I've had this particular scene in mind for a long time, but I never had an excuse to write it out until now.
This chapter brought to you by Breaking Benjamin's song "Water."
-Nir
As Isane had promised, Hanatarou was given the best care available for someone in his condition. He was to be fed intravenously and bathed every few days. Precautions would be taken to prevent him from forming pressure ulcers on his skin. Acupuncture could be employed eventually to keep his muscles from wasting away. 4th Squad had only treated a handful of coma patience in the many centuries they'd been in operation, but they were just as efficient and complete in it as they were in the rest of their duties.
--
It had come to Hisa's attention that its master was miserable. For someone like him, whose greatest joy was to serve others, knowing that his body was simply laying about, a burden for others to worry over and take care of… why, it must have been torturous for him. He was in dire need of some sort of distraction, and Hisa knew exactly what would fulfill that need.
Hana would teach himself to swim.
Growing up in Rukon, there had been no bodies of water nearby appropriate for swimming, so Hanatarou had never had a reason to learn. In fact, he was quite frightened of deep water as any non-swimmer would be. Most of the water in Hisa's lake seemed to hang over a black void, but there were areas around the islands that were shallow enough to stand on.
Hisa presented this fact to Hanatarou after the initial suggestion that he should try to teach himself, plus the idea that it was excellent exercise and that it would distract him from his melancholy situation. The idea was turned down until Hisa offered that the flat stepping stones connecting the islands had no such shallows around them, and that if Hanatarou slipped and fell from their slick surface as he was wont to do, he would without a doubt drown, and he didn't want to stay on one small island for the entire time did he? Hanatarou asked it what would happen if he died here, and Hisa answered that it didn't know but it imagined he would either die in the real world as well, or never wake up.
Now Hanatarou stood on the shore of the tiny island, naked and trembling, his goose-pimpled arms crossed over his narrow chest, prepared to step into a basin as cold and lifeless as the moon. The water's chill was enough to make him grit his teeth as he waded in, feeling it slide over his knees, his waist, his belly. He'd expected to feel a layer of silt on the bottom, but there was none. Of course not. This place had no soil. The plants grew inexplicably on top of the rocks.
Hisa trotted just in front of him, occasionally disappearing behind fog banks. It was nimble for such a plump creature. By now the island was out of sight, and the surface of the lake was just touching Hanatarou's chin. He stopped, certain that he was in deep enough by now. The water was stunningly clear. He could see his bluish toes in perfect detail, and he wondered if it was possible to develop hypothermia in this place.
During the momentary pause Hisa had continued moving so that it too was hidden behind an opaque screen of fog. "Hanaaa…" It called softly, jerking his attention away from his numb extremities. "I did not say to stop, Hanaaa… Do you want this or not…?"
Hanatarou was beginning to wonder that himself. By now his mouth was submerged. The water had a very slightly metallic taste that he found familiar and not all that pleasant. "Hisa…" He gasped, straining to keep his head on the surface. "Could you… could you please come back? I can't even see you…"
"Haaaanaaaa…" The spirit's haunting voice seemed to come from all around him, its acoustics warped and eerie. Hanatarou turned on the spot, searching for its source. The cold was making him sluggish. It was difficult to concentrate. "Come oooon, Hanaaaa…"
Numbly he stumbled after the sound, the only one to be heard in this gray purgatory besides his own panted breaths and the sloshing of the icy water. Suddenly his foot caught the edge of the island's shelf and he slipped underwater, exhaling a cloud of bubbles in shock as his head went under. In the moment that his eyes were open he had the impression of an infinitely dark pit and his pale arms in front of him flailing pathetically against the abyss. In blind terror he clawed the water, seeking the secure solidness of the ground, just as he had before he'd plummeted over the side of the cliff nearly a month ago. One of his heels scraped the ledge and he flung himself backwards, forcing his cold-deadened limbs into action.
Unbelievable relief as he got both feet back on the rocky shelf. He felt lightheaded now as well as numb to the core. He needed to breathe. Air was only a few feet above his head. He straightened up, only to spew out more of precious air supply when his head collided with something solid. The sting managed to penetrate through the numbness.
Ice. A layer of ice, inches thick. It had not been there before, but it was there now, and Hanatarou was trapped in the airless, lifeless void of the lake. Unable to help it, he panicked again, hammering at the ice with his fists, pressing his shoulders against it until he no longer had the strength to lift his arms. Above him the ice grew dark and he thought he was blacking out, but then he recognized its shape. A round head on a round body, with two small pointed ears and a long tail curled loosely behind it.
Hisa he mouthed, pressing a trembling hand against the silhouette. It simply tilted its head as if curious, as if wondering how he'd managed to get himself into trouble again, and contemplating the scolding it would give him later. Now the darkening was at the corners of his vision, and the shadow spread until he could see nothing else.
--
A frail murmur, accompanied by the slightest shifting movement. Isane glanced down at the limp figure in her arms. She'd been in the process of turning him over, just as she'd done two hours ago, and she would do again in two more. It was a tiresome process, partly because she was one of the few left who cared enough to make the effort. In the beginning those assigned to the care of 4th Squad's only coma patient had been diligent in their responsibilities, but after only a month… well, here she was, and had been, and would be.
"Hanatarou…" She whispered, leaning closer to him. His normally serene expression had been replaced by one of anxiety, as if he were in the middle of a nightmare. It was the first sign of life he'd shown since he'd been brought there, and if there was any chance that he might actually be waking up…
But no. A moment later he was as he had been before, dead to the outside world. She sighed and placed him back in the bed, replacing the blankets neatly. As an afterthought she spread an extra comforter overtop him. He'd felt awfully cold just then.
--
"Do not despair, Hanaaa... You did poorly your first time, but there will be other chances... I am doing this for you. Remember that. We will try again... tomorrow."