To say I was shocked when I first found him is an extreme understatement. Traumatized? Yeah, that might be a better word. Shitting my pants? Yeah, that's the perfect phrase. But shocked? No, that's way too mild. But then again, it's not like you walk in on someone with a pool of blood around them every day, do you? Well, at least I never did. Until I found him.
I was walking past his dorm room when I heard music being played extremely loud. Okay, that's a lie; I wasn't walking past his dorm room I was walking to his dorm room. My way too passive roommate Kira was getting upset at the volume and forced me to tell our hall mate to shut the fuck up. Well, not in those words per say. Regardless of how I was to tell the guy to be quiet, I found myself hesitating outside of his door; I could simply feel negative air oozing out of the door frame. Slowly and hesitantly, I lifted my knuckles to the door, which was pushed open by the sheer pressure of my knock. And that's how I found him.
He looked at me with hazy, brown eyes whatever consciousness he had within him was quickly fading. His arms were dangling uselessly against the floor as blood seeped through the fresh cuts that littered his wrist. His chest was rising and falling in quick repetition. His vibrant orange locks were plastered to his forehead with sweat. His mouth gaped at me like a fish out of water. He looked like he was trying to say something, the voice not daring to leave his throat. His brown eyes caught mine and my heart lurched. I realized it then. I froze while someone was dying in front of me.
Without a second thought I ran into his room, no longer caring if he was a complete stranger that I hadn't seen until today. His body felt lithe in my arms and extremely fragile. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling how cold his body was as it silently convulsed. I easily picked him up and sprinted out of the room and to mine. It hadn't even occurred to me to call a doctor. So instead, I ran to Kira. I didn't notice that I was crying until he asked me why I was. I watched as his eyes raked over my body, my clothes now covered in blood of another person. His eyes went wide at the limp body that I now held in my arms. He didn't say anything as he picked up the phone and called an ambulance.
To say the ride to the hospital was awkward is an extreme understatement. Scary? Yeah, that was the perfect word. Nerve-wracking to the point of tears? Yeah, that was a better phrase. But awkward? No, that was the last feeling on my mind. Because, when I was watching as the paramedics checked his vitals, doing whatever they could to keep the guy alive, I couldn't think of anything about the fear of having someone die. Especially when I knew I could have saved them.
I once again found myself crying, silent tears making their way down my cheeks as I cried over a guy I had never met before. A guy who could have died if I hadn't been the one elected to tell him to turn his music around. If Kira and I simply turned our music up louder, contributing to the overall noise, instead of intervening, the guy could have died. My heart started to stammer in my chest, and I was unable to comprehend anything else. The guy could have died.
As soon as we got to the hospital I was instantly bombarded with question. None of which I could answer. All I could say was that I found him in his room. Found him in his room. He was a stranger. Someone I had no recognition of. Had I even met the guy before? How do you live right next to someone for half a semester and not remember ever seeing the guy? Especially, when he had hair as bright, as his. I didn't even know his name, which was a problem for everyone in the hospital. That is, until two people came running into the hospital screaming in panic
"Ichigo! Where the hell is Ichigo?"
A small girl with raven black hair was streaming tears as she continued to yell at the receptionist.
"Rukia." A somber looking red-head placed his large hand on her shoulder. "Yelling, won't do anything."
"Shut up, Renji. Ju-just shut up." Turned smacked his hand away and turned to the receptionist again. "Where is Ichigo? He has orange hair and is probably d-dy-ying from lack of blood. Wh-whe-where the hell is he?"
"Renji?" The red-head turned around to look at me, his honey colored eyes widening in schock.
"Shuuhei…what are you doing here?" His eyes quickly covered my body, instantly noticing the blood that was drying on my clothes. His face quickly contorted until all I met was an anger that I would never be able to explain. Within a few steps he had crossed the waiting room and had his hands fisting into my shirt, lifting me off the chair a little. "You found him? What the hell happened? Why is my best friend in a hospital?"
Fear ran through my body. "I-I do-don't know. I just found him."
Renji's hands let go of my shirt and I fell back into my seat. The three of us were silent. Renji had been rubbing small circles into the small of the Rukia girl's back, as she cried into her hands, mumbling over and over again that she should have seen the signs. I sat there, feeling extremely uncomfortable by the stifling pressure of the waiting room.
Why was I still here? Why hadn't I left already? He wasn't my friend. He was a stranger. Someone I found dying and did the right thing by taking him to the hospital. Although I found reasons why I didn't need to be in the hospital any longer, I found myself glued to my seat. I was unable to leave, something in my body wouldn't let me. So I sat there, waiting. For what? I'm not sure myself. Reassurance that he didn't die? Renji could have told me that some other time. Some sort of merit for doing a good deed? Even I wasn't that vain. For whatever reason, I continued to sit, listening to Rukia's constant sobs and Renji's reassuring words.
It felt like hours before we got any word. A quiet, mousy male nurse coming into the hallway to tell us that the Ichigo character was fine. Rukia and Renji stood up instantly, asking if they could go see him right off the bat. The small male nodded, but he stopped them when they started to walk towards Ichigo's hospital room. When they questioned him, the nurse simply turned to me. His grey eyes piercing into the mind.
"He wants to see the person who found him."
Shocked. This was the perfect time to use the word. Renji and Rukia had both turned to me silently, eyeing me with wonder to why Ichigo wanted to see me but not them. I ignored their gaze as I slowly stood up and fell into step with the nurse. He went on and on about Ichigo being jumpy and unaware of his surroundings. He was still in a mild state of shock and that I was supposed to be extremely cautious of my actions and words. I walked next to him, half-listening to what he said as my mind quickly ran over the situation. What exactly am I supposed to say to someone who just tried to kill themselves?
I walked into the dark room, listening to the beeping of the machines that seemed to be monitoring his vitals. He looked even smaller in the hospital bed, not that I had known what he looked like on a good day. The nurse left us almost instantly, saying that I had ten minutes before he returned. We stared at each other, and I let out a sigh of relief when I noticed that there had actually be some sign of life behind the dark brown orbs. I ran a hand through my short, black hair, trying to do something to break the tension that was penetrating the air.
"What does your tattoo mean?"
I looked up at him, his soft, yet strong voice filled the room instantly. Quite honestly, that was not the first question I expected him to ask me. "What?"
"Your tattoo…on your face. What does it mean?"
My hand came up to feel the difference between my skin and the ink. "It's a memoir, to my step-father. He saved me when I was younger, he had a similar tattoo."
"You had someone save you?" He cocked his head as he watched me with a small scowl that almost seen natural.
"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly feeling nervous. "I was in an orphanage. He found me and gave me life."
"So you weren't dying?" His voice seemed like it fell slightly.
"Not in the physical sense."
"Is that why you saved me?" He looked up at me again, his brown eyes probing and questioning.
"Really?" His eyes narrowed. "Then why did you do it?"
"You asked me to."
There was nothing left to be said. We stared at each other, feeling each other out as we stared at each other's features. I'm not sure what it was, but I found my feet moving on their own, bringing me to the side of his bed. I should have stopped myself, but my brain was simply not connecting with my brain, and my hand had instantly reached out for his. So there I was: standing next to a guy I had never seen before in my life, holding his hand and rubbing small circles that I had Kensei had done for me so many times when I was younger. I stared at him. He was a mysterious boy, and there was something inside me that wanted to solve the ever present question.
"Why did you try to kill yourself?"
So this kind of came to me out of the blue and my fingers were itching to write it.
I'm not sure if I'm going to keep this as a one shot or if it's a full fledge story, since I know I could work up some kind of plot of it.
But, since I'm currently writing two other stories, I'm not sure if I'm gonna continue this.
If I do, it won't be until I finish one of my other stories.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed.
It's a lot darker than I usually write, but it's something I've wanted to write for a while now.