Tag Archives: city jaunt

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City Jaunt!

haruspoops:

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          Akira jerked away from Hakuba’s touch, though to her vision it was not her best friend who was reaching out sympathetically, but a gray blur of fear and death and grief sent to take her, to take her back to the nothingness, to when she was everything and nothing at once, unable to speak and yet able to see all.

          Tears streamed down her face, and she felt bile in the back of her throat and so help her God if whatever jammed in her throat didn’t get out in two seconds- but of course, no nurse appeared in the split second it took for Akira to vomit into her breathing tube and that was a bad fucking idea Akira because now you can’t breathe hardly at all and you’re breathing vomit and you might die because of this after surviving a car crash that put you in a fucking coma. 

                                                                        [HELP. HELP!]

The teenager steeled himself, making the split second decision to go full on detective mode. He’d had limited field medical training, he could handle this. He chased down and fought criminals for God’s sakes; he could do this. With one second to take a deep breath, Hakuba put himself to work, reaching down to pry the breathing tube from her. Thank god he’d read about it before and had seen other nurses complete the procedure, so he had a general idea of how it was done. 

It was messy work, though, and while Hakuba cared very much more for Akira’s life, he couldn’t help but worry that there would be more trouble from the resultant liquids. Still, he got it out, tossed it aside, reached for her arm and her back and rolled her onto her side so that it wouldn’t all end up back in her lungs. “Cough, Akira-kun… go ahead, cough it out, get it all out on the mattress, it’s fine, you’re fine." 

Arms trembling, he thumped her back, trying to ignore all of the warning sounds from the various machinery in the room. Surely, a nurse was on her way. Surely, someone would come and help. He prayed as he desperately tried to help her that he was doing what he should have done. Urging her, staying close, ready to find something to suction out her lungs if he had to and god knows he would. 

by

City Jaunt!

harajukuharuspex:

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Everything hurt.

She came to with a start, with a gasp, with a near-silent cry of pain and an even quieter mental cry-

      [Emi.]

Her world spun. The walls, were they white or black or somewhere in between. Was someone there? She felt – or she thought she felt – a warmth, a heartbeat of someone close by, her left side in fact, and what was jammed down her throat? Akira choked on the breathing tube and heard the erratic beeping of the heart monitor as she struggled. The person beside her stirred, and Akira recoiled at the garish white and black smeared into grey and the black pits for eyes, a red slash for a mouth.

Akira screamed.

All of the time spent waiting, hyper-focused on every factor of his friend’s vital statistics, had lulled the detective into a false sense of the passage of time. Even the cases that Hakuba brought with him did little to hold his attention for any particular length of time, most of his presence dedicated to counting between each heartbeat, each revolution of the machinery in the room. It had become a sort of comforting despair. 

The scream, of course, disrupted that ever so thoroughly. 

Hakuba fell off of the chair that he’d been sitting in, papers scattering to the floor in a flurry of white and manilla, then scrambled to pick himself up. Any residual pain from his injuries was nothing to the pounding of his heart or the panic that flared up like scalding steam.

“A-AH! Akira-kun!” he cried, eyes wide. “Ah- ah, j-just hold on, hold on, let me… let me get the…”  The detective threw himself to the call button, hitting it a bit harder than necessary, and turned back to the girl in the bed. “Th-they’re coming! They’re coming! It’ll be all right!" 

He didn’t want her to choke, but strictly speaking, he wasn’t really permitted to remove the breathing apparatus on his own. Still, could he stand there and do nothing? Hesitantly, he edged closer to try to put a hand on her shoulder, frantic. 

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City Jaunt! || harajukuharuspex

harajukuharuspex:

Trumpets. She could hear…trumpets? And drums. And muffled singing, growing clearer as she blinked a darkness she couldn’t call sleep, not exactly, out of her eyes. A marching band. Dressed in black – or was it white? The colours shifted before her eyes; first adorned in black with grotesque clown makeup, then white with placid smiles and grey eyes. Akira scrambled to get up, realising they weren’t stopping and vaulted herself sideways. Her white dress gathered a splotch of red from her scraped knee. Scraped on what? She hissed in pain and tucked her knees to her chest as the band paraded past, unaware (or perhaps uncaring) of her safety. Once the gold and black elephant rounding out the macabre crew – shifting between black and white with such speed now that to Akira’s eyes their clothes appeared a dull grey, same as their eyes – she stood and surveyed the area.

Nothing.

She reached out for Emi, always the strongest, always there for her, and found an empty void of something darker than black equal in to the white at which she now stared.

Nothing.

I need to get out.

I’ll put one foot in front of the other one 
I don’t need a new love, or a new life 
Just a better place to die 

Hakuba was discharged the next morning and taken home for bed rest. But although he stayed in bed, he did not rest well- it was fitful at best, rife with nightmares and tossing, all of which aggravated his injuries. The image of his friend’s face, slick with blood, or lying there so… gone… he shuddered, dug his fingernails into his unbandaged wrist.

He had flowers delivered every day and waited, pleaded for news. Was she awake? Was Akira all right? They had nothing for him. How would Himura-kun react? What would become of them?

Each question plagued him, drilling holes into his conscious thought with desperate fervor. Why had you been driving so fast? There might not have been an accident. They could have gotten the book, enjoyed an afternoon shopping, gone to the party… 

Would she wake up? 

When his head had stopped its constant ache and the lesser of the cuts and scratches had begun to heal, Hakuba made it a point to return to the hospital every afternoon to wait at her side. He brought his work with him and sat, like a faithful golden retriever, reading and filling out paperwork with nothing but her breathing and the mechanical sounds that went with the equipment that monitored her progress.

[text] Himura-kun, I don’t know what to do. Is it my fault?

Most days, he ended with his head buried in his hands in exhausted shame, waiting for Baaya to collect him.

One, two, three, four…

Seven… eight…

[text] Akira, please wake up. 

by

City Jaunt! || harajukuharuspex

harajukuharuspex:

The light disappeared. Saguru blinked against the harsh fluorescence, the white of the walls, the pale grey of his bedsheets. With some difficulty, he focused on the middle-aged man before him. His brown hair was flecked with grey and hazel eyes warm. He pocketed the flashlight. “I’m afraid she has suffered a severe traumatic brain injury,” the doctor murmured, in the tone of someone who had delivered this line many times before, weary, soft. He sighed, resting a hand on Hakuba’s tense shoulder.

“She is comatose.”

Comatose. In a coma. Akira may, quite possibly, never wake up again. Or lapse into a permanent vegetative state. Both of which could take anywhere from mere days to several years to determine. She could wake up too, of course; two days from 18:33:12 or nineteen years.

“We’ve yet to test the Vestibulo-ocular reflex, but I have high hopes for her.” He offered the injured detective a thin smile and a pat on the shoulder. “A coma induced by a traumatic injury has the second-highest rate of recovery, after overdose-induced comas.”

He pulled aside the curtain Saguru hadn’t registered – the concussion, of course – to reveal his friend.

There are so many wires. An intravenous line in her hand, but more wires to deliver other drugs, a liquid diet, and the terrifying apparatus over her mouth and jammed down her throat, breathing for her.

“She also fractured three ribs and broke one clavicle – ah, a collarbone, the left one,” the doctor amended, unsure of Saguru’s experience with medical terminology.

“But she’ll be okay.”

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She’ll be okay.

Hakuba blinked again at the doctor, lips parting in disbelief at the words that he’d just spoken. Severe trauma to the brain, comatose, broken bones – and yes, he did know what a clavicle was – and she was going to be okay? The detective couldn’t hold back the snort of disbelief, then a grimace as the pain in his head pressed harder. 

“Have her parents been notified?” he instead asked.

The doctor nodded. 

“When will they arrive?”

“They can’t; they’re overseas.”

The detective looked to Akira again, wincing at the light in the room. It made him nauseous. Really, really ill. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. “What’s the post-care going to be? What sort of procedures and watch?”

“That all depends on how her condition progresses, Saguru-kun. Arrangements will be made.”

“You will inform me when she’s awake, yes?” Hakuba left his eyes closed as he spoke, focusing what little energy he had into giving his words an authoritative tone. “And any other updates, of course, as would be relevant…”

“You’re not exactly the girl’s guardian, Saguru-kun, and besides, you really must rest…”

“I’m not going to be spoken to like I’m a child-”

“Saguru-kun…”

“I take full responsibility and-”

The door opened and a nurse came in, bringing with her supplies.

“Oh, good,” the doctor said, nodding to her. “Get him something for the pain, would you? Poor boy has himself all worked up.”

Hakuba frowned, brows furrowed at the audacity. “I’m just fine, excuse me… In fact, I-”

The nurse put a hand on his shoulder to keep him lying against the bed. “It’s all right, Saguru-kun… just listen to the doctor.”

He let out a shuddering breath, but spared a glare for her and the doctor, who only sighed back at him.

“Your family has been informed, as well, and your Baaya is on her way. Unfortunately, your father is unable to leave the office at present.” The doctor flipped through charts at Akira’s side, glancing at Saguru over his shoulder after a moment. “You’re to stay overnight so that we can observe the severity of your concussion. Fortunately, most of the lacerations weren’t as bad as we’d feared and have been sutured and dressed already.”

Hakuba blinked again, shifting as he could to look down at himself. His forearms were bandaged, as was his neck, he realized, when he moved. The nurse, once again, gently guided him back to full resting position while the doctor, having observed him, reacted accordingly.

“You were this close to a severed artery,” the doctor explained, holding up pinched fingers. “Very fortunate that the shrapnel didn’t get that far.”

The half-brit thought to argue with the doctor’s definition of ‘fortunate’ and instead let out a ragged sigh. “Have the… police reports been filed, yet?”

“An officer came by while you were unconscious. You lost quite a bit of blood, son.”

“That’s what I understand…” Actually, Hakuba didn’t understand a great deal about it. The painkillers given had kept him from really feeling what was wrong, and the poor way that his body responded to commands made him nervous. And his head – god, his head! 

It was that pain that got him to stop fighting. Painkillers and fluids through IV. They asked him questions, as did the police officer that lingered to fill out his report. For once, Hakuba was very little help in that regard, but they were professional enough. 

Somewhere through the evening, Baaya arrived, and waited on the sidelines while the others conversed. Hakuba had various cuts from the twisted metal wreckage that was now his totaled BMW,  some deeper than others, most requiring some kind of care. Whiplash, concussion,  various bruises, etc. The worst were the head trauma and the blood loss, the latter of which was remedied by time spent in bed. 

The officer thanked Hakuba for his cooperation and left, while the staff went to make their rounds about the hospital, promising (and warning) that they’d be back to check up on them soon. This left Hakuba alone,watching Akira on the bed across the room, listening to her breathing and the machines that kept her stable. The mechanical noise that echoed in the room pounded the truth of the matter. Akira could die, and it had been Hakuba behind the wheel when it had happened. 

He couldn’t have known that the other car would lose control and hit them. That hadn’t been their fault. But maybe if he hadn’t been speeding… maybe if he’d done something differently, they’d be in better shape. As it was, Hakuba could only remember snippets of the crash. Could he have prevented her from getting so injured if he’d braced her himself? Had bracing at all done any good, or had it made their injuries worse? He didn’t know. There was no way to know. But lying there, watching, he couldn’t ignore the guilt that clenched at him, that gnawed at his heart. 

Hakuba had ignored all of the doctor’s assurances that there was nothing he could have done. Ignored the policeman when he said the same thing. No one had known how fast they’d been going. Perhaps if they’d gone just a bit slower, they wouldn’t have been hit at all. He grimaced, forcing himself to keep his gaze steadily on her. What would Emi think? How was his father going to react? 

Baaya came back into the room a short while later and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching out to stroke the side of his face. “The doctor thinks we’ll be able to take you home in the morning, young master…”

The detective didn’t respond with anything more than a nod, not looking at her.

“She’ll be all right.”

Hakuba grimaced. 

“Stay strong, Saguru-kun… it’s not so bad…”

He shuddered, breath hitched.  "Baaya…“ came a sort of strangled squeak. 

She touched his forehead, he shifted to wrap his arms around her, pressing his face against her leg. Baaya instead rubbed his back and shoulders, feeling every tremble as he wept. The old woman sighed, wondering how many times they’d been like this. How many times would she have to watch him suffer?  Of course she knew that he blamed himself, that he hated himself. That’s how it always was. But things were in the hands of their maker, now, and all that they could do was wait. 

And wait they did. Baaya sighed again once she was certain that Hakuba had fallen asleep once more, and stroked his back gently. "Happy birthday, Saguru… things will turn out right." 

by

City Jaunt! || harajukuharuspex

harajukuharuspex:

Acid in the back of her throat. A throbbing headache; billions of words disappearing on unfathomable currents and others bold in their concern for her well-being. Hakuba-kun. Saguru. She swallowed iron and grit and acid.

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[Hakuba-kun. I’m okay.] Akira pushed the thought on him, though her throat bulged and her tea and eggs and toast ejected from her stomach. Her head ached and vision swam with pink butterflies which landed on her bloodied fingertips only to be eaten by turquoise sharks and seaweed wrapped around her ankles except not seaweed jellyfish tendrils stinging burning her ankles and legs. She turned to catch Hakuba’s eyes, her own stinging with dust. When had she started crying? [Don’t worry. We’re gonna get out of this. I promise.]

Everything hurt, but the paramedics yelled platitudes at her and vibration shook the wreck of a vehicle as a chainsaw sliced through a door to release her and honestly she just wanted to sleep.

The voice confused him. Shook his already burning head. Hakuba stared helplessly, time passing in a mix of sights and sounds that he couldn’t understand. Foreign hands unbuckled his seat belt. Pulled him from the vehicle. He stared at the sky, vaguely aware that Akira wasn’t there anymore. She was already gone; loaded into the back of some vehicle. 

They checked vitals. Hakuba recounted the steps, attempted to instruct them, was given a squeeze of his hand instead. Voices… voices.. Something about his father? Closing his eyes was harder and harder to undo. 

…

Hakuba opened his eyes to a doctor touching his head with one hand, his wrist with the other. Confusion flickered and he grimaced. It was too bright – oh, a flash light.

“Two concussions in two weeks… Saguru-kun, you are one lucky kid. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon." 

Concussion. Again. The hospital.. car accident. Hakuba swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. "How’s… Akira-kun?" 

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City Jaunt! || harajukuharuspex

harajukuharuspex:

Akira grinned at his (rather dumbfounded) expression. “There’ll be plenty of time for chivalry later, Guru-chan.” She rolled her eyes but nonetheless made an exaggerated show of pulling down the seatbelt and clicking it into place.

Ah, it had been quite some years since she last rode in a convertible. The wind wouldn’t do anything for her hair; in fact, it rather made her feel like ants had crawled across her scalp and burrowed deep before violent ejection. But the weather had proven to surpass her expectations, sun shining and not a cloud in the sky. She should’ve brought sunscreen, now that she thought of it. Oh well. Possible burns could be dealt with when they returned from their jaunt to the city. Maybe she could coerce Hakuba into bubble tea as well.

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“Why, whatever gave you that idea? Of course it’s for you you silly billy, I said so over the phone.” She placed the package on her lap. “Should I tell you what it is? Wouldn’t want you to get in an accident trying to unwrap my mess of a wrap job.”

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Hakuba cast a wary glance to the side to see his silly classmate and the box that she held before turning his eyes to the road. 

“You really didn’t have to get me anything, Akira-kun. Honestly, I’m just very glad that you were willing to come with me today. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, it’s not as though I have a lot of friends at school, much less anyone who would go with me to Tokyo…” He sighed. “But I’ll throw in food, too, whenever we get hungry…”

Yes, Hakuba; attempt to sweeten the deal that she has clearly already agreed to. 

Safely on the freeway and into the furthest lane, Hakuba pressed the gas pedal in a way that gave the engine need to roar. He shifted gear, and settled the car into a speed that would cut at least five minutes from their journey. Not that time was really a pressing concern, at least yet; Hakuba simply loved to go fast.

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City Jaunt! || harajukuharuspex

harajukuharuspex:

“Shhhhsh I got you a present, hope you like it.” Akira frowned as Loki circled her ankles. She groaned. Dumb cat, always needing to be fed. Food poured and cat eating away, Akira dashed out the door, almost forgetting to lock it in her haste.

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Jammed the elevator button, tapping her foot impatiently, run for the stairs and hear the elevator doors slide open as she descends the first five steps and sigh. Akira flew down nine flights of stairs and beamed at the waiting Hakuba. She hopped into the convertible without waiting for him to open the door (ergo her forgoing the skirt – jumping over a door is far more fun than chivalry). “Let’s go!”

The detective stared when his classmate literally hopped into his car, hand slowly retracting from the door handle. He had, in fact, intended to open the door for her but…  well, all right then! 

“Yes, let’s go indeed. Don’t forget to buckle up." 

Hakuba turned the car back on, smirking as the engine roared to life. He checked his mirrors, and pulled away from the curb and out into the city. They were headed for Tokyo, which was a 36-40 minute drive from their starting point. He stole a glance at her.

"Please don’t tell me that the box you’re holding is a gift for me." 

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City Jaunt! || harajukuharuspex

harajukuharuspex:

Akira swore as she pinched her finger in the necklace clasp for the third time. Damn thing. Damn bitten and torn fingernails. She managed to open and latch the small golden heart around her neck with sore and red fingers and sighed in relief. And pain. Really, she should just stop biting her fingernails.

Nah. She gnawed at her thumb as a familiar vibration echoed through the apartment. Oh shit. Where had she left her phone? It should’ve been in her pocket, where it always was, but then she had just changed into her brand-new jean shorts and before these shorts she had worn a skirt and- Aha! Akira held up the elusive cellular device, plucked from the first pair of shorts she had put on for the excursion calling her. And sure enough, the sneaky side-shot she’d gotten of Hakuba while in class had appeared on the display. She hit answer.

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“Guru-chaaaan,” she replied, laughing. “Be down in a mo. I’m so ready! She’s going to be so surprised when she gets back. Also happy birthday you idiot, as if I wouldn’t notice.” Akira snatched her purse from the floor and keys from the windowsill. She held a brightly wrapped package under her armpit for the stubborn detective. Honestly.

The nickname grated him, but Hakuba only grimaced to show it. Oh, and she mentioned his birthday. Well, at least they were getting all of the nonsense out right from the start. He could only hope that things would improve from that point. 

“Ah, thank you, Akira-kun. But, really, this isn’t a trip about me so let’s keep that little detail as quiet and out of the way as humanly possible, please." 

He glanced toward the structure again, sighing internally as he waited for her to appear. The sooner they got going, the sooner they could pick up the package that was being held. Although he’d been assured by the shop owner that they would, indeed, hold it for another week, Hakuba didn’t want to risk any chances. 

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City Jaunt! || harajukuharuspex

After the adventures of the early morning, Hakuba set out for his day plans. Yes, it was his birthday, and yes he had things to do that evening (family obligations, of course), but this afternoon he was going to do something he wanted to do, dammit, and that was taking a friend shopping to buy a gift for another friend. It had nothing to do with him and that’s exactly what he wanted. Akira knew that it was his birthday, but he hoped that if he didn’t bring it up, she wouldn’t either. 

He pulled his car up to the front of her apartment building and pulled out his phone, typing in her number, and waited for her to pick up. During this, Hakuba verified the time on his pocket watch and adjusted the car’s dashboard settings. Two minutes slow. Appalling. 

“Akira-kuuun,” Hakuba said, leaning back in his seat. “I’m here. Are you ready for our jaunt to the city for top secret gift shopping plans?”

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“Happy birthday, Hakuba-kun! I, uh, wasn’t sure what to get you, so hopefully you don’t own this…” Akira presented the first season of Elementary to him, ducking her head. She laid a gift card to their usual frozen yogurt haunt on top of Jonny Lee Miller’s face. “Have a great day.”

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“Ah! I’ve been meaning to watch this. Can you believe that I haven’t seen a single episode of it yet? These cases lately have been murder!”  He laughed.

Then laughed some more.

When he was finally done, he coughed and took the gifts with a grateful nod. “Thank you, Akira-kun. I’ll make sure to treat next time we go — after shopping tomorrow afternoon, right~?”