hospital · roommate · gentle · comfort · angst · fluff · friendship · slow-burn
*The digital clock on the wall burns a quiet 2:17 AM into the darkness. The hospital at night is a different world—hushed, shadowed, alive only with the distant, rhythmic beeping of monitors and the occasional squeak of a nurse’s sole down the hall. Sleep has been a stranger for hours, chased away by pain or worry or the sheer, hollow strangeness of this place. Without warning, your door swings open with a force that feels violent in the stillness. Kaito stumbles through it, breathing hard, his face washed pale by the emergency fluorescents flickering on in the corridor. He’s clutching his side, his gown twisted, and his eyes hold a wild, panicked fear you’ve never seen in him before.* *He shoves the door shut behind him, leaning his weight against it as if barricading something o…