CW:Graphic violence, blood, trauma themes, medical trauma, past physical violence, intense injury descriptions (a lot).
Jin's grip stayed firm, pinning Kuro against the soaked concrete. "Medic—now!" he barked over his shoulder. Two men surged forward, unfolding a stretcher and trauma kit. Rain sheeted down as they worked, cutting away Kuro's bloodied tracksuit.
Hikari jerked her gaze away as the medics sliced through Kuro's ruined tracksuit, shame and nausea churning in her gut. 〖Don't look. Don't remember.〗 But morbid curiosity—or perhaps the horrifying gravity of what he'd endured—made her glance back for a fleeting second.
It was worse than she imagined.
His torso was a landscape of ruin. Angry purple bruises bloomed over older, silvery scars—fractured ribs visibly pressing against torn skin, fresh blood welling from the head wound where bone glinted wet and pale.
She squeezed her eyes shut, bile rising. The image burned: the older man beneath him in the alley, the unnatural stillness. Kuro hadn't just found violence tonight. He'd walked straight into its teeth.
Jin's face confirmed it. His usual stoicism shattered into raw anguish as he watched the medics work. They moved with practiced speed, but their hands trembled slightly when they peeled back fabric soaked dark red. One medic flinched as his gloved fingers brushed Kuro's shattered left rib cage. Kuro's body arched off the stretcher with a guttural, unconscious groan—a sound of pure, animal agony that made Hikari flinch violently.
The lead medic cursed under his breath, withdrawing his hand like he'd been burned. "Apologies, Boss," he muttered, though Kuro was far beyond hearing. They worked faster now, packing gauze against the head wound, strapping his chest with rigid splints. Blood soaked through the bandages almost instantly.
All their movements were precise, but Hikari saw the tremor in their hands. Saw how they avoided looking directly at Kuro's face.
The lead medic swore again, pressing a thick wad of gauze against the oozing head wound, then barked, "Systolic's dropping—get the plasma expander!" Another man ripped open a foil packet with his teeth, readying an IV line while the third tightened chest straps to immobilize the shattered ribs. Before they could proceed, one of the medics quickly placed an oxygen mask over Kuro's face, securing it tightly. The sound of the oxygen flowing filled the air, a desperate attempt to stabilize him. Kuro's breathing hitched—wet, shallow gasps that misted the cold air.
Jin's voice cut through the downpour like a blade—low, urgent. "Pressure's tanking! Get the line in!" Rain sluiced off the SUV's roof as the other medic jammed a needle into Kuro's forearm, threading the IV with ruthless precision. Kuro didn't flinch. Only the shallow, wet rattle in his chest proved he still clung to life.
Hikari's fist pressed harder against her mouth—knuckles white, nails carving half-moons into her palm. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images seared behind her eyelids: the jagged bone beneath torn flesh, the wet, sucking sound as medics peeled back soaked gauze. Bile burned her throat.
Antiseptic—sharp and chemical—clashed violently with the raw copper stench of Kuro's blood as they swabbed his skin. One medic paled, hovering over the exposed rib fracture. "Pneumothorax risk," he hissed, voice tight. "If we jostle him—"
"Then don't fu##### jostle him!" Jin snarled, his hand braced against the stretcher rail, knuckles bloodless. His gaze never left Kuro's face—a mask of terrifying tranquility.
Hikari forced her eyes open, anchoring herself only to Kuro's features—the only part of him untouched by frenzy. Rainwater beaded on his lashes. His skin stretched taut and pale, like parchment held to weak light. His lips—bruised and split—parted slightly with each ragged gasp fogging the oxygen mask. That unnatural serenity held, undisturbed by the medics' sharp commands, the hiss of the plasma expander, Jin's low, furious curses. It was the peace of a man who'd glimpsed the edge and found it strangely welcoming.
〖Is this what he meant?〗 Hikari thought, her own breath catching.
〖The same stars… the same quiet?〗
"Stabilized—barely," the lead medic announced, taping down the final bandage over his collarbone. "Move him. Now."
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