Blood Roses
Part Two: Renewal

I hear faint voices and I'm able to make out a few phrases here and there as I float toward and away from consciousness. I can't move or even open my eyes at this point. I must be dead. There's nothing else I can be.

"-obviously has some resistance to-"

Now I'm curious. Who are they talking about? Am I in heaven? Or hell? Or somewhere in between? And why can't I move even my eyelids? My head is swimming with questions like those.
"-don't know if he's going to make-"

Nani? Someone's going to make something. Somebody male. But who? And what is he going to make?

"-he does, then he may be permanently-"

No, now he's going to do something. And it might have some kind of a permanent effect. Now I'm really confused.

"-not very likely-"

What isn't likely? That whoever they're talking about probably won't do whatever they're saying he will do? K'so, this confusion is really a bitch, I think through my wonderment.

"-has a 50% chance of healing-"

Oh, so now the guy is a healer? Like a witch doctor or something? I'm completely and totally stupified by what I'm hearing. I only wish I wouldn't keep coming in and out of consiousness. My mind feels like it's being tossed on the waves, floating towards and then away from the shore. I want to be able to hear the whole conversation but I have no control over where my mind drifts off to. I can't move, and my brain is sluggish and foggy.

"-be in ICU for at least another-"

The conversation is starting to make more sense. I piece together what little fragments of conversation. From my understanding, whoever they're talking about has some kind of illness, and has a half of a chance at life. But where am I?

"-probably can't hear you but-"

Maybe I'm still alive.
I hear a new voice join the conversation now. It sounds strangely familiar, and yet so unknown to me. I'm registering the sound of the voice somewhere from my memory, but I don't know where. I'm still only hearing broken fragments of conversation, like bad reception on a cellular phone.

"-you doing, damn it? Make him-"

My brain is clicking away one possibility after another, trying to figure out where I know that voice from. This new shard of the conversation confuses me again. What little sense I had made of what was being said flies out the window.

Then the first voice comes back. It sounds like the two voices are arguing. 

"-thing we can. But there is no known-"

I stop thinking and listen to the bits and pieces of the argument.

"-thought you said he had resistance to-"

"-that's not an antidote for-"

"-good does it do-"

"-better chance to-"

"-be better soon then-"

"-to have to ask you to-"

"-not going to leave his side until-"

This is getting kind of interesting. Then I hear a third and a fourth voice. They make sounds of agreement to the second. Now my mind sticks in a semi-consious place and I can hear whole sentences.  I feel as if  maybe I'm waking up a little. I can almost move.

"It's hospital policy. Only immediate family is allowed to visit patients in the ICU. Unless you get permission from his legal guardians, I'm afraid you must leave."

"We are his family," three voices say in unison.

"Well," the first voice says, "I suppose. Since we haven't located any other people..." a moment of hesitation. "...but do you have any idea where his parents are?"

The second voice answers. "Dead," it pronounces, speaking the word as if it were a prison sentencing.

"He's lived with us for years. Most of his life," a deep voice continues. Another familiar voice. I almost recognize it. If only I could open my eyes...

But who are they talking about? Am I in a hospital?

"Oh. I had no idea..." the first voice says now.  "In that case you may stay. But don't expect too much. He might not even make it through the night."

Are they talking about me? I suddenly wonder. Who else could they be talking about? Nobody.

I feel my eyelids flutter a little bit. I can move them! I open my eyes...only to be greeted by darkness. All I can see is shadows.

Then everything starts to fill out slightly. The shadows become definite shapes, and brighten to colors. I open my eyes to see three older guys standing by the foot of my bed and an elderly man in the doorway. I try to lift my arm, but every limb of my body feels like it's being weighed down with lead.

"He's awake!" one of the men says, and the man who had been in the doorway spun around. I recognize him as a doctor by the stethescope around his neck. He walks over to the bed.

"You gave us all a little scare," he informs me, looking at the monitors. "Thought you were going to stay asleep for good." He jots something down on a chart.

"Baka," the red head mutters. I recognize his voice as the second person who had spoken.  "You're going to scare him."
Then the third, a younger, dark-haired guy, speaks. "Can we talk to him for a few minutes, doctor?"

The doctor turns and walks out of the room without a word. The three guys turn to me. The redhead takes the chair closest to the head of the bed and the other two pull chairs up next to him.

Why don't I remember who these guys are? Do I know them?

"You had us so worried, Omittchi," the blonde man begins.

"Why?" I ask plaintively. "Who are you?"

The redhead glances at the blonde briefly. "Don't you remember stabbing me in the leg? Do you remember anything? Getting in the Porsche and sticking yourself with those fucking darts..." his voice trails off as his violet eyes flicker with pain.

"I-I..." I stutter. I'm starting to see bits and pieces of something, flitting through my mind like movie clips.

/What the hell-/
/Put it down damn you you're not calling anyone/
/What the hell have you been doing Omi what the fuck-/
/Nobody cares thanks a lot dad I'm an orphan nobody cares/

And then I remember. I clearly remember every single second. The memories send chills down my spine.
"A-are you guys mad at me?"

The redhead, Aya, I remember, speaks up. "Yeah." he looks around the hospital room uncomfortably. "And as soon as you're better and they check you out of this hotel suite...I'm gonna really give it to you." He looks at me fondly. Something in that grin, a memory of happiness perhaps, stirs a rush of pure emotion in my heart, making my heart race faster. I just hope none of them notic the heart monitor. I can hear the beeps speed up. I cover everything up with a nonchalant smile.

"I'm glad you're angry at me. I don't mind if you yell."

Ken leans over and ruffles my hair. "We're just glad you're alive and here for us to be mad at instead of-"

"-rotting in a wood box six feet under the ground," Youji interrupts.

"Hai," Ken agrees and clears his throat.

"We better get going," Aya informs me. "Persia's still got us working tonight."

"Okay," I say cheerfully, even though I want to cling to him and never let him leave. No, don't leave me here, Aya. Please. I don't want to be alone again. It's what scares me most. More than anything else ever possibly could.

"See you tomorrow, Omi."

I try to wave, but my arm still hurts. "Bye," I whisper, even though they probably can't hear my faint voice. Aya is the last to leave. He stands in the doorway for a couple of seconds and then turns around and walks back over to the bed. To my surprise he leans over, his face only mere inches from mine. "Ai shiteru," he whispers softly, pushing strands of blond hair out of my face. He kisses me gently on the forehead and looks at me for a couple of seconds. Then he turns to leave without saying goodbye.

Aya, don't leave me here. You know I'm afraid of being alone.