Kentou - Justice

Description: Who are we to dole out death and judgement? A boy of high, child-like morals faces a question he, perhaps, should not have to face. Poor Hotaru was saved from the horrific killer Yamazaki by K', but only with that beast's presumed death. And now, Hotaru, recovering from grievous wounds, has to teach a truly hard lesson to her apprentice. Harder than throwing fire or striking with thunder. What should one do to protect those they love?



It was close. Left alone, she would have died in a pool of her own blood on the splintered wood of the Futaba Estate entry. And that's assuming her assailant simply let her bleed to death. In all likelyhood, he wasn't finished yet. K''s intervention and ministrations saved the girl a young death at the hands of a violent murderer, his call to the emergency services just in time for them to arrive and collect Hotaru before she would have slipped further into a sleep from which she might not have recovered. Hours have past since then.

Transfusions, stichings, and surgeries have been all she has known over the last eight hours as dawn breaks over the bustling city of Southtown. Stabilized after a couple of harrowingly close calls, the young celebrity has been left to rest in a private room in arguably the best hospital in the world for treating savage injuries. With a constant influx of fight induced wounds to tend to, it's hard to find a more capable staff of doctors, nurses, and emergency technicians in the world.

Given the girl's condition, her room would have been restricted to visits from 'Family Only.' But the orphaned girl's family history is a matter of some renown even among those who only casually follow the world of professional fighting and to mandate that only family members can visit is something that even the typically grumpy nurse at the front desk knows to be ridiculous. Instead, as Kentou would find, they were willing to allow friends of the girl in, as long as they genuinely looked the part... It wasn't unusual for convalescing fighters to find all manner of uninvited fans trying to sneak their way into their hospital rooms; anything for a photo or just to breath the same air of a worshipped fighter. They would also only let one person in at a time.

In fact, when Kentou first arrives, he's made to wait. Someone else is in the girl's room. Some time passes before the door opens and an older man, well dressed in an expensive suit. The executer of the Futaba Estate, he had found out about the girl's arrival when the hospital contacted the estate regarding her coverage. He rushed to be on sight. If the last known Futaba family member was about to pass away, he needed to be there to set things in motion should the worst happen. But as she stabilizes and is left to rest, the trusted family executor takes his leave, passing by the Ondori boy on his way out of the hospital, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he heads down the hall.

The nurse at the desk nods toward Kentou, letting him know he can go in to visit his friend, but that time is limited - she needs her rest. The private room is not bad as far as hospital rooms go. A single bed, a curtains-covered window overlooking a fountain in a the courtyard below. A mounted television; soft chairs around the wall. The room smells of hospital - sterilized air circulates through the ventillation. The temperature is cool - uninviting to infection. The sheets covering the bed-ridden girl are clean, white. With her injuries staunched, cleaned, stiched, and tended to, she's no longer bleeding all over the place.

The extent of her ordeal isn't immediately obvious at first glance. The worst of the injuries were blow the neck, and right now she's tucked beneath multiple sheets of white cloth, leaving only her face visible. An ugly bruise covers her right eye, the eyelids swelled shut. But she's no stranger to ugly shiners. No fighter should be. The girl's eyes are closed at first, but she isn't asleep at the moment. The sound of the door moving causes her to crack her eyes open a little before they slip close for a moment. Another second passes, a breath taken, a slow exhale, then she opens them again. The smile that creases her lips is tired but visible at the corners, "Kentou," she speaks, shuffling a little, pushing herself up higher on her pillow in order to be better propped up.

Fame has benefits that Kentou did not predict.
Sure... fortune, notoriety, prestige. But, more importantly, important people know who you are and what your presence means. In Kentou's case, important people aren't mayors or rockstars. Important people are crabby nurses and front desk clerks who recognize you at a glance and know precisely who he's here to meet.

Kentou never stopped running since hanging up on K'. Nearly crashing through the mechanical doors than waiting for them to slide open in their own good time, the boy plants his hands on the moving window panes. Briefly buckling a moment to gulp air as sweat pours down his face. His nicely pressed school uniform already needs to be cleaned and repressed from his mad sprint, but the state of his apparel is the furthest thing from his concerns. The school he's skipping out on? Completely forgotten. None of that matters right now.

As the youth vaults to the desk in two steps, already the lady ensconced within the office tells him to wait.

It takes five minutes for her to convince him to wait. Only repeated assurances that she's 'stable' does the boy finally relent. Seating himself in the hall with his legs folded to his chest, arms wrapped and face pressed to his knees. Rocking slowly.
Waiting. Waiting. GOD what's taking so long?? Who's she with?

As the executor finally leaves the room, Kentou's head bolts up. Eyes fixing him with a hard look of suspicion but says nothing. Who the man could be or what he represents, the youth can quickly guess. A man, very similar to that man, visited him after his Mother died. After his Father died. The suited man has come to represent the grim reaper to the boy--and while he doesn't personally know the man from Adam--He's come to hate what he represents. The boy stares him away, like a scarecrow banishing a murder of crows.

At the nurse's bidding, Kentou vaults from his chair, clearing half the hallway in a single bound and slips through the door in a blur of fluid motion.
Witnessing Hotaru in such a state freezes him in place. His bookbag inelegantly flopping from his hands and tumbling across the floor perhaps far too audibly. His breath catching in his chest as his dark eyes widen.
He's seen her beaten up before. He's seen her beaten, stabbed, battered and hacked.
He has never seen her hurt this terribly before. What kind of monster was this 'Ryuji' to do this to her? Covered in bandages? Bed ridden? She's fought the best in the world. -The best-. And he did -this- to her?
Her stillness implies slumber and Kentou belatedly tries to hold still. His breathing a slow, deliberate thing now as he cautiously crouches.. Fingers absently searching for the handle of his bag while his eyes never stray from the bedside. He can come back later.. He just.. Needed to see her-

"S..Sensei?" Kentou stammers as she whispers. His nearly tearful eyes meeting hers, only then does he seem to have permission for his heart to resume beating. Leaving his bag where it lay, he instantly is at her side. A hand reaching to touch her shoulder as lightly as possible, bidding her to remain laying where she is as he shakes his head silently.
Seeing that she's .. alive at any rate.. is almost enough for him to be happy. Nothing else really matters, when you boil it down. All the other worries or problems in the world are nothing when it comes to the people you truly care about teeter on the brink of life and death. This is something Kentou knows.. Far, far too well.

The falling bookback produces no reaction from the girl beyond the slow blink of acknowledgement; the uncertain focus from the tired blue eye that can fully open. Getting hit by a train may very well have put her in a condition less severe than this. Kentou speaks up and Hotaru is quiet. Her face is slow to reflect emotion, as if the strain of tugging at muscles in her face requires just a tad too much effort at the moment. His hand rests against her shoulder and she half closes her good eye for a moment.

She wonders how he found out, in the back of her mind, but it's hardly the most important thought at the moment. "Don't worry," she speaks up, managing that quiet smile in spite her condition, "I'll get better. I..." She tries lifting her head a little but ends up sinking back into the pillow, releasing a soft exhale of annoyance.

"I'll be all right," she reasserts with a grunt. Her right hand slips out from beneath the sheet, taking hold of the remote dangling from a white cord on the side of her bed. Fumbling with it for a moment, she finds the button to raise the top end of her bed up a little, making it easier for her to meet Kentou's gaze without having to crane her neck so. "There." she finishes with a soft, somewhat lopsided grin. "Spend enough time in these things and you get used to how they work."

"You're not missing any tests over this, are you?" she teases, closing her eye again, releasing the remote and resting her hand atop the white blanket. Her tone makes it clear that she isn't really worried about that. She opens her eye again and stares at the boy's face for a long moment. She wonders what he knows. He has to know she was attacked. Sanctioned fights almost never put a fighter in this kind of condition. There's limits, after all, to how far people will go in the circuits lest they find themselves banned from the only real outlet for their lust for battle.

She opens her mouth then closes it, biting back whatever she might have been about to say. Maybe this isn't the time to tell him the details. Maybe she shouldn't burden him with all that. "I'm not sure how long I'm going to be here. Might be a little while." she states after a moment, clearly not voicing whatever else it was she was about to say.

As Hotaru fusses with her arrangement on the configurable mattress, Kentou perches on a nearby chair. Crouching upon the cushion to maintain an angle more suitable for communication without requiring her to rejigger the bed quite so much. Somewhat mindful of the nurse's warning that the visit must be short and not wanting to jostle her much more from her needed rest.
An urge drives Kentou to reach for her hand.. Then a pang of remembrance strikes him.
A hospital bed, so much like this one. His mother. Laying so much like that. Cold.. Cold fingers.
The boy's hand jerks away from Hotaru's.. Swiftly recovering the motion by stroking his braid over his shoulder, trying to make it seem as natural as possible. Don't think about that now.. Don't even think..

"I.. I'm glad.. The nurse said.. They said you'd be.. be alright now.." Reiterating Hotaru's own words, acknowledging them even if the truth is far from those reassuring words. Many unknowns still linger now. She may 'live' but that doesn't mean she'll ever fight again. That she can live the life she wants to. That this won't diminish her somehow or force her to move away.

At her little jest at his missed schoolwork, the boy's eyes widen. Glimmering in momentary shock, as if realizing for the first time that he well and truly has ditched school this morning. ...Wasn't there supposed to be a quiz today? Or two? ... The surprise slowly gives way to a wane smile, chuckling under his breath as he bows his head. Fingers fidgeting with the edge of the bedsheets as he says nothing further on that matter. He'll deal with that later.. Its unimportant right this moment.

Perhaps sensing Hotaru's question, Kentou softly adds, "..I called your cellphone this morning.. K' picked up... He ... He told me you were here. He told me what happened.. He.." His voice fails. A tempest of emotion roils behind his vacant eyes. Hands tightening their grip of the sheet, uncertain of what else to say. What else to confirm, ask or say. He knows much of the truth, if perhaps not the complete truth.
That Hotaru may be here awhile and disrupt her fighting schedule seems like the most trivial and useless point he could bring up. Right now.. He just hopes she'll be able to fight again. That Ryuji won't have the last laugh.. Ultimately.

After some adjustments of bed, seating, perching alike, the two end up at in agreeable positions for Hotaru to look at Kentou clearly without too much discomfort. She does her best to assuage his concerns. Promises of being okay, of getting out at some indeterminant point. But the details not even she knows. The injuries, physical, were deep, the killer's hand literally plowing into her side. There's injuries of another type as well. The nightmares. The fear of the quiet, of being alone. She tells herself that she will get over that, that she won't be affected. But in her heart, she doubts that is possible. That doubt is kept surpressed for the young teen, however.

She blinks slowly as he mentions her cell phone. "H-he did?" she stammers, sounding confused. "I wonder what he took it for..." she muses, looking away from Kentou for a moment before shaking her head, "No matter." Trying to figure out that mystery can wait. Her attention shifts back to young Ondori, her expression having become far more grave as it becomes clear that the truth of her harrowing experience has already been shared. He would have had to find out eventually. Perhaps K' did her a favor in sparing her the need to explain what happened in detail.

"Y-yes, then you know." she stammers, not having expected him to come so well armed with the story of what transpired. "The most frightful man I've ever seen. He broke into my house last night and-" Her voice cuts out, her eye closing, the hand resting atop of her sheet tightening into a small fist. "K' saved me though. I don't know why he was..." She opens her eye, staring intently at the sheet top for a moment, "Hm... that's why he took my phone, that's right..." She shakes her head, focusing back on Kentou again.

"It's okay. It's over now." She manages the traces of a weary smile, "It will be all right. There's nothing to worry about now." She sinks a little against the pillow, releasing a pent up sigh of whispered relief. For all that happened to her, she seems to be in a state of peaceful reflection. No pent up anger over the assault. None of that brief flash of wishing she could send the monster to the abyss with that loathsome technique she had sworn to never touch again. "I was really fortunate... That he came when he did..."

The youthful apprentice knows the broad strokes of what transpired. The whys and wherefores are still a complete mystery to him.. but such levels of intrigue are beyond his kin. Such simplicity proves a boon, as the youth does not question why this horrible monster sought her out. It is enough that he has been stopped.. Though.
The question remains..
Kentou nods gently as she stammers her acknowledgement. Her confusion over the fate of the handheld device is a bit surprising at first brush, but understandable as the youth takes a moment to realize its not altogether unexpected. She must feel so confused in general.. Its amazing how serene she looks, even bandaged with her eye blackened.
Still, as she corroborates K's story, the boy's head tilts more. His eyes straying from her as they affix to her tightened fist. Lingering there as his thoughts continue to circle around that single hard question.
It is not appropriate to ask right now.. Not with her contented to simply be alive. He'd rather preserve that smile as long as he is able and allow concerns and worries.. just fall by the wayside.

But that is not going to be possible.
The police will need statements. There is a -body- in Hotaru's house that must be explained. Kentou.. Can't lie. Deceit is not in his nature, not even for the sake of helping others. And there lies the crux of his indecision.
To say nothing of the small matter of...
"...What.. What will we do.. a.. about K'.." Kentou slowly ventures. The words wrestles themselves free, regardless of how hard he tries to remain silent. His eyes never meet Hotaru's own.. He can't now. Not when his principles force him to condemn her savior.

She falls quiet after having spoken. Dredging up more things to talk about isn't exactly easy for her at the moment. Which leaves Kentou to stew for a long, silent moment as he works his way toward voicing that question on his mind. Lost in her own thoughts, she doesn't seem to notice, her attention slowly drawn back toward the far wall opposite the end of her hospital bed. Paintings of framed flowers are mounted there. Simple, generic artwork meant to break up the monotony of the otherwise one-tone walls, floor, and ceiling of the room.

But Kentou speaks up eventually and the girl shifts her single eyed gaze back toward him, blinking once softly as he seems to take a moment to get the question out. "Well," she muses, brow furrowing, looking a little confused at the question. She takes in a deep breath, turning her face back toward the ceiling above, as if searching it for the proper answers to his question.

The slow beep of the machines hooked up to the girl are the only noise for a long moment as she seems to ruminate upon his inquiry. "Well," she repeats the word, "I don't really know yet. I did what I could at the time - in having him take my phone to help with what he needed, but... We'll have to think of some way to thank him properly." she decides after a belabored moment of thought. "Though it's hard to imagine what could possibly be appropriate for something like that..." She turns her head to the side a little to look toward Kentou once more, "Do you think money would really convey it properly? It seems so shallow," she muses, lost in her own thoughts for a moment.

That Hotaru doesn't immediately grasp his train of thought, the boy issues a worried murmur. Only then does his eyes lift to hers, worry etched into his features as he all but cuts off her quiet musings, "He killed him. K' told me he killed him!.." Realizing his voice was raised perhaps a bit too high, he flinches. Nervously looking back over his shoulder to the doorway, hoping there wasn't a passing nurse at that particular moment before looking back to her. Leaning a bit closer now to keep his voice down as he stammers quickly, "W.what do I do? I don't know what to do.. He.. I know he saved you.. I can't even imagine what.. what could have... I don't.. I.." Trembling fingers gripping the edge of the bed-sheet once again, "But he.. we can't just.. he can't just.. that .. we don't do that.. Not even to.. We can't be like them.. We can't be like that.. There had to be another way.. he had him beat.. he didn't have to.. we can't let that just.. just.."
The confusion and anxiety pouring out of him now. No longer holding back his desperate inquisition. Emotions getting away from him, inflamed by hours of being worried sick about her. Worried sick about her future and about what he should do.
What happens when a murderer is a hero? Can one be both things? Is that even possible?

Her one good eye widens at the outburst but the girl becomes calm again quickly. She's quiet, staring at Kentou, not judging, but clearly no longer confused. She knows now what troubles him. She nods slightly after his initial outburst, clarifying that he isn't telling her something she doesn't already know well enough. But she doesn't cut him off, leaving him to ramble, spilling forth his scattered thoughts faster than his mind can seem to keep up with them.

"Hmm..." she answers quietly, looking away, eyes coming to rest on the far wall again, a shiver coursing along her spine as she's forced to think back upon the prior night far more intensely than she had needed to since passing out on her bathroom floor. "He did save me." she states, her voice gentle but stern. "To do so, he had to have beaten him. I don't..." she frowns a little. There are details she doesn't know about. How did Yamazaki die? When, exactly? "I don't know what happened. I wasn't conscious to see any of it. He could have killed him in the process of trying to fight him off. He told me he was dead when he was giving me first aid."

She frowns a little, weighing more how to answer the boy than the gravity of what K' had done. She blinks slowly, trying her best to understand the boy's perspective. "Kentou..." She wants to reach out for him, to rest her hand on his shoulder, to tell him not to worry about such things. "I never did anything to provoke that attack. That man, he-... he was intent on what he was there to do." She can imagine what that might have been, and her stomach twists at the thought. "I couldn't defend myself from him." She pauses then, frowning a little. "If he came back again, I wouldn't be able to stop him." Her voice is solemn, her focus on him unwavering as she speaks. "Considering the state I saw K' in... he appeared to have barely managed it himself."

She's quiet then, not sure what to say next. A number of thoughts going through her mind but no where seems to be concern over what the young man did on her behalf. He snuffed out a vile monster, a thing more beast than man. He made it so that she can sleep again at night without wondering if her door may yet be bashed through for a repeat visit, for him to finish the jbo that was interrupted. "The world is full of predators, Kentou. Some of them animal, some of them people. A lion isn't committing murder in slaying a hyena to defend his cubs from the scavanger's teeth. He defends life that cannot save itself." Her voice trembles with emotion as the true magnitude of her gratitude to K' forces its way to the surface. She couldn't save herself. She was going to die. Maybe not even immediately. She couldn't fight back. That man could have done anything before she died. That sense of feeling helpless, of having her life denied her, cut short by that filthy beast that didn't deserve a shread of the power he seemed to command. Her arm shakes a little, her fist white-knuckle tight.

"We don't need to lie. We shouldn't hide what we know. What K' did was to defend me. Justice will see that." She looks away, eye narrowed, fixated on the far wall again. There's something else she's so close to saying. It's visible in her one opened eye. But for some reason, she refrains, her mouth pressed tightly closed.

For all of Kentou's great progress and indepth training, for all of his wisdom relative to his youth.. He is still just a boy. On the very cusp of manhood. He does not fully comprehend the complexities of an adult world. All he knows is that bad guys kill.. The good guys find another way. Shades of grey hardly exist in Kentou's world.
The young apprentice is almost in a state of panic. Luminous eyes pleading her, begging her to tell him what to do. Perhaps now, more than ever, he truly needs her guidance. She was correct in a previous assessment she had before.. The hardest part of teaching Kentou is not how to fight. That's easy.
The hardest part is teaching how to live. What honor means. What sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. That sometimes.. In the name of self-defense.. One must make a hard choice.
Kentou's thoughts go back to his spat with Jiro. Distrusting the young man for killing someone to save his sister. He remembers then, the vitriol Kentou heaped upon him. Once someone crosses that line they can never be fully trusted, Kentou believed. It's a black mark that never goes away, no matter how many good deeds you do since. One can spend their entire life seeking redemption for a single, fatal mistake.

The boy's panic freezes solid as Hotaru shivers. The tortured emotion is audible in her tone, in her eyes.. At once he is ashamed.
So much that he worried about what HE thinks, what HE would do.. He was blind to Hotaru's pain. Her feelings. The terror behind her words. Her accounting relegating this Ryuji to have more in common with jackals then men.
A agonized breath escapes Kentou's lips as his hands immediately cover her clenched fist. The warmth in his fingers trying desperately to dispel the cold fear his words invoked. "I..I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. pl..please.. Rest.. J..Just rest. I sh.. I shouldn't have said.. anything. Y.." A swallow, "..You're right.." His head bows as he sinks into his chair, face veiled beneath his wild jungle of bangs while the corners of his lips tremble, "..Y.. You're right."
It seems, the boy may have been more correct than he knew. He is afraid for her future, but not because of lingering physical injury. But the injury of the mind. Her confidence broken. She was supposed to be one of the greatest fighters in the world, and she was nearly helpless before that man. A sobering realization for anyone. Especially a young woman who's historical sense of self-worth has not been that strong.

Unfortunately, part of learning from the girl involves, perhaps, absorbing some elements of her morals. Morals skewed by the desire to survive, to live against all odds. To not be robbed of life, to be denied the opportunities it promises. All she can do is teach him what is right and wrong from her perspective. It's all anyone can do. The ultimate questions are not easy to restrict to simple answers - a harsh fact Kentou will have to struggle with as he continues to grow.

She turns toward him as he speaks up again, his hands hands coming to rest atop her clenched fist. He stammers, sorry for bringing the subject up, sorry for causing her to have to think back on that event of only scant hours past. He acknowledges her point of view, telling her that she's right, but the girl isn't convinced. Her other hand, up until now hidden beneath the sheets, slips out, coming to rest over both of his hands with surprising firmness, as if not even giving him the chance to pull away if he would want to.

"Kentou..." She speaks up, starting at her student intently with that single visible, azure eye. "Don't feel bad for bringing it up. You were right to question the situation. It is not a trivial thing and I wish I had realized how much of a shock it would be for you to have found out about all this in so little time..." She pauses, swallowing.

She didn't want say anything more on it, which was why she had paused, biting her tongue moments before. But there is one final point to make, and she can't refrain from making it now. "I want you to know that if... you were threatened like I was, that if someone was going to h-hurt you in the same way..." Her grip tightens further, "There is nothing I wouldn't do to save you, even... even if you could never forgive me for it."

She relaxes her hand then, allowing it to slip off to rest atop the sheet, the fervor and intensity slipping from her slowly as she lowers her gaze to the top of her bed. "It might be wrong. I can't tell you that you should act the same if faced with such a horrible decision. That's for you to decide because it is up to you to live with the outcome. But it's the truth. I wouldn't be able to live with myself were I to do otherwise..."

His Sensei speaking his name silences him. A sharp inhale as his mousy eyes alight, his hands remain pinned beneath hers--motionless.
The youth has certainly known that answers are not easy things to find. If his months of training has taught him anything, its that the truly important things are never simple. However, one thing he has come to rely upon is her wisdom. Especially in times of duress, especially when he is confused over the truth. She has never let him down and he owes her everything. Perhaps, her truth is more nuanced and one-sided than even he acknowledges... But he will not question it. In some ways, the boy is unmolded clay. Gullible, others would say. He gives others the benefit of the doubt in most situations, to say nothing of his beloved teacher.

At her absolution of his sins of selfishness, his shoulders sinks as if a great weight had been shrugged aside. He slowly shakes his head then, "I.. I should have waited at least.. I.." Offering that much, even if she forgives his asking the question in the first place. Hammering her with an inquisition mere hours after major surgeries does not seem terribly fair of him, as he puts it all in perspective.
Which is when she assails him with an entirely new perspective.
His darker eyes move to her single pool of sapphire and lock with that gaze as she haltingly issues an ultimatum. A declaration of what she would do to protect him.
She'd ... Kill someone ... To protect him?

Kentou supposes the notion shouldn't seem as far-fetched as it hits him. Of course she'd protect her student. Of course she'd protect anyone! She's Hotaru.
But the way she said it.. She should know by now that Kentou would forgive her anything. Anything. She nearly killed him herself, and he found it in him to forgive her. But that was being haunted by inner demons.. That was madness guiding her, she was not herself. This is different. ... And he doesn't really think its wrong. In an ideal world... Perhaps it should be. But this is not an ideal world. Those who cannot accept that are doomed to madness in the end, just as Hotaru herself had nearly fallen. Kentou can start to see that end now.. Feel it tugging at his mind, pulling his thoughts this way and that.

This is Hotaru, and in his mind she can do no wrong. She's proven that she can look true evil in the eye and always do the right thing. If even she, if the roles were different and she was as K' coming to save Kentou as Hotaru.. She would behave no different. It may be a crazy world to allow for such incompatible ideals to be side by side... But that's the way things are.

As Hotaru's hand slips from Kentou's own, they simply fall away like leaves from a tree. Palms upward to the ceiling as nearly all strength leaves his arms. He feels strangely tired then.. Perhaps all the adrenaline of his cross-town dash and urgent need to see Hotaru in person has finally worn away leaving him with fatigue, both physical and emotional. As her gaze lowers, his own becomes free to do likewise. Forced now to internally reflect over her lingering words and ask the unspoken question.
Would Kentou do the same thing as K' if the situation was reversed? Would he have killed Ryuji to save Hotaru? ...
"...I...I guess.. I guess so.." Kentou breathes weakly, "... I'd... I'd never let anything happen to you.. If I could I.. I would. I would too.. I mean.."

Having said what she felt he needed to know, the girl remains quiet. Tired; rather, exhausted, pushed far beyond her physical limits in the last ten hours, just hanging in long enough to share that final thought with the boy was a challenge. Her head aches, deep pains cousing through her torso, only somewhat numbed by the pain medications she's been given.

But she's still listening. A fact that becomes abundantly clear as Kentou speaks up. Forced to realize that he may some day be faced with just such a situation, forced to bear the crushing weight, a magnitude that defies being expressed in mere words, he speaks softly, haltingly, working his way through the matter. And as he does, a single tear gathers in the corner of the girl's eye. She blinks once, opening it again, "Let's... let's never let that happen." she speaks up again, her voice a whisper now, a hint of smile on her lips for a fleeting moment. If only life were so simple as to be able to guarentee that, she seems to suggest.

He shouldn't have to do that for her, but to expect him to not be able to when she has made it so clear that she would have no choice but to do whatever it took to save him if faced with such a scenario would be foolish. "I'm sorry, Kentou," she speaks up again, sinking further into her pillow, eye closing, this time for the last time for now. "...for bringing something like this into your life."

She exhales a quiet sigh, a long, pained exhale, a release of tension, stress, and pain. "I'm sorry." she murmurs, repeating the apology. "I'm sorry K' had to do what he did to save me. I... should have been strong enough. But it will be okay... just need to get better..." She's drifting off fast, the sedatives, pain killers, and just exhaustion caused by the injuries mostly hidden by the sheets and bandages all catching up with her at once.

It must have been right about when the nurses were expecting the young fighter to reach her limits, too, for the door opens not long after, the woman from outside peeking her head in to check on the two. Noticing the girl seems to have drifted off again, she shifts her focus to the braided boy, giving him a sympathetic smile, "She needs her rest... but if you promise to stay quiet, you can stay with her for a while longer..." She dips her head, withdrawing, allowing the door to close quietly.

For a moment there, Kentou had nearly forgotten just how truly hurt Hotaru was. She had mustered so much conviction and emotion, even terribly wounded, that the youth felt like he was back at the dojo. Now, with the Sensei having said her peace, the terribly injured girl reveals herself once again. Glancing up past his bangs to see her revealed vulnerability, the boy tries his best to hazard a faint smile. Hopeful now, with at least some peace of mind.
At least, they don't have to worry about Ryuji any more.
"No.. Lets not.." Kentou softly whispers. Fingertips touching her relaxed fist once more before gently drawing back into his seat. No sense in worrying about what may or may not be. Right now? Hotaru will be alright. And that is all he really needs to know.

"Hah.." The youth blurts as she actually apologizes to him. To Him! As if he was the one laid out on the gurney with grievous wounds, "Well.. I.. I'm sorry that this happened to you. At all.." Honestly and plainly spoken. He watches her now, his dark eyes following the subtleties of her expression and posture. Knowing that she's beginning to drift off.. The boy slowly reaches over and takes the cabled remote. Adjusting the bed back to a more horizontal position, in which he found her, as gently as the machine permits. "Just rest.. Just rest."

As the door open and the nurse is revealed, Kentou's gaze never strays from Hotaru as he knowingly begins to rise.. Only to pause as the woman completes her sentence. Looking to her with an audible blink, the boy replies with a brightened, thankful smile and a hasty bob of his head. Settling back down into his chair and folding his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms about them. Watching over her as a quiet sentinel.
Hotaru never need worry of being alone.

Log created on 21:45:39 10/26/2008 by Kentou, and last modified on 03:20:35 10/29/2008.