleeveless blouse. The white coat was still there, however. She looked elegant and imposing as her slim and sexy figure was more evident under her clothes. Kamijou felt both better and worse at the same time just from seeing her megane face and free-flowing hair.
"Unless you happened to have just had someone cut you open and shove a long metal rod into your leg, then we aren't feeling anything," Kamijou bit out sarcastically, aggravated that he was even checking Fukiyose out. "I, however, did just have that done and I feel like warmed over shit."
Pushing up her glasses, Fukiyose felt like she was being violated and jotted something down on the chart. "Apparently, you are feeling pugnacious, childish, and strong enough to bellow like a bull without a common sense."
"Dammit, do you insult all your patients like that, Fukiyose?"
"Only the deserving ones," The response was said blandly and without inflection, "In your case, I needed to be much iron-fisted since you can be a madman when left alone…"
"I'll sue you for malpractice," Kamijou muttered darkly.
Fukiyose looked up from the chart and grinned rather cutely and sadistically at the same time, "You'll have to learn how to spell it first."
Kamijou wanted nothing more than to leap out of the bed and strangle that dark-haired, chocolate-eyed, model-like former classmate of his, "Argh! I can't believe you are treating poor Kamijou-san like this! I had to pee in a bedpan, Fukiyose. In a bedpan! In front of two hot, young women with busts that aren't as large as yours but still big enough to be bouncy!" He exploded, the initial crux of his frustration and foul mood spilling out. He couldn't very well yell at Fukiyose for turning into an even prettier, attractive woman than when Kamijou knew her before at their school.
Blinking before sighing, Fukiyose set the chart down and pulled out her stethoscope. "That's their job, Kamijou idiot. They see men excrete into bedpans all the time. It's no big deal. You shouldn't overreact with trivial stuff like that."
"Well, they don't see me! And don't say excrete, it doesn't sound so nice here."
Huffing, Fukiyose came around to Kamijou's side and made him shut up so she could listen to his heart and lungs with the stethoscope. Afterward, she picked up Kamijou's wrist to measure his pulse rate. Once that was all done, she scribbled some more notes on the chart.
"All your vitals are normal, which is good for an abominable man like you," She declared once she finished writing. "How is the leg feeling?"
"It still aches but the pain killers take the edge off," Kamijou answered honestly.
"I see. What about elsewhere? Any discomfort or pain anywhere other than the leg?"
"My throat kind of hurts. I'm not sure why though."
Fukiyose reached out, her soft and somewhat ticklish hands gently prodding and testing the area up and down Kamijou's neck. His fingers were smooth, soft, but very strong in frip. It was a little perplexing, and to be touched so intimately by those fingers of hers, it was inching close to arousal. "I don't feel anything, idiot," She pulled back with a shake of her head. "It's probably from the air tube you had down your throat during the operation. The irritation should disperse in a day. Any other problems?"
"Yeah," Kamijou glanced up, putting the somewhat touchy and vibrating sensations of Fukiyose's fingers on him out of his mind.
"And?" The question had a tone of annoyance.
"I'm hungry. Please, feed Kamijou-san," It was the whine of a petulant child similar to a certain silver-haired nun but Kamijou couldn't help it. He was freaking starving as the rumbling in his stomach momentarily erased his perverted thoughts and feelings.
"That's not an ailment, you idiot!" Fukiyose was tempted to slug his face with her fists.
"Tell that to my stomach! Bring your stethoscope back over here and listen to the horrible sounds it's making and then try saying it's not an ailment for someone who doesn't always have time to eat lunch due to work load," Kamijou leaned up and grabbed the medical device still hanging from the Iron Wall Girl's neck. He yanked, but with the stethoscope came the Forehead Deluxe crashing down. She stumbled, falling over Kamijou and landing on the police officer's chest with a profound thud. It jarred his leg a little and he hissed, but something immediately distracted him.
Fukiyose Seiri smelled wonderful.
A light, woodsy scent that made Kamijou think of the outdoors and snuggling up next to a crackling campfire. Of course, the partner in this little fantasy suddenly sported thick-framed glasses and beautiful chestnut eyes. But it wasn't just the aroma of her cologne that caught Kamijou's attention. There was something else there, something sweet, something tempting, something that made his stomach growl even louder.
"Wha-What are you doing, you moron?!" Fukiyose headbutted the young man before she placed her palms flat on the bed and pushed herself up so he was hovering over but no longer lying on top of Kamijou.
For his part, Kamijou didn't even flinch on the incoming forehead of the young woman and stuck his nose in Fukiyose's neck and inhaled. "I smell it," He growled low in his throat.
Fukiyose's arms and stomach tensed. "Smell what? Why are you sniffing me like you're a stray dog lost from the streets?!"
"Chocolate, damn you! You have chocolate! Here I am, on the brink of starvation, and you have chocolate!" Kamijou roared back and cyan eyes collided with brown eyes as he hurled the accusation, "How can you be so cruel, Fukiyose?! Or better yet, why are you eating chocolate?! This is the first time I see you eating that dessert!"
"W-what, don't be absurd, Kamijou-baka! Chocolate is for other people who don't have any kind of urgency with taking care of themselves and children who are naughty. I never eat that junk food! And you certainly aren't on the verge of starving so stop exaggerating," Fukiyose denied Kamijou's allegation snobbishly but he dropped his gaze, staring at Kamijou's throat instead.
Kamijou's own eyes fell and he was suddenly swiping his thumb over the corner of a stunned Fukiyose's lips. He pulled it away, holding it up triumphantly. "Doesn't eat chocolate, my ass! Then what's this?!" He pushed his thumb into Fukiyose's face, so close that the Iron Wall Girl's eyes were almost crossing trying look at it.
"I don't know! That might be just a speck of green coffee that even I drank this morning or something. Really, who goes around wiping other people's lips? You are a total barbarian, a pervert, and a total imbecile! Are police officers really act like you?!"
Flicking out his tongue, Kamijou licked the tiny dot away, no matter how disgusting it may sound. A hint of Fukiyose's sweet flavor came through, and Kamijou savored the taste, like it is his last.
"It is chocolate, Fukiyose!" He cried and before the nurse can even react, he began running his hands over Fukiyose's slim body, examining every nook and cranny, and rifling through every pocket he could find. His hunger edged out his sexual desire, which was actually good because if it had been any other time and he was touching Fukiyose like this, he certainly wouldn't be able to keep concealing his attraction as well as suppress down his perverted dreams.
"Quit groping me, you depraved idiot!" Fukiyose tried to bat his hands away, but she was careful not to use too much force as she is always mindful of Kamijou's injured leg and the I.V. in his arm.
Finally, Kamijou had pulled out a half-eaten Tobleron bar, carefully wrapped in thick paper and foil, from inside Fukiyose's right coat pocket. Crying in victory, he tore the paper off and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, unmindful of the stares he was receiving from doctors passing by. Filling up his stomach is much more important right now.
"I see your that you have descended even lower from a perverted lolicon to a depraved police officer desperate to steal anything from respected professionals like me," the brown-eyed doctor lifted herself off the bed with a defeated sigh. "Just don't tell anyone that I…sometimes secretly absorb a little piece of chocolate or two, alright. It could ruin my reputation in front of my fellow doctors and nurses. And most especially don't tell this to your two other idiotic friends…"
"Your reputation as what? An uptight, health-obsessed woman with a cold-blooded hard ass whenever she acts as if she's the sensei?" Kamijou mumbled, happily licking chocolate from his fingers.
"Quite accurate, though it sounds wrong coming from your mouth," Fukiyose straightened her tank top and smoothed down her long hair. "Anyway, I have other patients to see. I will check on you again tomorrow. Please don't wreck the hospital before then or else, we'll have to bill even the National Police Agency."
"I won't. I'm too weak to do anything but lie here pathetically anyway," Kamijou slumped down grumpily against the mountain of pillows. "That little piece of chocolate couldn't even qualify as a light snack, to be honest. I'll most likely be dead by morning. When my security unit of the NPA comes to claim my body, please tell them to seek revenge on that damn Tora-neko-chan or I will haunt them forever in their dreams."
Ignoring his own drama, Fukiyose picked up Kamijou's chart and headed for the door. She had his fingers on the handle when Kamijou spoke again, his words slurring a little, an indication that the morphine drip in his I.V. had kicked in again.
"Hey, Fukiyose. You know what?"
"What now?" She didn't turn around, just called back over her shoulder in annoyance.
"I didn't mean to say that you're ugly when I said "megane face." It's not. Actually, it's so pretty because it perfectly fits you," Kamijou honestly let out his opinion, "Always thought so. And, also, your lips just now were a lot softer than they look. Warm, even. I always figured they would be cold, like everything that comes out of your mouth whenever you love disciplining us. Guess I judged you too much before. Maybe if you can stop being so uptight and show your genuine traits, then I guess you could qualify as a good wife. Funny, huh?"
A heavy hesitation filled the air as Fukiyose let those words sink in in her mind. Then she let out a breath. "Go to sleep, Bakamijou. You won't remember any of this in the morning because of the drugs..."
"I'll remember. It's my duty now as a policeman," Kamijou Touma replied in an almost sing-song voice. "I'll remember Fukiyose-sama with her shining eyes like the color of the sweet Chocolate hills I visited once when my unit had a joint training exercise with the Philippine National Police and beautiful dark hair and soft, caramel-like lips. I'll remember…zzzzzzz"
"No you won't, idiot Kamijou," Fukiyose Seiri whispered as she left the room, flipping off the light and quietly shutting the door behind her.
"Aww shit, I forgot to visit Kami-cchi…"
Kinshiro Toyama sighed as he just finished making a report about a recent drug bust in Shizuoka where the presence of National Police Agency agents was asked.
"Well, I'll make it up to him, sometimes…"
Two individuals sit in a bench not far from where the hospital was standing.
"Neh, what are you doing here, Short Hair?"
"And just what are you doing here, Silver Sister?"
"I came back from my investiture rites in England. You?"
"Nothing much. I came to visit that idiot. I guess we should go together to where he is, right now."
"Then you know what his job is?"
"I had my own suspicions although he didn't tell me. But that doesn't mean I won't find out."
There were shots of electricity engulfing the two of them.
"And when I do find out, I just have to shock him in punishment…"