FORGIVING [tomioka giyuu]

nineteen

The small jar on his low desk is empty, Giyuu's mouth growing dry and nervously shaking the bottle.

There was no way he had used more than one every morning, and one during the night.

He didn't want a repeat of what happened, vomiting of sleep medicine and nearly overdosing. It was scary, and his breaths were only slightly labored as he shook the bottle once again.

He hoped, he hoped that he didn't repeat history. Because the pitiful looks, the sickly smell of cleanliness that always came with hospitals. It was gross, and Giyuu didn't want that again.

"..f.. fuck." He stuttered out, securing the fact that his monthly dose was.. gone. It's not like he relied on it, it's just that he didn't know— he didn't know where it went?

Gosh, cussing was never his favorite, but it was just so easy to put all his emotions into one single word.

He should have at least two more, yet shaking it wouldn't make them magically appear.

Tangerine rubbed her head against his knee once again, spreading fur on his pajamas as she meowed, asking. She was asking if he was okay, and received a gentle pet on her colorful fur.

"No," he murmured, plucking the feline up and pressing her against his chest, enjoying the warmth as his lips refrained from trembling. "No I'm not."

He only got a meow in response, paws massaging his chest as she stretched out. It's as if she wanted to be his blanket, small body flattening as the man laid against the floor, his eyes burning into the ceiling.

He finally gets up, an hour later only to dress and make himself a bit more presentable. He needs his medicine after all, he was devoted to being better.

That's why he sits in a familiar squeaky wooden chair, facing the small medic-in-training as she took his pill jar and analyzed the sheet order for medicine.

"Did we not give you enough?" Aoi murmured, checking her list carefully. "I'm sure you should've received your monthly thirty-five."

The wary look he received stung, as if she didn't believe his words. Then again, who would believe a sad excuse like him, that he didn't compulsively take more than necessary?

Giyuu's hands gripped the fabric of his uniform pants, trying to find a reason why.

He couldn't blame them, he should've counted the amount he received, he was wasting resources just being in this very room. He was wasting air that Aoi could breathe, he was taking up room that another troubled person could have.

He was a waste, he shouldn't have even made the journey to the estate, but the medicine was really helping him and he was sure— he was sure that he didn't do anything irrational! He was sure.

"I-I'm sorry," he forced out, eyes darting to the floor as his body shook only slightly. "..orry,"

A small hand pressed against his pale hand, the girl offering a smile to the older man.

"Don't be sorry," she hummed, "you were right about the amount being incorrect, you only received thirty-three. I'll refill it for you with the proper amount so you'll be prepared for next month."

"O-oh.."

"It's my fault for not giving you the right amount."

A paper was procured before him, showing boxes of data, chicken scratches and hurried notes that were beyond Giyuu's understanding. He stared at his prescription record, dates and amounts he received written in neat handwriting. No doubt Shinobu's, the woman even leaving comments, both negative and positive.

Though the positive comments were backhanded.

"I.. it's actually a mistake?"

His voice must've sounded dull, but to Aoi; it was uncertain. She nodded though, lips curling as she popped open the seal of the bottle.

Plopping some of the white pills into the jar, the product rattling as it filled it to the brim, of course; Aoi counted carefully.

"Take care of yourself Tomioka-san, I'll make sure Kocho-san tends to you next time." Aoi signed the most recent recording box, labeling the date and time Giyuu has received the medicine.

".. thank you."

She gave one more smile, albeit a bit awkward. She never really smiled, but Tomioka sorta gleamed and it was infecting.

"Of course." She sternly replied, closing the door behind her when the Water Hashira exited, the two waving bye and in better spirits than they had entering.

If Aoi had saw Giyuu give himself a literal pat on the back and watched him cuddle a black, orange, and white cat; she didn't question it, too busy over how empty Giyuu's eyes were today.

They were different, nothing in them. They usually glimmered, with previous happiness or in positive thought, yet it was like seeing him for the first time again.

Sad.

"And here I thought he was getting better." She murmured, eyes darting away from the window and back to the duties of tending to the ill.

It's not her responsibility to play the part of a healer for Tomioka-san, but it was nice.