two birds and an antichrist (closed log)

[inutile]

Date & Time: June 9th, sometime in the afternoon.
Location: Surprise hospital
Characters: Nageki Fujishiro inutile, Kaworu Nagisa salvagedsoul and Kazuaki Nanaki fatigue
Summary: Nageki is hella sick and Kaworu comes to visit while the teach is passed out in a bathroom stall.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, illness, hospital stuff and possibly some extreme passive aggression

Never had Nageki thought that a hospital would be a pleasant place to visit, but neither would he have expected to end up in one that failed to meet even those lackluster standards.


Then again, Nageki had never imagined he would ever end up inside a hospital at all. In hindsight, he knows he should have realized that the freedom given to him within Exsilium had its own consequences, as well -- this poor health of his being one of them, and he should have never assumed that taking medicine would solve all of the problems that plague him in his human body. It was only a matter of time until he caught something he couldn't solve with something as simple as a handful of medication every morning. Besides... thinking of all of this as something that was inevitable, that was bound to happen to him eventually makes it a little easier not to worry about what he could have done to prevent all of this stress on so many people.

Thinking it doesn't stop him from looking back all the same, however. At the time he'd thought that not mentioning how sick he really felt would be saving Mister Nanaki from worrying unnecessarily over his health, back when Nageki assumed he would be over this illness in a week at most; even resting all day like he'd insisted seemed too overly cautious, until his condition took too sharp of a dive for Nageki not to be concerned. Once he began to cough and find blood on his hands, he knew better than to argue against going to the hospital as soon as possible-- and with hindsight, Nageki knows now that he should have been worried as soon as he woke up the first time struggling to breathe.

Laying in a hospital bed gives him little to do besides running the events of the past few days over in his head. It's impossible not to wonder what would have happened if he'd decided to visit the hospital before things turned so serious, and whether or not he would have been able to stop this entire ordeal from unfolding in the first place if he had; despite the increasing numbers of patients filtering past his room as the past few days have progressed, his guilt doesn't seem to be going away. What if making his friends get so worked up about this is really all his fault? Maybe if he hadn't been so negligent, Mister Nanaki would just go home instead of staying here every day and night exhausting himself without end.

It definitely doesn't help the matter that visiting a hospital feels so unnerving. It leaves a knot in his stomach that won't go away no matter what Nageki does to try and ignore it, and when Nageki drifts off into sleep and awakes -- he can't place what it is, or what it means, but he always comes back into consciousness with a feeling of such dread and fear that haunts him for hours. Why is it that he feels this way? It can't just be the atmosphere, or not knowing what's going to happen to him in this place. It's all the more to think about while he stares at the ceiling, book in his arms and wondering where Mister Nanaki could have gone off to for so long without coming back.

Comments

[salvagedsoul]

Kaworu himself has been quite busy the past week or so, as awareness of this illness had spread among Transports and locals alike. It seemed to affect the young and elderly first, and anyone with a particular susceptibility to it, too. As he'd assisted with helping vulnerable strangers, the possibility that this sickness could be anything more than a flu for this close friends had never crossed his mind.

Of course, an inbox message from Nageki politely notifying him why he might not be at his apartment shook his memory immediately.

Nageki fits the human stereotype of sickliness - pale, small, thin, and not particularly energetic or active, for whatever reason. It was something that probably brought them together, as Kaworu could be described in a similar way, notwithstanding the near-immortality afforded to his body by his angel constitution. And at the same time, Kaworu had somehow forgot about the possibility of Nageki falling victim to the epidemic.

Because he identified with him, and forgot about their differences? Because Nageki is so hesitant to complain? Or because he'd failed to keep a closer watch over his well-being...?

When he finally finds Nageki's room, he stands in the doorway and takes in the sight of him in the hospital bed. As familiar as Kaworu is with these medical environments and their instrumentalities, seeing Nageki like this is a bit frightening.

"Nageki-kun," he says as he steps in, setting his bag down. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

[inutile]

With his mind wandering, he doesn't immediately notice Kaworu's presence by the doorway, and he only turns his head to look his way when he hears his friend's familiar voice calling him name, vaguely startled by it until he remembers -- well, visitors are a part of being forced to stay at a hospital. Even if he'd rather not have Kaworu see him in such poor condition, he would be incredibly bored if he had no company besides Mister Nanaki's; not that his presence is all that dull, but there's not much fulfilling about spending every day and night with someone who sleeps more than they actually speak when neither of you have the energy to do much else.

He doesn't hesitate to shake his head as Kaworu apologizes, a little confused to be hearing it when he can't imagine what Kaworu could have done wrong. He's never expected to be the primary focus of Kaworu's life, anyway, not when he clearly has people who need and deserve his focus far more. He definitely didn't assume that he had been abandoned despite the long absence, especially in a time where things seem to be so hectic for everybody... this sickness probably could have chosen to come at a better time, to be sure. It only makes him want to squirm uncomfortably just thinking about it, but even that takes more energy than he has, and he's already made the mistake of trying to disturb his IV drip once.

"No, don't worry about it."

The brittle sound to his own voice annoys him, but he refuses to let the irritation show on his face for fear of Kaworu thinking it's directed towards him. With his free arm, he rubs the dark circles under his eyes and blinks a little fiercely to bring Kaworu's face into better focus. Is Kaworu sick too, he wonders, or is he just somewhat more stressed-looking than he usually is?

[salvagedsoul]

"How are you?" he asks as he draws close, pulling a chair along with him so he can sit beside his bed. "How are you feeling?"

Nageki looks weak. And miserable. Kaworu stares at him with concern, but no intensity; his gaze is gentle in its sincerity. Many times had he laid in a similar position as a boy, swallowing down a distant sense of pain. Of course, the experiments aiming to refine his regenerative abilities were very successful and he had been inhumanly healthy since then, but the memories could not leave.

"Surely they've given you something to help, right?"

[inutile]

Nageki wishes he knew how to answer any of those questions in a way that wasn't so brutally honest as all of it sounds inside of his own head. The truth would be that he can't remember ever having felt this poorly before in his life, short and pointless as most of it may have been -- but even then, he's not entirely convinced he isn't overreacting about it. How would someone with so little pain experience be able to gauge what sort of illness is genuinely insufferable? He could easily be one of the better-off patients in this hospital. Thinking that just makes the guilt of the matter a little harder to deal with, though, and it doesn't have anything to do with answering Kaworu's questions.

"...A respirator. I've only been using it during the night, so far." He takes the opening given to him in Kaworu's last concern to dodge the others, hoping that Kaworu won't press. He could lie to him and say that he doesn't feel as badly as he does, but... if this does become even more serious, Kaworu would know he wasn't being sincere. Breaking Kaworu's trust, even to keep him from worrying, isn't the most favourable outcome of this mess if he can somehow avoid doing it altogether.

All the same, he knows that his answer isn't really one anybody would like to hear. Nageki has had plenty of time to notice that the treatments he's been given don't seem to be doing much more than helping to wait out his illness in hopes that it will go away on its own, and the medication he's been taking looks and tastes exactly like the kind he's already been taking for months -- so unless he's been administered drugs in his sleep that Mister Nanaki has yet to inform him of, there hasn't been any obvious proactive treatment. It would be hard to pretend that that doesn't unsettle him at all...

Even the momentary silence that follows his reply is just too morbid and uncomfortable to bear, and he knows that he'd much rather be talking about anything else. Now that Kaworu's face isn't so blurry, Nageki can tell that he certainly looks strained, but not anywhere sick as him; if Nageki thinks about it, that doesn't seem terribly surprising, or at least not from everything he's learned. It's relieving, at any rate.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, maybe a little blatant now in avoidance, but he really does want to know. Is there something else happening that is making Kaworu stressed? Could it be that another friend of his is sick, as well?

[salvagedsoul]

His avoidance says everything. Kaworu stares at him for a long moment. He knows what will probably happen, but neither of them are acknowledging it.

This is too cruel. How many of his friends does he have to see like this? But even that is a naive question. They are all subject to this. Mortality. That's the way it works. The fruit of knowledge...

He closes his eyes for a second to push these thoughts away. He came to be here for Nageki, in whatever way he could. When he opens his eyes again, he looks to him with a calm, reassuring smile.

"I'm fine," he says. He leans a little closer after noticing Nageki squinting to see him. "...I'm lucky, I suppose." In the truest sense: this disease could have no effect on his body; its particle-wave composition made it fundamentally uninhabitable to microorganisms.

"Where is Nanaki-sensei?" he adds, glance to the rest of the room. "He should know I'm here." Kaworu is certain that Kazuaki would not leave Nageki here alone, he was too devoted a friend. But he'd imagine that he's been here the entire time, not taking a break or taking care of himself.

[inutile]

Having to stare back at Kaworu with the way he's looking at him is too much. His eyes stay on the sterile, white blanket under his hands, squeezing the book in his arms idly for something to do, pretending that their silence isn't so suffocating.

He knows Kaworu isn't stupid. He's definitely aware of how bleak this entire situation is, but as childish as it might be -- knowing that the gravity of it all is drawing steadily nearer, he wants to imagine for as long as he can that things aren't so bad. To do that forever would be foolish, but he isn't interested in that. It's only for the time being that he'll let himself pretend.

Kaworu's gentle smile somehow makes that easier, raising his eyes to see it at the sound of his warm voice. He feels a cough rising in his throat while Kaworu speaks, but he keeps himself quiet until he can do so into the back of his hand without interrupting, careful not to let the faint wheeze in his breath penetrate his already flimsy voice.

"I don't know," he replies, which is definitely true -- he doesn't have a clue where Mister Nanaki has gone. He wasn't present when Nageki woke up about an hour ago, anyway, but he can't imagine him being gone for so long unless it was something important; something important that hopefully isn't an emergency of some kind. With another small cough that helps relieve the strain on his lungs enough to take a deep breath in and out, he leans back into his pillows and turns his head fully to gaze more intently at the face of his friend.

Kaworu says he's lucky not to be ill, but Nageki can't help wondering whether or not that's really true. Would if be better to be the one watching on as the ill, be it strangers or friends, all became too weak to do anything anymore -- and with nothing to show for it, with no way to help them at all? Immortality can be a curse so much more than a blessing. That's something Nageki knows well by now, at least.

"Are you lucky?" He watches to see if Kaworu's expression changes at all, suddenly hyperaware of how much he wishes he could see inside of his friend's mind and know exactly what it is that goes through his mind at a time like this. But could be that he's better off not knowing, all the same.

"It may not be a physical pain, but you are suffering too, are you not?"

[salvagedsoul]

Kaworu's expression does change, but perhaps not in the way Nageki expects. Rather than reacting to Nageki's question with denial or acknowledgement, the way he's looking at him only seems to reflect even deeper fond feelings. Even at a time like this, Nageki is refusing to accept too much sympathy. He'd rather concern himself with the de minimus needs of a being like himself.

He reaches out and, very carefully, smooths down the palm of his outstretched hand at his side, making sure not to disturb it too much to affect the IV in his arm. His touch is feather soft, like trying to smooth out fragile lace.

"Anyone would prefer to be in my shoes than in yours," he says. Perhaps it's a bit blunt, but it's true even if they're both refusing to outright confirm what will probably happen to Nageki. How incredibly selfish would it be to answer that question in the affirmative, anyway? Even if Nageki lingered in this hospital room for twice as many days as he had left, the disease will probably linger in this place for a long time after that. He could easily just get sick again.

"What are you reading?" The question is completely intended to change the subject. His eyes dart to the cover of the book curiously. What could it be that he's chosen to occupy himself at a time like this? It must be important.