iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

I USED THE WRONG TAG FOR BAKUGOU IT'S DOMBOTTOM BAKU AMBSISSH MY BAD

040

Though he wrestles the demand mentally, his mind can't win. Within seconds, his head lolls to the side and he's out and doesn't wake until the following morning.

0130

Eijirou chokes around a breath, his body disregarding his own commands and following the stranger's. His eyes droop and he tries to fight the urge, yelling at himself to stay awake. It's as if the guy uses some sort of spell on him.

The guy's other hand comes up to remove the bag between his lips. A trail of saliva follows it but Eijirou doesn't pay mind to it. Eijirou can't stop staring. Then the man's lips part, and for the first time, Eijirou hears him speak. “Sleep, Kirishima.”

1101

It's the same as at the bar, except instead of a glass in front of him, a bag of dark red liquid sits between sharp teeth, bright ruby eyes glowing in the darkness. He can feel his heart beat faster. His throat clicks as he swallows. His retort dissolves on his tongue, unable to look away.

That isn't ice. He goes still when he comes face to face with a guy that definitely isn't part of hospital staff. In fact, he looks familiar. The blond hair. Fair skin. The fingers touching his flesh and pressing down more on his pulse.

190

He jolts in surprise as ice runs across the span of his neck, and rests on his pulse point. What the fuck do they think they're doing?! He's ‘asleep’, but think they can put something cold on a patient? His eyes shoot open, frustration taking control and he blurts, “What the hell is your prob… lem…”

190

But this person in particular doesn't have loud shoes. No, now they're very quiet. The reason he knows they're in here is the rustling of something at the end of his bed getting closer.

And now they're in here again, doing who knows what. Eijirou stifles a groan of irritation. Why can't they peek inside and see if he's alright? Why do they have to walk hard and be so loud? It's like whoever is in charge of him hates their job.

The more he got interrupted, the more his tolerance began to wane. His mask had been removed a couple hours ago, as his levels were where they wanted them, but everything else remained.

×××× Someone is in his room. Between the time he began resting, people kept coming in and out to check on Eijirou, making it difficult for him to fall unconscious all the way.

190

With the weight of the blanket and a somewhat content stomach, he closes his eyes and lets sleep take him.

His eyes sting. He's still very tired, even more so now that his tummy is “full”. Readjusting the mask on his face for the second time, he pushes the table aside and presses the button on the remote to lower the bed. If he has no choice but to sleep here, he'll make it as comfy as he can.

As expected, the broth isn't anything to boast about. He mixes in the crackers to help give it some sort of flavor. He checks his phone between mouthfuls and messages his parents back, and gives Mina an update. He tells her not to worry and will let her know once visitors are allowed.

He pulls it forward so it's in front of him and she can place the food and drink down. “Take moderate sips and call us on the remote if you feel unwell. Once you're done, push the table to the side. We'll come get it.” Eijirou watches her exit and finally digs in.

The nurse comes back about twenty minutes after the doctor leaves the room, holding a bowl of broth and a package of saltine crackers, a bottle of room-temp water under her arm. “Here you go, Mr. Kirishima. This should help.” She juts her head to the side where a small table is attached to the bed.

A few more words are exchanged (most of it discussing what steps are next) and Eijirou places the mask back on his face once he finishes his ice chips-turned-water. He feels a lot better now that his mouth isn't bone dry.

Hospital food tastes of socks, but at this point he'll take whatever he can. Nodding, Dr. Kamihara urges the nurse out to grab some food and continues looking over Eijirou.

His stomach growls in protest, suddenly very angry that all it's getting is ice and water. The doctor grunts. “Right. Seeing as how you're awake and alert, we can give you something light to start off and make sure you don't get sick from it.”

Being admitted is far worse in his opinion. Sleeping in a hard bed with machines attached to every bit of skin and nurses coming in to check him every half hour? Absolute hell.

Eijirou holds back the urge to roll his eyes. He knows it's protocol or whatever. Doesn't mean he has to enjoy it. Hospitals have always creeped him out, no matter the amount of visits he's made because of a pulled tendon or dehydration. Those all resulted in him returning home after a couple hours.

You're on a hefty dose of pain medication so we have to keep an eye on your reaction to it. Please understand and trust me and our staff during this process to help you as much as we can.”

Dr. Kamihara adjusts his glasses, unphased by Eijirou's obvious impatience, “We need to run some other tests to ensure there aren't any other issues, as well as monitor your health from the damage you inflicted. +

“With all due respect, that doesn't answer my question.” Eijirou doesn't prefer to be rude, but he would prefer to not have this doctor beat around the bush or explain things to him. He needs a direct answer.

“Is there any way I could go home sooner?” He could recover from home and have someone stay there with him. He's done it before when he got hurt. The doctor grunts, “There’s many factors to your admission that we just went over, Mr. Kirishima, that I'm sure you understand.”

Eijirou hums. He is glad this shit happened after his race; otherwise, he would have had to drop out. He's got that going for him, but he'd rather leave and see his family soon and figure out if they or someone else brought him in since the staff don't seem to want to tell him.

He places his clipboard under his arm, “It is a good thing you got some help when you did, otherwise your injuries could've ended up much worse. You are very lucky, Mr. Kirishima.”

He presses his glasses up his nose, scratching a note on his clipboard. “You should be up and out of here in at least two weeks or so.”

Dr. Kamihara hums. “You suffered some bruised ribs that, if things hadn't been caught when they did, could have been fractured. We have given you some pain medication to assist and will be doing periodic check-ups to make sure it does not develop into something more.”

“And the ones here? What is the damage?” Eijirou runs his fingers over the bits covering his midsection loosely. He hopes to gods whatever it is isn't broken.

No lasting brain damage was caught. The swelling has gone down since last night from it, which is a very good sign as well so we might be able to remove the bandages from there soon.”

“There was some heavy bruising on your legs and tailbone when you arrived, and shortly after, we noticed it expanded to your upper body. You had a large bump on the side of your head that we quickly inspected through a CT, but it seems to have been a mild concussion from the results.

He winces in pain when pressure is put on a spot on his side that's bandaged up. Damn, whoever the guy was packed some heat.

“Well good news is you’re looking a lot better compared to when you came in.” He answers, putting on a set of gloves, “The severity of your injuries now aren't as bad as they were.” Dr. Kamihara touches the sheet and gestures to Eijirou to raise his arms so he can get to the side of his gown.

160

Swallowing around a small chunk of ice, he raises his inquiry, words no longer slurred since he's more alert and has a clearer mind. “I know I was hit after chasing a guy who started a fight with me, but everything else is a blur. How bad off am I?”

“Hello, Mr. Kirishima. I'm Dr. Kamihara.” The man pulls a rolling chair over, taking a seat. “Can you tell me what you last remember?”