#(and squinting at it bc light hurts). instead i would like to continue organizing my room and some other to dos which i cant do with this

[threecrowsinacloak]

hey did you know that it's okay actually to take a painkiller for things that "aren't actually that bad" but that are preventing you from doing things

[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing Tidbit LET ME SLEEP…

… Ahem. Not you guys. My brain.

Okay. Basic basis of this is something explodes ceiling collapses, and Isamu pushes both Aruto and Izu out of the way, gets trapped under it himself.

Obviously, this would be set much later in the series.

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“No…!” The word was a choked gasped as Aruto scrambled to his feet, rushing forward to begin digging madly through the debris so frantically he quickly scraped his knuckles and grazed his palms. “No no no no no no no no no no no no no no…!”

Izu hung back for a moment, her ears and eyes flashing and clicking as she surveyed the area. “… Aruto-saichou!” She said suddenly, pointing at a spot a few paces from where he was searching. “Here.” Without waiting for him, she marched over to the pile and began going through the mess, picking up hunks of concrete and tossing them aside like balls of paper. By the time he stumbled over, she had already cleared enough to reveal Isamu’s arm and shoulder, pausing only for a moment to announce, “Visual contact.” Before she commenced removing the rest of the rubble.

Aruto tried to help for a bit, before it became very clear she didn’t need him, so he just knelt on the ground and tried to rouse Isamu while she finished with the wreckage. “Fuwa…! Oi! Fuwa!” When Izu cleared the final piece, he leaned over to grip Vulcan’s shoulder, trying not to disturb the other Rider’s injuries too much, but desperate for some sign of life—especially since Isamu was so pale, cut and bruised, with a thick smear of blood on his forehead, sticking his hair. “Fuwa!”

“Saichou.” Izu stepped up beside him. “Fuwa-san appears to be suffering from several severe internal haemorrhages in multiple vital organs, and at least fifteen bone fractures and a concussion. Some of his broken bones also appear to have ruptured a lung.” Her tone was as level as always, but the words were much softer than usual. Her ear lights flickered. “I am summoning emergency medical services and alerting the rest of AIMs, however…” She actually hesitated, just as Isamu winced faintly, groaning. Izu stared at his face for a moment, then looked back to Aruto. “… However, it is highly unlikely they will arrive in time.” Aruto felt his heart dropping from his chest, looking back down at the other Rider in his arms as Vulcan’s eyes cracked open. He felt pressure on his shoulder—Izu’s hand. “… Please be prepared.” She whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Isamu blinked a few times, groaning tiredly again. “… It… Hurts…” He coughed weakly, but it didn’t sound like his lungs were working properly, especially when blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Slowly, he looked slightly up at the other Rider holding him, squinting at the young man’s face. “… You okay?” He wheezed, frowning concernedly with an edge of pain, in a familiar way that made Aruto’s chest clench—he’d seen that look before, when he’d visited his father in the hospital as a child. He nodded quickly, hoping to dismiss the agonisingly recognisable expression that his memory also associated with permanent loss from Isamu’s face. But the frown just deepened as Vulcan struggled to breathe for a moment before, “… The… HumaGear…?” His voice was even weaker than before, and his words began to blur together as he went on, “… What-was-her-name…?” The fact that, despite how hoarse and confused he was, he sounded like he was genuinely trying to remember made the knot in Aruto’s ribs twist even tighter, and tears stung his eyes—he glanced anxiously at Izu.

She looked taken aback for second, but quickly recovered. “I am undamaged.”

Clutching tightly to the other Rider’s sleeve, Aruto felt Isamu’s shoulder relax, his head lolling to the side and his eyes starting to close again. “Hey. Hey!” He wanted to shake Vulcan to snap him out of it, but Izu saying ‘concussion’ replayed in his mind, and the huge blotch of red on Isamu’s forehead stood out like a warning sign. Instead he just held more fiercely on to the other Rider’s shoulder, gripping a handful of Vulcan’s suit jacket. “Come on…! Stay awake…!” Frantically, one hand fumbled to find Isamu’s to grasp it just as tightly to his chest. “Help is coming, okay? So, please, just stay awake!” But the other Rider’s eyelids merely fluttered slightly, his brows creasing for a moment before he faded again. “No… No no no no no no…” His fingers curled even more, trying to squeeze even harder, like he could hold Isamu’s life in with just the strength of his hands, tears dripping down his cheeks. “No…” Desperately, he tried to wrack his brain for something—he had to try and keep Vulcan alert, aware. Had to…

His mouth spluttered out the first words that came to him. “That last move really brought down the house!” Even to him, the joke immediately fell flat. His voice was cracking, and his heart was audibly not in it—that was sitting somewhere in his stomach like a ball of cold lead—and it was glaringly inappropriate for the situation. Someone important to him was dying—again. What the hell was he thinking?

A low, breathless sound brought him back to reality, making him look down. The other Rider had turned slightly away from him. For a moment, he thought he’d imagined the sound, then it came again, quickly followed by another. The sound continued, and as he felt a slight vibration through his hand on Vulcan’s shoulder, he realised what it was—laughter. Isamu was laughing, tiredly and weakly, half choking as he fought to breathe, more blood on his lips, but genuine and warm—even the weary grimace had shifted into a soft smile, one that suited him much better than his scowl.

A few coughs interspersed the chuckles, and Vulcan’s head turned back, unfocused gaze flickering to Aruto’s face. “… Idiot…” He croaked faintly, and the smile broadened—then his eyes closed, and his head dropped back to the ground, and Aruto felt the hand he was holding go slack.

Aruto’s eyes widened, and he scrabbled to try and hold on, to pull Isamu back, to… To do something…! “No… NO!!!” The syllable ripped from him, leaving him practically breathless. But the other Rider stayed still and limp, a peaceful smile still gracing his pale face. Aruto surged forward, and might have dragged Vulcan up and shaken him by his suit, but Izu’s immovable hand clamped down on his arm before he could. He turned to stare at her, tears now pouring down his face.

She was kneeling beside him, her expression calm, though did not feel indifferent. “There are no discernible vital signs.” She told him, evenly but gently. “There is nothing more you can do, Aruto-saichou.” He kept staring at her through the tears for another moment, then slumped back. After some more pause, he finally cracked, letting out a small sob and putting his head down on Isamu’s broken chest to cry.

Izu patted his back lightly as he wept, only looking away to glance over her shoulder when hurried footsteps heralded the arrival of Yua, who rushed around the corner—only to come to a scattered stop when she saw the scene. Shocked for a moment, she collected herself in time to throw out an arm and stop the rest of the AIMs officers from moving in.

They hung back until the medics arrived, at which point she stepped forward. Izu stopped her patting to shake Aruto’s shoulder, and he sat up sharply, dabbing at his eyes, looking up at Yua pitifully. She gave him an apologetic look, taking a deep breath. “Hiden… He’s AIMs. We need to take his body.” He glanced anxiously between her and Isamu, swallowing. Finally, he nodded weakly, but still couldn’t find the strength to move back until Izu helped him up and all but carried him over to sit by the wall. Yua oversaw the careful collection of her teammate’s corpse with a conscious, calculated expression casting a few sharp glares at the sound of some unprofessional gossiping about how someone as short-tempered as Vulcan had managed to die with a smile on his face. As they were finally leaving, she paused beside the other two, looking pointedly not at them, but after the stretcher being loaded into the van. “… Sorry you had to see that.” She murmured—then walked quickly to the car herself.

Aruto didn’t even look up as they drove away, only giving Izu an aimless nod when she suggested bringing around their own car. Instead he stayed riveted in place, staring at the smears of blood left behind amongst the rubble.

As a human his father had wasted away in front of them. As a HumaGear he pushed his son out of the way of danger in an explosion. This was like the worst of both. Too similar in ways he couldn’t name.

By the time the car arrived, he still hadn’t moved, though his eyes were going dry.

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I totally went hc w/ Aruto relating Isamu to his father, but that was bc I was just coming off realising they were both the only ones who found his jokes funny, and so… I went a little wild. I’m also very tired. When tired I have fewer inhibitions. I’m also sorry for any typos I am wreck. Good night.