#guest muse

[playmakiing]

@rxvclver // bounced from X.

| ϟ |   The weeks following the Tower of Hanoi’s fall felt quick in comparison to the ten years prior.  Time was faster, each day passing by quickly.  Before his brother delivered the news of his captor’s demise, time crawled by ever so slowly, each day blurring together until all that was left was a void of despair.  Jin had been trapped in the confinements of his own mind for a little over a decade, but to hear of hope?  A light had begun to shine in his life, a trickle peeking through the dark.         Meeting Playmaker--Yuusaku Fujiki--while an awkward experience for the both of them, was also an enlightening moment.  While similar in their shared trauma and the aftermath of it, there had been one stark difference--Yuusaku took his anger and pain and weaponized it against his foe.  Jin. . .turned away from it all and refused to come out for ten whole years.  He would forever be grateful to the other teen for showing him a glimmer of hope, but part of him had wondered if his life would ever have any meaning.

        And one day it did.  After Jin began to move and talk again, Shoichi had quietly left behind the younger’s old duel disk during one of his visits to the rehabilitation center.  Nothing was said about the item, but for hours each day since, Jin would hold the duel disk and stare at it.  The loudest part of him said he should never duel again, dueling was scary and only going to inflict more pain on him.         Yet there was a spark inside of him that gently urged him forward, telling him to face his fears and stand on his own two feet.  Surely it was time for him to protect himself and not rely on others to do it for him?

        Then he appeared.  One evening as he gazed down at his duel disk, it began to glow brightly, and the next thing Jin knew, his Ignis had appeared before him.  The younger Kusanagi hadn’t met Yuusaku’s Ignis, but he heard the tales of him--a goofball in a sense, sometimes cryptic but a vital part in defeating the Knights of Hanoi.  So to see his own. . .it was a shining encounter.  The Light Ignis--later to be dubbed Lightning--was calm and collective, seeking out Jin because he wished to learn more about humanity and its future.           At first, Jin hides Lightning’s existence from his doctors and Shoichi, not wanting to raise any suspicions or concern, relatively.  Yet a strong bond formed rapidly between the Origin and the Ignis, and it resulted in a great improvement in Jin’s recovery.  It wasn’t long before he was given the all-clear to return home, but before Jin could introduce his brother to his new partner, disaster had struck in the virtual world of LINK VRAINS--a mysterious attacker was destroying parts of the network and the logged-in duelists were in danger.  Shoichi had left in a hurry ( presumably to go to his truck to hack into the system ), and Lightning had persuaded Jin to log in.  Despite him not being a duelist, the Light Ignis spoke of sensing something off in the network and wanted to investigate it for himself.  With the added comment of being able to assist his older brother, Jin logged into LINK VRAINS.

        And to both of their astonishment, the assailant was none other than Playmaker, the former hero of the digital world.  Quick investigating revealed that the true mastermind was Ai, the Dark Ignis, and he had hacked his Origin to turn him into an obedient servant. The events following this attack fell like dominos, and far too quickly for Jin’s liking.  After spending so much time in an endless sea of nothing, to have his whole life flipped upside down in a matter of hours?  It was terrifying, to say the least.

        While not a hacker and his overall dueling skills improving at a decent pace, Jin spent most of his free time sitting in whatever courtyard Cafe Nagi had access to, watching the world go by and assisting his brother with customers.  Revolver--or Ryoken Kogami, whichever name he preferred--dropped by often; an ueasy alliance had been made between all involving parties, and he wasn’t sure what to think of it.  This guy was the leader of the Knights of Hanoi, and while he wasn’t the mastermind behind his trauma, Revolver still owned up to it in a way.  He was confusing and scary, but Jin couldn’t help but watch him.  Something about Ryoken intrigued him, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.         So when Ryoken’s body began to collapse in front of him, dark circles under his eyes from exhaustion, Jin instinctively reached out to catch him, arms wrapping around the other and he fell to one knee to support them both; his arms were still relatively weak, but it was better than letting the other hit the concrete at full force.

        The moment his hands made contact, however, something bizarre occurred.  The scenery around them shifted suddenly, and Jin found himself leaning against a railing as the starless night sky loomed overhead.  In the distance laid another outstretched city, the lights dimly shining.  The Satellite. . .the shambles of a former city where the people consider lesser and unworthy lived.  Where he used to live.  Whenever he happened to pass by this outlook, Jin couldn’t help but stare across the bay at his former home.

        ❝ I have had to tell him as well, but it’s dangerous to look over there for long.  If anyone was to see you, they would suspect you. ❞

        An airy chuckle passes by his lips, but Jin adverts his gaze to look behind him; even in the darkness of the night, Ryoken’s figure was all too bright and easy to see.  Perhaps it was the stark white hair that glowed under the faint moonlight?         ❝ What would they do if they knew?  Kill me just like how they killed him? ❞

        The gentle smirk on the older man’s face faded at the snide comment, and he sighed.  ❝ Jin, you know I won’t let that happen, okay?  What happened then was a tragedy, and I swear I won’t let either of you get hurt by this corrupt authority. ❞

        Turning fully away from the railing, Jin steps towards his partner, not embracing him yet but slipping his hands into Ryoken’s, intertwining their fingers delicately.  They fit together so perfectly, sometimes he couldn’t believe how fate brought them together.         ❝ I know that, but I can’t help but hate this city for what they did.  Why do we have to suffer so some hoity-toity rich people live life without a care in the world? ❞

        Ryoken sighs as he presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead, his voice low as he replies.  ❝ I don’t know, but we can only work towards finding a solution.  One day, Jin, we’ll find a way. ❞

        As soon as the vision materialized around him, it was gone in an instant.  Jin blinked owlishly, his attention back on the man in his arms--which are about to fail on him any moment.

        ❝ H-Huh?  I don’t. . .what just happened? ❞

[merryfortune]

Nosocomephobia

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Ship: Jin/Spectre

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: hospitals, depiction of a panic attack, references to the Lost Incidents

  Spectre knocked on the door and kept the bouquet of flowers in his other hand tightly by his side. He waited and then he heard a weak voice, “Come in,” and he followed the meek instruction. He opened the door and crept inside. His stomach knotted, and he felt sick. Violently so and he could feel his skin growing hotter and wet with panicky sweat. They were two very different people, he thinks, and yet, he had forced himself to visit regardless.

  Jin was relaxing, face up to the ceiling almost in pretence of a nap but his eyes were open, in his bed. The sheets were a crisp and pristine white which were so bright, despite being quite used, that they hurt Spectre’s eyes. He felt the twitch of fear inside of himself, but he managed regardless. He forced himself to ignore it, even though it caused him to slow his steps as he approached the bedside.

  Fortunately, Jin did not seem to mind as he became distracted by a remote. His bed whirred and soon, he was propped up. He indicated that a chair was close to his bedside, silently offering it for Spectre’s comfort but refused to sit and meet Jin’s eyeline as he propped himself up so that he may meet his companion more properly.  But Spectre refused all such courtesy.

  “I brought you flowers,” Spectre said, “I thought that would be polite. Brighten up your room, I suppose.” His voice was scratchy, and he was not meeting Jin’s gaze.

  “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, Spectre.” Jin murmured.

  “I don’t suppose you have a vase or similar?” Spectre asked, not particularly caring for Jin’s sentiments, and he glanced around the room.

  The room was bleak and sterile. It was completely and utterly human; devoid of anything organic with shapeless pleated curtains and idling machinery dotting the corners of the room. It represented everything Spectre detested.

  Spectre had a deep hatred of many things, human things but hospitals were, possibly, the worst of the lot and being here now, he was reminded of why. He didn’t know how Jin could stand it. They were all the same. Too clean, too white, too human. Nothing natural about them and the slow, constant beeps of machines. The windows were too small, and they were so bare. Nothing on the walls except reminders of what you were to the professionals who were not paid enough to care about more than how you were represented on those statistics. Spectre detests hospitals.

  But his hand had been forced by Ryoken who thought it would be a good idea to visit. If it were up to Spectre, he would have waited until Jin was discharged but that seemed like an eternity away despite his grand improvements in condition post being used as Lightning’s servant. His podium, really. And even then, there was no way that Spectre would be permitted to even draw in close to the Kusanagi residence. So, it was now or not at all and Spectre, despite his reservations and fears and loathing, did not want it to be not at all.

  Still, Spectre’s gaze, and his consequent musings, returned to what was before him. And that was that, until further notice, Jin was going to reside in hospice care, and they were supposed to be amicable. Thus, Spectre answered his own question now that his reverie, lulled, had finally broken.

  “No, you don’t…” Spectre mused, with one last sweeping glance throughout his surroundings, as unnerving as they were.

  “It’s okay, I can have a nurse find one for us.” Jin said.

  “No. Absolutely not.” Spectre snapped.

  Both Jin and Spectre were surprised by how loud Spectre’s voice had been. Spectre turned regretful, but Jin was forgiving. He knew that Spectre hadn’t meant it. Though, his hands twitched in betrayal to such good, sweet nature.

  “Alright then…” Jin murmured. “I’ll just, um, hold onto them until later then.”

  “If that’s what you want.” Spectre said, turning over the bouquet to Jin.

  Jin delicately accepted it and his complexion changed with the bouquet’s flowers reflecting upon him, almost smiling yearnful smiles to him. He looked nice with the different flowers in his arms, admiring them. Spectre had wanted to bring Jin spider lilies but the moment Ryoken had learned of such a plan, he immediately had their Knights to tag along with Spectre on his endeavour to buy a bouquet. After all, spider lilies seemed too hateful a gift given that Jin was in a hospital and they were a symbol of death. Spectre still thought it oddly appropriate, even now.

  “Thank you. I really love them.” Jin said.

  There was genuine joy in Jin’s voice. It warmed Spectre’s heart. He hadn’t thought the gift anything more than a token but, he was weak when it came to people who could enjoy flowers.

  “You’re welcome.” Spectre said. “Now, if you will, I would like to be excused. I’ve completed my… mission, for lack of a better word.”

  “No. Please stay… You’re my only company today.” Jin said, licking his lips and his hand made a feeble move forward. Had Spectre been closer, Jin may have touched him. Grabbed his hand or similar.

  “…I am not exactly a toy, Jin.” Spectre decided to reply.

  “Oh. You’re busy? That’s alright then…” Jin said.

  “Thank you for understanding.” Spectre said.

  “But, please, are you sure you can’t just stay a little longer? I wanna apologise.” Jin said.

  Spectre blinked. “Apologise? What for?” he scoffed.

  “I was… I nearly… We – no, I – hurt you, Spectre. When you… when you lost that du-” Jin mumbled.

  “That wasn’t you. That was Lightning’s manipulations of you. I absolve you of any guilt you may feel regarding me.” interjected Spectre. He took a breath. “Now, I really must be leaving, Jin.”

  “Alright, bye, bye…” Jin said. “Thank you again for the flowers.”

  “I make no promises, but I hope to see you again s-”

  “Oh, I didn’t realise that you had a guest.”

  Spectre’s nerves prickled as an unidentified, female voice interrupted him. An icy chill sent shockwaves through his body. He turned, robotically, and watched a woman let herself into the room. She had trays upon trays stacked on a cart. She was dressed in nursing scrubs, a dull, turquoise blue. She appeared harmless enough, but her appearance was more than enough to set Spectre off, but he remained strong. Composed.

  “Are you a friend of Jin’s?” she asked.

  “No. I-I’m not, sorry. I must be leaving, sorry.” Spectre said, tripping on his own words.

  Jin stiffened in his bed. He was uncertain as to what was happening, but he didn’t feel rejected. If anything, he was taken asunder by a confused sort of concern. Something bad was about to happen – was already happening – and he didn’t know what the exact cause of it or how to prevent it. For now, he resolved to tread tentatively.

  “He’s a friend of a friend, ma’am.” Jin said. “Now, would you please let him pass?”

  “Did he bring you those flowers, Jin?” she asked, choosing to ignore Jin’s request but she flashed at smile at Spectre.

  “Yes.” Jin replied.

  She set aside the cart, unthinkingly, and continued to block Spectre’s path out of the room. He was so close to the entryway and yet so far. His stomach knotted and the woman came closer to Spectre’s bedside. She brushed up against Spectre and another shiver was sent down his spine. His hands felt aflame.

  “Aw, aren’t they pretty?” she mused, and she reached across for them, to pet them. “I can go fetch a vase for ‘em, if you like.

  “Don’t touch them!” Spectre all but roared.

  The room fell silent in the wake of his yell. He began to tremble like a leaf, until his legs gave out and he collapsed. Thoughts turned jumbled in his head whilst he tasted bile in his mouth. Hands clamped over his ears and his chin to his knees, cowering against the underside of the bed. The room was deathly quiet save for his quiet, almost mad mutterings. Spectre all but shut down.

  “P-Please leave, ma’am. Y-You’re upsetting my friend.” Jin resolutely piped up.

  The nurse had a realisation which came tumbling down on her like a tonne of bricks. She immediately backed off and took her cart with her. Though, despite her departure, Spectre’s relief was not imminent.

  In his head, he was trapped with all the sounds and scents he despised Everything from the dull, monotonous beep of the machines monitoring Jin’s heart rate to the smell of sanitiser. It all gave him a headache; all of which was intensified by memories which he had thought that he had overcome a long time ago but, apparently not.  

  Spectre may have found enjoyment in the Lost Incident, despite the electrocution and the starvation he was subject to, but he found no such thing in the aftermath of it. The hospital bed that he had been confined to in the wake of it had been more of a torturous prison than the little white room that he had spent six months inside of. And that had left a lasting impression upon him.

  Jin put down the flowers. He began to tear apart his made bed. He pulled out a blanket.

  “Would you like a blanket?” Jin asked.

  Spectre breathed heavily. “No. I would not like a blanket.”

  “I’m sorry.” mumbled Jin. “What about water?”

  Spectre slowly rose from his crouched position. But his legs felt weak so, he took a perch on Jin’s bed rather than standing. From there, he focused on his breathing and staring only at his shoes, so intently that he could have bore a hole in the spick-and-span leather. He licked his lips and wondered how his mouth had become so dry.

  “Yes please.” Spectre said.

  Jin lifted his cup from his bedside and offered it to Spectre. “You’re not fussy, are you?” he asked.

  Spectre shook his head, he was but, he was desperate so he was willing to put his preferences aside in haste, and accepted the cup. His fingers were twitchy, shaky. He drank greedily from it. It wasn’t nice. It was overly processed so he disliked it, but it felt nice to have something wet in his parched mouth regardless.

  “Thank you.” Spectre said, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “I-It’s no problem.” Jin mumbled. “I’m sorry. I should have let you leave sooner…”

  “No, it’s quite lucky that I stayed. I would rather have had my… episode in here, in privacy, than in the hallway.” Spectre told him.

  “Oh.”

  Spectre got up and though there was a slight wobble to his movements, he was able to remain composed. He fluffed up his jacket, dusting off specks which only existed in his imagination. He turned around, slightly, and grimaced. It was a strange expression, self-pitying yet sympathetic.

  “You’re a lot braver than people give you credit for, Jin. Or maybe you just seem that way because you’ve lived my personal Hell.” Spectre said.

  Jin blushed. “Y-You’re too kind, Spectre…”

  “I’m really not.” Spectre dryly replied with an awkward expression which suited him better than his prior grimace.

  “If you say so…” Jin sighed. “I’ll see you later, then? Maybe?”

  “Yes. I will… see you later.” Spectre said.

  “Or not. I – I don’t want you to be dragged back to the hospital if it makes you uncomfortable.” Jin stammered.

  “Thank you, Jin. But, it’s really nothing. I’m fine.” Spectre lied.

  “We’ll find a compromise.” Jin insisted.

  Spectre shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “And I promise to take good care of the flowers you gave me, as well. I promise not to let the nurse touch them, if you like.” Jin said as he reached across back to his bedside table to return the bouquet to his lap.

  Spectre softened. Jin truly looked like the picture of perfection with the different flowers in his grasp. So, finally, Spectre drew in closer to Jin and he felt a romantic instruction twinge deep inside of him. He caressed Jin’s face and gave him a quick, chaste peck on his cheek. Jin stiffened to his touch, his cheeks burned.

  “Thank you for your consideration, Jin,” Spectre said as he replaced the distance between them again, “now, I’m going to finally excuse myself, my dear.”

  “S-Sure… Sounds good. H-Have a – Have a safe trip back to, um, where ever it is y-you live.” Jin stammered.

  Spectre nodded and with a strangely heavy heart, he excused himself from Jin’s room. As Spectre left, he felt a bit more courage in himself than when he had entered the hospital. Although, such things petered out as he had to pass yet more people dressed in scrubs and similar, but it was nice to know, to understand, there was at least one room in this wretched place that he could find some salvation in. Even if it was only for a short time.