ODE TO THE MURDERED, bonten

23

PART TWENTY-THREE !
lips upon blemished skins ii.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST." you stir awake to the sound of harsh whispers and you almost groan. despite the almost comfortable duvets that drowned your body—the effects of the medication that you took had you kicking the sheets, you heaved and gasp, your head a pounding ache that was constant. a soft-sort of grunt leaves your lips but your eyelids remain closed, heavy with fatigue and nausea. another pained noise erupts from your throat when you try shifting from your position, but svelte hands hover over to you, combing back bangs from your face, soothing you from your pain and you relax once again.

    a click of a tongue reaches your ears a moment later, and you can vaguely feel a few presence currently in the same room as you, but you don't dare move.

    "we take our eyes off of her for a few fucking seconds and this shit happens." you recognized Sanzu's irritated tone first, swimming in and out of your senses but you manage to catch onto their heated voices, their arguing overlapping one another.

    "no one would have known this would happen..." Rindou's murmur could be heard from the far end of the room.

    "within quarters too." Kokonoi adds.

    Sanzu's accusing voice speaks up again, "Ran, have you been lenient with the recruits in your attack division? how could you let this happen."

    "oh, so we are pointing fingers now?" the older Haitani huffs out, the fingers that were soothing your tendrils stop, then completely pulls away from you.

    "Koko said he was under your supervision and he crossed the line hurting the girl. if he was still alive i would've been stripping him, skin from skin." a deafening pause. "i would've also skinned you for being clumsy."

    a ruffled cloth, then a click of a gun. "don't start running your mouth Sanzu, and you have no right to call my brother clumsy or lenient."

    Mocchi hisses, "oi, guns off the boss' room assholes!"

    "if you're here just to cause a ruckus, then get out." an authoritative tone, then a door creaks open and the clatter of arguments fall in an instant.

    "and stop raising your voices, she might wake up."

    too late. you shake your head internally, but you wanted to cry in relief when Mikey intercepted, head already brewing statics that incoherent arguments from the men would just make it explode.

    but you wrestled with yourself. one: thinking of opening your eyes and sitting up to see who was sticking in Mikey's room or two: pretending to sleep and avoiding yourself with any minor disputes between the executives. you decided to choose the latter, burying yourself further into the sheets and forced yourself to fall back into the shadows. you cemented the idea even more when someone runs fingers through your hair again and you let the slumber drown your consciousness yet again.

    the next moment you wake is when you feel a firm hand on your shoulder, shaking you feebly. "y/n?" someone whispers and you groan, urging yourself to open your eyes and adjust it towards familiar red-white eyes filled with unreadable bereft.

    "you have to ice the injury." Kakucho frowns when you sit up and he sees the full view of the red marks, the blemishes and the minor yet terrible swell. his heart burned his entire chest but he swallowed it down. it took you a moment but you grabbed the pack from his grasp, pursing your lips and letting the coolness of the object marinate the searing wound. you sigh, lifting your gaze towards the clock and the ends of your lips downturn.