Ink Stained

66: Kyoto, day six (3)*

京都市、6日目

She was ripped out of herself when Shin collapsed, falling on his side to the floor with a quiet groan that almost escaped her ears.

At first she didn't know what was happening. Utter exhaustion rolled through her, coming out of nowhere, catching her completely unaware.

She lurched forward, hands slapping on the tatami mat as she gasped from the sharp pain of her hands shaking against the ground. The buzzing in her wrists was so intense that it was like her bones were shaking apart, disintegrating into sand that rubbed her skin the wrong way. Kuniumi wasn't there to take the pain away, or to keep her from experiencing the full strength of it.

Woozy, her eyes glazed over as she struggled desperately to reacquaint herself with the present, to remind her of where she was. Her stomach revolted at the jump between then and now, there and here, tightening painfully like her intestines were twisting to knots. Bile was an acidic aftertaste coating the back of her throat. She sat back on her haunches and clamped her hand over her mouth, afraid she was about to heave. She squeezed her eyes shut as she fought to get a hold of herself.

All concern of her own well-being vanished in an instant like shadows chased away by a burst of light as she spun around on her knees. Her moves were too fast and jittery. She slipped and scraped her elbows on the rough tatami mat, but she managed to keep her head from knocking on the ground as she gaped at what was behind her.

Shin lay flat on his back, sweat beading his forehead, lips parted as his breath shot out harshly. A furious scowl was drawn on his brows, and his skin was paler than she had ever seen. Tiny spasms rocked his frame, long limbs shivering with a cold that racked his whole body. He was unconscious, and that in itself was enough to blanch her skin as the blood drained from her face.

She wasn't sure she was seeing things right. Her sight was still hazy; her eyes watered and burned like she'd just been staring at the glare of the sun for far too long. When she closed her eyes, it still hurt. When she opened them, the pain remained.

It took blinking rapidly for a few seconds before the burning lessened just enough that she could keep her eyes open long enough for her brain to sluggishly register that Shin had collapsed. Her body moved on its own as she crawled on all fours to him, wincing when a hurt like splintering bones threatened to snap her wrists in half.

What...what happened? Her lower lip trembled as she knelt beside him. Why are your eyes closed?

Shin never, ever let his guard down if he could help it. Kouta once said that Shin barely slept because he hated that time when he wasn't aware of what was happening around him. He napped more than actually slept, oftentimes in the trees around Ayashi House. Kouta had never seen Shin asleep for longer than four hours, he'd once said.

"Shin," she wavered over him uncertainly. She pushed away the damp hair that fell over his forehead. Her hands fluttered uselessly, gently slapping at his cheeks as she tried to wake him.

Open your eyes.

He didn't.

"Shin?"

He didn't stir. His breath was laboured, as if there was a heavy weight crushing his chest. Alarmed at his total lack of response, she tapped his cheek harder, nudging him with her knuckles. No response. She laid the back of her hand over his cheek. His skin was ice cold. He was paler than she had ever seen him, his skin a seedy white.