Regardless of the bruises, boils, blisters, and burns that tainted his once tanned skin, she hugged his lifeless body tight, crying out to someone– something; Some type of higher being to bring her lover back to her. She wailed and sobbed until a nurse rushed over and grabbed her shoulder suddenly.
”Please miss, we don’t know if this infection is contagious through physical contact as well, so we ask you don’t make contact wi–”
”LIKE I CARE?!” the woman shouted, tears and snot alike oozing down her cheeks, startling the amateur nurse.
”WHAT TYPE OF HOSPITAL DOESN’T TREAT THEIR OWN PATIENTS? CURSE OR NO CURSE, YOU’RE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS! YOU’RE THE REASON MY BOYFRIEND’S DEAD! THERE IS BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS!” the female Shinigami cried out. Her rallying cry was heard throughout the infirmary, causing those who believed this true to chant in unison as if readying for war. In fact, if one was to walk in the room now, they would assume a battle was prepared to break out any minute. Arguments over the outcome of this curse and cries for their already lost loved ones filled the room in absolute chaos– how was
he supposed to come to a conclusion in this atmosphere?!
In the center of the lobby floor stood Yū, looking down upon
him.
”So, he’s the one?” Yū whispered to the nurse beside him. The nurse nodded and as if on cue, the infected Shinigami abruptly coughed, blood staining his Shihakushō and whatever of his bare chest was exposed.
”Don’t just stand there– don’t you see he’s getting weaker?! Please! Do tradition and good virtue mean anything to you, Doctor?!” a Shinigami cried out; no doubt, he was of house Kasumiōji. Shouts of agreement followed his declaration– no doubt, these guys were
all of house Kasumiōji.
”Help me take him inside the operating room. I got the head, you grab the legs. Just make sure to avoid direct contact with the skin,” Yū commanded of the nurse beside him. Crouching down, both of them took hold of the stretcher on opposite ends and began their arduous journey. He wasn’t heavy in any way– no, he wasn’t the stressful part at all. It was the crowd. Their desperate pleas for help rang in the pair’s ears as they made their way out the lobby and down the hall to the operating room.
”PLEASE, DON’T SAVE HIM DOCTOR! YOU'RE PLAYING WITH FIRE! I’M NOT READY TO DIE! N-NONE OF US ARE!” one common Shinigami pleaded as the doors closed behind them.
”NO MATTER! Your life means little to us anyway. It would be an HONOR for you to give your life to the Kasumiōji! REMEMBER THAT!” one of the nobles cried out.
”WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOU LITTLE––!” he roared before interrupted by a brutal punch to the jaw. A small fight had broken out between the pair, cueing the remaining nurses to scurry over in an attempt to break it up. But, there were more pressing matters at hand than the egos of men, or… of dead men.After making it to the operation room and a swift preparation of their necessary tools, the two stood on opposite ends of the operating table.
”Are you really going to do it, Yūna?” the nurse asked of him, snapping her gloves on. By this point the infected Shinigami had lost consciousness but was still visibly breathing; It was clear they didn’t have much time left.
Yū was silent. What was the young angel thinking? He had never found himself in a situation like this: a dilemma in which doing nothing might actually just be the right answer was infuriating to him. How could he just allow this man to die without the liberty of at least trying? Maybe, stabilizing him would work– it wasn’t exactly healing but Yū didn’t exactly know the
fine print of this wicked curse. It could unknowingly trigger something to grow at twice the rate this infection in him or worse… the nurse before him, another innocent, or in his exaggerated anxiety-filled mind: the entire medical bay.
’Ten minutes ago, the man in front of us was okay. Seven minutes ago, five have died,’ he calculated. No, the risk was far too great and the curse would spread too fast. It had varied past the point of prediction and was far too wild to tame.
”Yūna…?” the nurse called out again.
’But if we do treat him, we could get some answers. He’s very likely our only chance at eliminating the one who is causing all this and if they’re left alone... what’s stopping them from just infecting the next shinigami they meet in combat and having us repeat this situation all over again? They need to be dealt with… and the sooner, the better,” he pondered, staring vacantly at the unconscious Shinigami’s eyes.
”YŪNA! HE’S STOPPED BREATHING!” the nurse exclaimed. Gasping deeply, the blonde was snapped back into reality and he had to act fast. The nurse having already placed her hands firmly on the Shinigami’s chest, she turned to the blonde for confirmation as he still had the authority. The two locked eyes for a few moments before she broke the silence.
”On your order, I’ll begin reiryoku transfer…” she declared, nodding once firmly.
Seconds passed…
”Stop... ” Yū commanded.
”We’re just going to...” the nurse uttered in disbelief. Another moment passed before she got the confirmation she had been inquiring about since the beginning.
”Let him… pass,” Yū whimpered, struggling to even say the word “die.” It had gone against every belief of his, but this had to end now. The young angel didn’t want to imagine another person afflicted with this condition, didn't want to imagine being put in the same predicament again to weigh the options if a person's life was
even worth it. Just the thought of it made him sick.
Shinigami know the risk they take when they engage in combat, no matter how powerful the enemy is. Yes, it is a job they take, a duty they must fulfill, but they are all fully aware their occupation doesn't come without risk. While Yū's job is to handle the post-loss results, he too is aware of the risk Shinigami must take. But, that same risk shouldn't be applied to innocents. The nurses that lived and worked tirelessly in the relief station, dedicating their afterlives to be of service for others... they didn't deserve it. The ones who clutched their loved ones, the same ones who put their lives on the line willingly... they didn't deserve it. So, he couldn't subject them to that possibility... and he wouldn't allow it.
Slowly, the nurse removed her hands from the, now dead, Shinigami’s chest. Silence filled the room, broken by the cries outside in the lobby; It sounded as if a full riot broke out. For a few more moments the two laid silent until…
”I should… go tell them the news,” the nurse muttered. It was clear she was unhappy about the decision but she dreaded even more the reactions she would receive in the hospital lobby. Wordlessly, the nurse left the room, closing the door behind her.
Yū’s hair shrouded his darkened face. He hadn’t moved a single inch since his decree. The man before him had lost his life… and it was Yū’s fault. How would Seireitei’s Angel face them now? How would he be able to even live with
himself? He could hear the nurse dragging her feet as she entered the lobby, but not what she was saying– not that he needed to anyway. Their reaction was enough. The already ear-splitting screams grew exponentially louder, the voices of the Kasumiōji dominating the pack.
”CURSE YOU, NAKAMOTO! YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, USELESS FUCKING WEASEL!”
Finally, he would move. Snapping his gloves off, Yū would drop to his knees, clutching onto the cold hand of his patient. Tears that were building ever since the nurse’s departure had debuted in full force as they washed down his cheeks. Clenching his teeth, he gripped the hand tighter as he struggled to catch his own breath.
”Please… please, please, please,” the boy muttered over and over to himself.
”P-please… please f-forgive me. Please… p-please understand,” he struggled to whisper between strained whimpers.