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It's Only Life	By : XLiebeX Category: > Kyo/Kaoru Views: 1006 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction! I do not know Dir en grey, and I do not profit from these writings.

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Chapter 5

Puking blood constituted a trip to the hospital, in lieu of a normal physician, in my opinion. I know that a grim look is etched onto my face as I sit in the lobby of the hospital, wedged into the uncomfortable, padded chairs. I feel alone, seated in here, in spite of the company of my other band mates and one, solitary, elderly couple.

When I had finished my panicked, fractured English calling to the nearest hospital, I had gathered Kyo up on my own, in my arms like he weighed less than air, and taken off for the hospital. The only reason the others even are with me right now is because I nearly barreled Die down on the sidewalk as he was talking to Totchi and Shinya on their way into the hotel building.

“Kaoru—what’s going on?” Die had shouted at me as I ignored him. He scrambled around to my side, grabbing onto my shoulder and staring at Kyo. It must have seemed like I probably clocked Kyo a good one and was taking him to get patched up, for I was sure that everyone knew what had happened earlier.

“We are going to the hospital, now!” I snapped, on edge as I flagged down a cab. Fuck an ambulance, fuck everything; I would get this done on my own, damn it.

“We’re coming with you,” Die told me.

We had ridden to the hospital in an uneasy silence. The cab driver obviously disturbed by us, Kyo in my lap on the far side of the car; Shinya next to us, watched cautiously with Die next to him; and Toshiya simply stared at us from the farthest seat. It was an uncomfortable fit, and most assuredly illegal to have us all in there, but we had made it in record time.

This leaves us here. Waiting for the doctor to come out in his white-coated splendor and tell us something—anything. My scenarios have run the entire gamut, I feel. From, “He just has a cold—Sir, are you completely stupid?” All the way to, “I am sorry, Kyo has AIDS; too much gay sex.”

I can’t stand sitting here anymore, so I stand up and go outside, where I can smoke without nurses glaring at me angrily and muttering to one another. Lighting up, I take the first long drag from the cigarette, flicking off the ashes while I try to absorb some nicotine into my system and calm down. I expel the smoke anxiously, shaking my hair off of my shoulders. The sound of the door sliding open catches my attention and I turn to see who has come out. Toshiya…

“Kaoru,” he starts slowly, standing a good distance away from me, “We need to talk.”

I drop the cigarette butt, grinding it under my shoe. “Yeah, Totchi, we do— so talk.” I am interested to know exactly what the bassist has to say in defense. It had better be pretty damned good, or I am two seconds away from breaking his face in. We are at a hospital, after all.

“About Kyo, I- I didn’t,” Toshiya stutters out.

“You left him, Totchi. Why?” I ask plaintively, cutting him off, even though I want to know why.

“Why did I leave hi—”

“No!” I snap, clenching my jaw tightly, grinding my teeth together. “Why did you decide you wanted him back all of the sudden?” I ask, locking eyes with the bassist.

“We were joking and laughing like we used to… You know how I am, Kaoru… I just wanted him.” I scoff, becoming more and more irritated. The logical part of me knows that Toshiya is the kind of person that thrives on physical touch and intimacy. It is a part of his nature to need and enjoy these things, but can’t he do it with someone else? Kyo was supposed to be mine!

“I didn’t know, Kaoru. I had no idea,” he says, daring to come closer. His hand rests on my shoulder and I feel the intense urge to shrug it off or slap it away. “Die explained to me… You really love him, don’t you, Kaoru?”

“Yeah,” I say, bitterly, “but it doesn’t matter— He still loves you, Totchi. It’s still you… not me.” To say what I fear is possibly the worst thing I have ever felt in my life. Hearing my own voice saying it makes it seem ten times worse when it’s out in the open. Like fire, oxygen only makes it stronger and hotter.

Toshiya’s grip tightens. “No, he doesn’t.” I can hear him swallowing hard, once. “In the bathroom, Kaoru… I kissed him. And he just pushed me away. He told me he couldn’t be like that with me,” Totchi stares at me pointedly, “Because he didn’t feel like that for me anymore. He says it is because he feels like that for you.”

I say nothing, swallowing hard. However, on the inside, I am rejoicing. Somehow, by Kyo admitting to another person how he felt, even if it’s only slight enough to make him loyal to me over Toshiya, makes me feel good. I am wanted… I am preferred… I am such an asshole for acting the way I did.

“I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen, Kaoru.” The bassist looks at me, his dark eyes sincere and concerned. In the end, he is always heartfelt with everything—I would be foolish not to believe him. This apology is a wholly sincere one and I know this, now.

“It doesn’t matter, Totchi. It was a misunderstanding…”

Die comes sprinting outside, breaking the moment. “Doctor came out. Go back there, Kaoru,” he sputters, and I vaguely think of how we all should let up on smoking.

I sprint inside in a skidding rush, causing the elderly couple in the lobby to jump and Shinya just to look up with concerned interest. Now, I feel incredibly worried, like I could jump out of my own skin at the slightest little thing. Right now, I need to be with Kyo—this very instant, damn it. “Which wa—”

“That way,” Shinya says, turning in his chair and pointing to the formidable looking door that the doctor had first passed through. I nod thanks and take off through it, nearly plowing into the physician. I feel as though I am living up to my title of dork tonight— I am completely out of my element in the hospital, and it is not pleasant.

“Sir, are you okay?” The doctor asks, speaking in a way that obviously tells me that he is aware that I can’t speak English too well. “Just calm down for a moment,” he offers, holding up a hand in a calming manner.

My eyes flick over him, attempting to focus on tiny details in hopes that I can be distracted for the moment. His name-card says he is Dr. Davis; his skin is a healthy cross between pale and tan; his eyes are green; his hair is a dark brown color; and he has stubble coming in on his jaw. My eyes shift to the floor, then my shoes. I don’t feel very distracted at all, just anxious.

“Now,” Dr. Davis starts, interrupting me, “Of what relationship are you to Mr. Nishimura?”

“Kyo,” I interrupt in turn, out of habit. My mind chews on the language for a moment, until I feel confident enough in myself and my speech to talk. “We are in a band together. He is the singer, I am the guitarist. He is my best friend and his family is in Japan.” I answer blandly, deciding not to complicate things with out true relationship.

Dr. Davis nods, seeming vaguely satisfied. “Niikura?” he questions, not doing a fabulous job with the pronunciation, either, so we must be even.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Kyo,” the physician starts, indicating that he actually listened, “Keeps asking for you. ‘Niikura’ was the name he gave me when I asked if ‘Kaoru’ had another name to go with that,” he says, looking at me in a way that makes me faintly uncomfortable. I think it’s that way doctors have of analyzing and assessing people that bothers me.

“So, what’s wrong with him?” I have to ask, at length, my mind repeating the scene of Kyo vomiting blood over and over. My stomach gives an uncomfortable twinge, as though I might be the one to start regurgitating, this time. Let him be alright, please…

“Two things,” Davis starts, and I focus in to make certain that I catch everything, “First, alcohol poisoning. He was drinking tonight, obviously.”

I nod, understanding. “Yes, he doesn’t drink all that much really…” And I’ll be damned if the little shit ever does it again, after this fiasco. It’s fair enough to say that alcohol and Kyo do not groove well together in any way, shape, or form.

“We took care of that, by pumping him, but his stomach is going to feel unpleasant for awhile,” the physician explains. He pauses for a moment, as if to make sure that I am getting everything that is being said, “And secondly, Kyo has managed to come down with influenza.”

My eyes shift to the door of the room where Kyo is undoubtedly in one of those horrific looking hospital beds, still feeling cold and angry about being so. How did this happen? Did it come out of thin air? It certainly seems that way to me, which makes me irritable for some reason.

“Had he been displaying any symptoms prior to tonight? Complaining of coughing or aching?”

“No, not really… Or he didn’t let on, until tonight when he got sick.” Of course, Kyo would wait until he was at ground zero to let us in on that. “He is a smoker, so we didn’t think much about his coughing.” Kyo, you little idiot… I could absolutely strangle you for letting this go so far.

“I’m honestly shocked that he was able to ignore the symptoms for so long,” Davis reveals, making a slight face of concern, “His fever was extremely high, but we have managed to bring it down to a safe degree. The fever is still running its course, so he is going to feel rather uncomfortable for a while.”

“But, he’s going to be alright?” I ask, impatient to know. My manners can take a back-seat for the meantime, because the only thing on my mind is Kyo; not the band’s welfare or how the press is going to be on about our singer being sick and speculating details and reasons—nothing but Kyo, as a person.

“Yes, but this was a close call.” The statement is not comforting, I decide, as it sinks in. “If he had ignored this for even another day, there could have been significant damage done to him,” Dr. Davis pauses, “You did everything right, and by getting him here so quickly, you very well may have saved his life.”

I can’t find any words to say to the doctor. I do not feel particularly heroic; I just feel like someone who had carted their dearest friend-turned-lover to an establishment he absolutely despised, because he was sick and too stubborn to complain about things being wrong.

“I’m going to admit you to the room to see him, since there’s little point in trying to keep you clean. I’m sure you and the rest of your companions are already exposed to the germs,” Davis pauses to push his hair into place, and I think of how Toshiya and myself are most definitely going to come down with this shit, “I am going to prescribe medicine for this, in the chance that the rest of you come down with it.”

“You all have to monitor yourselves carefully, watch for any discomfort such as aches, chills, anything that seems like it might be a cold—do not trust it. It’s better to catch it in the infant stages than to let it breed like your friend did. You may go in now,” Dr. Davis, concludes, leaving me to enter the room.

“Kyo,” I say tersely, standing a fair distance from where the vocalist is lying, “There is no point of us checking you out of here, because I am going to kill you for letting this happen!” Pulling one of the chairs closer to his bed, I sit down and prop my elbows on my thighs, so that I can rest my face in my hands.

After a nasty-sounding cough that makes me wince, Kyo says, “You would be better off,” and thinks about rolling over, but stops when he takes a look at the tubes connecting him to monitors. He looks truly uncomfortable… and frail, something I’m not used to seeing in Kyo. I think it’s just seeing him in this bed, which makes it seem this way.

“Don’t say that,” I state. This mood of Kyo’s feels familiar and I know that it has to be stopped, now, before it can get any stronger. The fact of our fight earlier was not doing any favors in this department, either, I remind myself.

“I don’t deserve to ha—”

“What, Kyo? What don’t you deserve? Someone who gives a damn, is that it?” I start, angrily, even though I am not truly angry with him, “Someone who cares?”

“No…” His dark eyes shift to mine, and I see sheer guilt and discomfort there, “You.” There is yet another blunt, unveiled self-derogatory admission from him.

“Kyo,” I reach for his hand, gingerly grasping it when I notice the tube taped to it, “Tonight scared the shit out of me. You felt like you were burning to death, and when you started bleeding… God, Kyo— I felt helpless, useless… Thinking of what was wrong with you and everything bad that could happen. During the ride, and in the waiting room, I kept swearing that if I could have done anything to help you and I didn’t, I would never forgive myself.”

Kyo shuts his eyes, squeezing them tightly. It is as though my little speech makes him uncomfortable and does not want to see me right now; however, I have something to say. “You asked me before, how I could make you feel like the center of my world, like you were important. I told you that you are important, Kyo… Nothing is going to change that, for me. Ever,” I pause, “Does it still scare you?”

Kyo’s eyes look suspiciously moist when he finally graces me with his stare. “Yeah… but not so much,” he smiles very faintly, and a hint of his usual fire sparks up with the blunt statement, “At least, I know you will take good care of me, if I’m dying.”

At the spur of the moment, I raise his hand to my lips, kissing his knuckles gently. I rest my cheek against his tattooed fingers, shutting my eyes briefly. A small, almost imperceptible, whine comes from Kyo, and I look up at him.

“Kaoru… Don’t—” Kyo stumbles over his words, “You are going to make me—” his voice cracks just barely, and he slams his eyes shut, once again.

I watch in awed wonder as a few tears slide past the barrier of his clenched eyes. Standing, I brush them from his cheeks with my rough fingertips, pressing a small kiss to his lips. Fuck it, I am going to end up sick anyway.

“You are right, though, Kyo,” I murmur gently against his lips, “I am going to take care of you, no matter what.” Straightening up, I ruffle his blonde hair affectionately, “Now, get some sleep. I will be here when you wake up.”

+BustyXD— Thank you! I really don't think I like this, because it seems too simple, but I can't really change the juvenile-feeling essence of the story, because I'd written it some time back. But again, thank you!
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