You Belong To Me

"Hey, good morning again," Nemuri's voice spoke, almost instantly after she'd said goodbye. It was a common cycle, with the passing of time seemingly altered. "Sorry I haven't come in a few days. Everything's been so hectic, you know?"

She gave a small laugh.

"We have a new batch of students now. They’re all so… youthful. They all are, always have been. Heh. I love the lil’ guys, always such fun. But it gets lonely, yknow? Not having you around anymore. Once we lost over a fourth of our little crew… It’s been tough.”

She paused.

“I picked up singing, so maybe one day in the future we could karaoke again. And, you know, actually sound good. Ectoplasm helped me out a bit. Who knew he was into that, huh? Anyways, I left some cookies out again for you, since you always liked the ones I made. Love you, hunny.”

Nemuri sighed, wiping tears from her eyes as she stood up and turned away from him. Some footsteps were audible coming up behind her, putting a gentle hand on her back.

“Do you think… he can hear me? I’d hate for him to be all alone again…”

“It’s hard to say,” an elderly female voice replied.

“Yeah… I don’t want to lose hope but…” Her voice trailed off. “It’s been almost three weeks now. I’d only just gotten him back home safe and now he’s gone again.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Kayama. Yamada’s strong, and we’ve had a very successful time keeping his body healthy.”

“Mhm…”

“What’s on your mind, dear?”

“I just-” She sighed, sitting back down. “I can’t help but blame myself. If I’d brought him to my place when the red flags got stronger… Hell, even if I’d been more attentive the day he came back…”

“None of this was in your control, dearie. You can’t expect yourself to be the sole person responsible for his own actions and decisions. Or anybody else’s. You aren’t in control of life or death, and I know you wouldn’t put that responsibility on any single person either, would you?”

Nemuri smiled weakly. “No, I wouldn’t. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize to me, Kayama. Have faith in Yamada. He’ll pull through.”

●○°•♡•°○●

Nemuri’s voice played like a record, day after day until it just… stopped. Almost instantly after it had begun to start. He remembered all of it, though. Every word she said to him, all the details of the classes, of her life.

Hizashi felt his eyes open weakly, slowly settling into the lighting of the room. It was nice and dim, with the sunlight muffled by the curtains that left the room faintly pink. He took a deep breath in, feeling the sleepy fog in his head clear out peacefully.

He still couldn’t force his limbs to move yet, so he tried getting his eyes to focus more, not to much avail. He didn’t have his glasses on and he didn’t see them around him. All he could tell was that this was probably Recovery Gir’s place, judging by the vague familiarity of the room and the voice he heard speaking to Nemuri. She wasn’t there now, though. Nemuri wasn’t either.

It was an odd experience, though. Going immediately from fucked up on his bed to being completely sober, in a hospital room listening to multiple weeks of conversation happen so damn fast.

More of his life, gone.

I guess that’s what happens when you use almost double what your body can take all at once, huh.

Stupid.

Hizashi yawned loudly, trying to attract the attention of somebody. Anybody. Talking still took too much energy. Nothing. He groaned, squinting to try and see the room’s details just a little bit better. There was what looked to be an unopened food container, and a plate with saran wrap that looked to be the cookies that Nemuri had mentioned. She’d done this repeatedly.

They were in reach, but moving was just so tiring.

Click!

The door! I’m awake now, whoever you are! Just let me go home… Please.

“Hey, Zashi,” Nemuri said, exhausted and not looking up at him. “Boy do I have a long story to tell because today was just… UGH!”

“Tell me,” He managed to force out, feeling himself smile a bit at her dramatic opening.

“That’s the plan. So I’m walking in to start my Art History class and-” She froze, looking up and meeting Hizashi’s eyes. “ZASHI!!!”

He gave a weak laugh, watching her bolt over to him and wrap him in a gentle, motherly hug, but he felt his grin falter when he noticed that she was crying into his chest, sniffling a little bit too.

“Why ya cryin, Nem..?” he breathed, managing to finally put a shaky arm around her, resting it on her shoulder.

“I thought you wouldn’t wake up… That I’d lost you forever this time. I was so scared, Zashi…”

“Nem… I’m- I’m sorry. I’m here to stay now, kay? I promise ya, I ain’t leavin.”

“You’d better fuckin not,” she sassed, backing up away from him and repeatedly spamming the ‘call nurse’ button by the bed. “I can’t keep having Nezu be the only actual socialization I have. I can’t do it.”

Hizashi cackled, feeling his strength return just a little bit more, although it still turned to a cough after a few seconds, to which he gave an apologetic smile.

“Oh god. Definitely. Don’t ya worry, that’s over.”