𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐩 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐈𝐗

Saturday places a jar of Nevermore's original '𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗗𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬' down onto a white tabletop.

He sighed, as his obsidian eyes moved to his target. "I harvested hive number three."

The monitor beeps, Eugene was lying on the hospital, strapped to the ventilator, those two thick tubes connected to the huge white machine. The unconscious boy showed no signs of waking up.

Saturday stared down at his fellow beekeeper, standing with his long, lean arms at his sides. The long black overcoat over his broad shoulders paired with his monotone school uniform without context, could easily be mistaken for funeral attire. 

Unusually, he was alone, and even more unusually, he felt lonely.

"The bees miss you, Eugene." he says quietly. "Misaki misses you."

Her name slipped out of his mouth before he realized it. That delicate sound made his heart flutter, then ache unbearably, with the stark knowledge that she wasn't his.

Eugene replied with unconscious, labored breathing, a tan hand placed flat on his stomach and the hospital blue blankets. A large, but scabbed scratch was on his hand, and several more injured but healing wounds were on his face. The boy was wearing the typical turquoise loose, long sleeved hospital gown.

Saturday's usually sharp obsidian eyes softened. "We all do." And though his pale, cold face remained stoic his tone was gentle. His luscious black bangs were immaculate as usual, parted in the middle of his forehead.

Thing tapping on top of the monitor with his dirty nails made the boy tear his eyes away from Eugene.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on him." the handsome, tall, pale black haired boy said up to his big, severed hand as he stepped closer to the hospital bed. He knew what happened to witnesses without supervision.

Thing crouched down slightly, bending his fingers, acknowledging his gratitude. 

"Any updates?" his young Master's tone immediately became all-business like.

Thing wobbled from one side to the other on top of the smooth, white flat metal surface, propped right next to the monitor's screen, showing all the patient's necessary vitals.

The usual cold look returned to Saturday's eyes. "He didn't deserve this." his clever, shining obsidian eyes looked back down. "I should be in that bed."

"Why did you go without me?" he asked woefully but helplessly to the unconscious boy.

Eugene's breathing was all that he got for an answer.

Suddenly, Thing started tapping like crazy, trying to get his young Master's attention.

"What's so important to go ballistic for?" Saturday's cold voice pierced through his sporadic tapping.

Thing made an 'm' shape using his forefinger, his middle finger and his ring finger.

"I know she's not here." he glared directly at Thing, who hid cautiously behind the monitor's screen. 

The severed hand peeked out to point a long pale forefinger at the boy.

"I don't know why she ran off." he says, in a defeated tone.

Suddenly, the boy felt a cool hand touch his shoulder.

He gasps as he jumps in surprise and turns around, very visibly fazed, his flexible eyes manoeuvring and taking in two male strangers, one thin and one round, both at the same height, around his own.

A tanned, black sleeved hand retracts itself from his shoulder.

"Didn't mean to startle you, dear." a deep voice says gently behind him.