Sanji stood at the end of the bed with an unlit cigarette bit between his teeth, glancing down at the green-haired guy slumbering away. His chest barely moved, and if you weren't looking, you could swear he was dead. But he was alive, or barely, as the steady and constant beeping of the life-support machine beside him showed.
Sanji reached for the clipboard hanging off the edge of the bed. He really shouldn't be snooping around like this. But after waking up, all Sanji could think about was the bloodied man in his dream and this guy. The two were obviously the same person.
He was just glad he'd woken up alone. Hopefully the girls had gone home, he didn't know how he could face them after displaying such a pathetic show as passing out in the corridor for no apparent reason. Chopper must have been busy seeing to other patients. That gave him the freedom to wander around and investigate.
Sanji flicked through the pages of the clipboard on the bed.
Zoro Roronoa.
What a mouthful. Here Sanji thought he had a name that was hard to pronounce. He read on.
Comatose.
Date of admition: 15th of August, 2010
Sanji stiffened as a shiver ran up his spine. He stared at the date. This was more than a year ago! This guy had been in a coma for that long… It was like something that only happened in movies. Sanji tried to imagine what that must feel like; to be asleep for so lon and wake up to a completely new world.
He would've missed a year of high school for one thing, and that was a lot of homework and exams to catch up on. He would've missed the elections, not that he was old enough to vote yet. Shit, even the phone that he had in his pocket didn't exist last year!
Then he would've missed key things that happened in his own life. The Baratie getting renovated after business boomed, Usopp and Kaya getting together, Robin getting that scholarship for a university overseas.
Sanji glanced back at Zoro. What things had he been missing out on in his own life? His chest welled with pity, as he turned back to the clipboard and tried to find out more details. The click of the door had him fumbling the clipboard back in it's slot, pulling the cigarette from his lips and shoving his hands in his pockets.
He tried to look as calm and composed as possible, as tired-looking man entered the room. He had pale skin, black hair that was slicked back and a pair of perfectly round glasses perched on the end of his nose. The man stared at Sanji with a look of surprise, but cleared his throat as he shut the door behind him.
"I'm sorry," said the man in a soft voice. "I didn't realize Zoro had other visitors."
Sanji shook his head and said nothing. Best lie he could come up with so far. The man smiled, fixing his glasses with the base of his palm before turning to Zoro.
"Good morning, Zoro-kun," he continued, and Sanji noticed the slight change in his accent. "It's me again, Koshiro-sensei. I told you I'd be back to visit soon, didn't I?"
Silence. Sanji swallowed, trying his best not to fidget at the sad awkwardness of this man talking to an unresponsive husk. He stood by and watched as Koshiro settled his bag down and shook off his coat.
"I have so many things to tell you, but your friend is here to visit too. Er… Sorry, what was your name again?"
"Um, Sanji."
Koshiro smiled again, but there was something broken in his expression that caused a sympathetic ache in the blonde's chest. Placing his things neatly in the arm chair beside the bed, Koshiro moved closer to Sanji and talked in an even quieter tone.
"Sorry if it seems strange," he explained. "The doctors said it's good to talk to Zoro. We should always introduce ourselves when we enter, and speak to him as normal. They said he may be unresponsive, but he's always listening."
"Oh," was all Sanji could manage to say. Inside, he kicked himself for sneaking into the room of a comatose patient without announcing his presence and began speaking without introduction. He wondered if such actions made an impact on the coma and hoped he hadn't made it worse.
"You must forgive me," said Koshiro. "I didn't know Zoro had friends in this area."
"Well…" Sanji wracked his brain for an answer. "He probably doesn't talk about me much. We're not really… I mean, I know him- er, we know each other… But he's more of a pain in the ass than anything."
Sanji's jaw snapped shut and he glanced up anxiously at the elder man. Great. Trust his mouth to just run off on him like that. Thankfully, Koshiro only laughed in response.
"That sounds like Zoro," he said. "He won't act like it, but he's fiercely loyal to anyone he considers friends."
Sanji eased at that, but as his muscles relaxed, an ache for this broken family swelled in the pit of his stomach. He glanced back at Zoro. In his head, Sanji already knew he wasn't going to make it. He wouldn't see spectres in his dreams for no reason, and last time he checked, Sanji only saw the spectres of those who were no longer living. It was all entirely possible that Zoro had already passed. It stabbed at Sanji to know this fact and not be able to tell this poor old man who still spoke to the boy as if he were alive.
"Are you…" Sanji began. "I'm sorry, we haven't really talked much. I don't know any of his family. Are you his dad?"
Koshiro gave a short laugh, it was gentle but sounded forced.
"No, no. But I might as well be. I've looked after Zoro since he was a little boy. I… never knew who his real parents were, and if Zoro ever did know, he never told anyone about them. I'd like to think he'd come to know me as his father."
Sanji nodded. This Zoro guy was sounding more and more like a jackass. But still, he felt relieved that there was someone who cared for the guy even after a whole year of sleep.
Koshiro turned to unzip the bag on the chair.
"I just got back from Japan last night," said Koshiro. "I've been away for some time, so I'm happy to know that there have been other people visiting Zoro while I was away. I was worried he'd gotten lonely."
Sanji allowed a wince to pull on his face while Koshiro's back was turned. He wondered if this was truly the first time Zoro had a visitor, and felt guilty for lying to the man. But fuck all if he was going to tell the truth now.
"Look, Zoro-kun," said Koshiro, beaming at the unresponsive boy. He pulled out a CD case from his bag and waved it in the air. Sanji caught the detail of cherry blossoms on the cover. "I brought some Enka music back for you. You always loved listening to these."
Koshiro crossed the room to the CD player on the other end, and slotted the disk in. A steady drumbeat started, accompanied by strings and flutes in a sad melody, before being joined by a mournful voice singing in a language Sanji didn't understand.
The sound distorted. A sharp pain split into Sanji's head. He staggered backwards agains the wall, pressing a hand to his temple. He screwed his eyes shut, as a high-pitched ringing droned in his ears. When he opened his eyes again, his breath snagged in his throat.
The bloodied man stood beside Zoro's bed, staring at Sanji with his dark, soulless eyes. The room filled with the sharp scent of blood. Through all the ringing, he could hear the thick, crimson liquid dripping from the man's body. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Koshiro's frowning face appeared before him.
"Sanji-kun? Are you alright?" he asked, his soft voice full of concern. Sanji's eyes flickered frantically between him and the bloodied man behind him. He hated these moments the most. When he was caught between the presence of the living and the dead. He was there. He was right there. Can't you see him?
The elder man spoke again, but his words were drowned out by the distorted music. The ringing continued in Sanji's ears, along with that consistent drip, drip, drip. Sanji could feel himself sway, and his stomach threatened to come up and out through his mouth as the scent of blood grew stronger.
"E-excuse me," muttered Sanji, hearing the shake in his own voice. He willed his legs to move, staggering out of the room and down the corridor, out of view from the window.
He supported himself against the wall, the cold cement pressed against his skin grounded him. Breathing harshly, the ringing faded to a quiet did. But the headache and the nausea remained. Feeling the heated gaze of others around him, Sanji hobbled to his room, where the nausea finally won and he just about made it to the bathroom in time. He wretched everything out, knowing that he'd feel better for it afterwards. As he flushed and began to clean himself up, the door to his room burst open.
Choppper strode to the doorway, eyes-widening as he gawked at Sanji.
"Did you just throw up?"
Sanji tried to think of other ways he could answer this question. But all he could do was nod glumly.
"Sanji!" Chopper screeched. "I told you to stay in bed! Why were you wandering around again? Are you sick? Maybe your wound got infected."
"I'm fine," Sanji lied. He still felt a little light-headed and didn't trust himself to push off the edge of the sink he was leaning on.
Chopper's small hand wrapped around his arm, gentle and comforting.
"You don't look it."
Sanji let the young doctor lead him back to his bed, cursing himself internally. He didn't want to look like he was getting worse. If anything, he wanted to leave the hospital there and then. But as his body hit the mattress, and all the energy drained out of him, Sanji knew there was no getting out of there soon.
"Lift your shirt," instructed Chopper. "Let me see your stitches."
Deciding that cooperating would make the process faster than fighting it, Sanji obeyed Chopper without complaints. He tried to think of other things besides the bloodied man and the prospect of being stuck at the hospital for longer than he intended, as the doctor pushed and prodded at his wound.
"Can I take a blood sample?" asked Chopper. "Your wound looks fine but I wanna make sure you are too."
"Fine," answered Sanji. He could feel the energy draining out of him.
Chopper's brown eyes glistened with concern. "I need to got get some needles. You won't wander about again, will you? You really need to rest."
Sanji forced a smile and ruffled the dark curls on Chopper's head.
"I won't. I feel like I need a lie down anyway."
The young doctor still looked doubtful, but he nodded and left Sanji alone. With a sigh, Sanji slumped back in the bed and soon fell into the hands of sleep.