After an intense argument, Makoto stormed out of the house and drove off. Sousuke thought he'd never come back, and he didn't.
The next day he's called into hospital.
Makoto is in a coma from a terrible car crash. His life could end at any moment...
I can't breathe. I drop my mobile from my ear and listen to it fall against the floor. Everything slows down, my heart stops thrumming against my chest. My blood goes cold.
I growl and slam my fist against the wall, causing afew photos to fall off of the wall and smash on the floor. I run a hand through my hair, I'll clean this up later, I grab my motorbike keys and dash out of our apartment. I straddle the leather seat, as I always do, and pull on my helmet.
I kick off and start driving to the hospital.
The woman on the phone had said that Makoto had been in a serious road accident. He'd hit a truck side on, luckily he'd apparently tried to turn the car away from the truck, not killing him instantly. But they told me that he might not make it through the night.
I pull up at the hospital and quickly pay the fining ticket for my bike and run into the hospital.
"Mr. Yamazaki?" A doctor asks.
"Yes, where's my partner?" I pant for my breath.
"He's right through here, we contacted you after keeping him in surgery for a while. Do you know why he was speeding? Or why he wasn't focuses?"
The argument.
"Oh god," I rub my eyes. "This is all my fault?"
"Sir?"
"We had an argument." I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Can I just see him?"
"Room 10."
I run off and skid down the halls until I find his room. I step inside. It's silent, only his heart monitor is beating slowly. The way to recognise my boyfriend is his sandy hair, even that is blood stained. There are pieces of glass on the medical tray, they obviously forgot to take them. His face is swollen and cut, a bandage around half of his face. I'm afraid that behind that bandage there is something terrible, why else would they cover it up? He has a cast on his right arm and on both of his legs.
I'm afraid he probably won't be able to swim properly again. I know he'll be left with scars, but we can deal with those, and the emotional scars that will be left behind.
I'm afraid he won't want me.
I'm afraid he won't make it.
I wish I could trade places with him, I'd rather it be me then be him going through the pain he is. I need him, oh god, I need him so bad! If he dies, I don't think I'll be able to live without him.
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