Various x reader ||One-shots||

Suicidal Hero || Sonic

"You... Why are you here again?"

Sonic said, his voice hoarse with concern as he stands before an old shrine. The said building looked worn out and plain, and the heavy rain showering the whole structure only aggravated the oldness of the shrine.

But that wasn't the one Sonic had his eyes on.

There, as the rain continued to patter on the roof, you layed lifeless on the smeared, puddle of blood on the floor.  As the man before you stood still, you shot him a smile upon recognition of the familiar face, your pale cheeks lifting up despite the cuts and bruises plastered on them. He lifted his gaze an inch to study your pitiful image, but was careful to cover his pained eyes with his drenched bangs. 

Your lips quivered to speak, and the loud noise the rain was making seemed to fade for the ninja's sharp hearing.

"Y-yo... Sonic.. Hehe..."

He strained his blank features while you struggled to sit upright, and his composed, stoic facade was finally clear to your sharp, yet blurred vision. You used your grazed elbows to support yourself as your other arm was already trying to stop the bleeding of your sides.

But halfway through, you cried a moan of pain as you felt your elbow throb in agony.

Sonic suddenly jumped, before stopping his jolting step in order to compose himself.

Everytime you were injured, bruised, or beaten beyond repair, your limping body always carried you here, in this old shrine. Maybe it's because of your instincts? You don't know.

But it's probably because of you longing for the fellow ninja's care. You really had no idea, but this, might be just it.

As for the man standing before you, he was itching to run to your side. He reached his arm out in reflex, before widening his eyes at his own actions.

Because you always came here so often, his body must have made it its instinct to go and take care of you right away. And the fact that Sonic always stumbled upon your sorry state didn't help the ninja's conscience. Because you were always there, laying dull with a pale and bloodless skin. Every other day, he always saw you in this kind of look.

He never saw the kind of you that is full of life, as his every meeting with you was pure coincidence. It always begins with your pitiful, bloody situation, and his reluctant, helping hand. And the conversation always starts with his repeated, questioning statements,

"Tsk, don't ignore my question. Why are you here again?"

He sneered, but you found his body slowly approaching your weakened one. His voice was rough, low, and dangerous, but the way he softly caressed your cuts and wounds were as gentle as a cool breeze. It maybe just because of the rain, but your skin was cold. Too cold, for Sonic's touch. He was kneeling his one knee beside you while your head limps to the side. 

He lifts his eyes from your bleeding side to see your sweating face. While his other hand was holding your covering arm, he used his other hand to feel your cheeks. He ran his thumb over your scarred cheekbone, before widening his eyes at yours. You were becoming too pale, and your lids felt like it was about to close.