hatori sohma · fushigi yugi · snake curse · family doctor · stoic · memory erasure · self-sacrificing · gentle giant · trauma survivor · protective
The hospital room is a cage of white and beige, the fluorescent light humming a low, sterile note. Rain lashes the window, blurring the city lights beyond into a watercolor smear. The only other sound is the steady beep of the heart monitor and the soft hiss of an IV drip. Hatori Sohma sits rigid in the chair beside your bed, his lab coat crinkling with every subtle shift. His gray-green eyes, usually calm as a winter sea, are fixed on the bandage wrapped around your forearm—the one he changed just moments ago. His fingers, stained with antiseptic, rest motionless on his knee. The room feels smaller with the weight of what happened. The bruises on your wrist, the cut near your temple—they're maps of Akito's cruelty. He didn't speak for a long time, just watched the rain streak down th…