Mute |Shizaya| (Currently Editing)

Chapter 14 - Close Up

The fast paced footsteps were rushing to the room the two were currently occupying, voices that you could think we're panicking, but lieu were more calm due to this happening quite a few times before. It didn't mean though that they hadn't the need to help the 'sleeping' man. Shizuo heard the footsteps, and looked down through the crack of the door, looking around for a place to hide. Not a second later the doctors opened the door to find only the frazzled and shocked patient, looking strait at the ceiling, his eyes clouded in a way that it was only a void or redness and emptiness. Of coarse, that wasn't the situation, but just the look of it could make a shiver run any normal persons back. The doctors quickly helped the inhalation mask off him and helped him sit up, changing IV'a and using a light to check his eyes. They also checked his vitals quickly to make sure everything was in place. It was easy to identify that the (ex?)informant was now awake, just in the normal shock of finally waking up after a long period of time in a coma, or so they thought. They made sure to give him a sip of water knowing he should at be able to stomach that much. They helped him settle back down after running a few more tests, and were going to contact the Kishitani residence about the state of their friend.

With that, all nurses and doctors left the room, telling they would be back in about an hour, telling him to relax and to try and gather his surroundings better. They would go over the wound later, but they didn't tell him that. Maybe he wouldn't even notice, they thought. As the door closed, there stood behind it, the white and black getup of a bartender, an unlit cigarette in between his fingers, eyes piercing the faded crimson ones that now held no emotion whatsoever ever. The gas mask looked quite hilarious on the look, so.... so.... so blank. It didn't attract or arouse any annoyance or anger from the brute. The stupid grin of a drunkard played on his features as he walked back to the bed, pulling up a metal chair and turning it, so it's back faced the bed, and sat in it that way, resting his arms on the backrest.

"Welcome back to the fucking living flea."

No response, just silence. Not even the birds outside sang, nor the wind against the window. Even the piercing silence wasn't there, it was a void of nothing. The best part, 'no voice from the flea,' the brute thought, that stupid grin on his face. It was like a dream come true, no longer would he hear that annoying voice that would call him by that stupid nickname, no longer that annoying laugh, or that voice that buzzed around un his head. Even the smirk, he was sure the other wouldn't smile anymore, his greatest weapon taken away from him; his voice. Out of anything, all the other four senses, the worst had to be striped naked from him, his voice. The one he held power over everyone, the noise he drove people to death and insane, the one he twisted the words of others. Just gone. Poof.

Goodbye. Zàijiàn. Adios. Audieu. Sayōnara. Addio. Poka.

It didn even leave with a goodbye, it was just taken. It left like magic. Just because of a little blade. It' betrayed its own master, with the use of it, it could have even killed it's master. In fact, Shizuo always carried it around with him, it was like a trophy he had won. It was in his breast pocket on the outside, and he wasn't intending in giving it back now, or ever. Besides, he most likely would have forgotten about it by now, no?

"Speak to me louse. Wait, sorry. You can't. Pshh.." A silent laugh wrecked Shizuo's body, his shoulders moving to the muted noise coming out of him. "Really sucks to be you."

Eyes that no longer held the usual intimidation stared back, the emotion long gone from his face. The pale complexion that colored his face made him look like a living dead, and it seemed cold from just looking at it, like the ice touch of the snow queen in those children books that they all so loved when they were younger as they were being read, by someone they love, most likely their parents. There are some though, who didn't read them until they were older, already too old for their reading level, and would read them to their little twin sisters the way that they never read to them. Being the parents that they themselves never had to give them a little push in the right direction. Later in the years, those kids would be delinquents and would be something in society that could change other lives, but just ruined theirs, and soon they would land in a hospital, in their death bed at a young age. They would then be traumatized and be taken to an asylum or mental hospital because they were traumatized so badly by their childhood that had lead them to their present and they blamed everything in the past than live the present. Oh, the wonders of life.