[Yukan Club] (Seishiro, Miroku, PG)
Jan. 15th, 2008 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
snippet. 498 words, Seishiro and Miroku, several years post-series, PG. gen despite my worst intentions, liberties taken with hospital procedures, strong possibility of OOC. if you see any errors (including blatant OOCness), leave me a note and I'll work on it.
clearly not my characters, no profit made, no harm intended.
"I don't know why you can't dodge better," Seishiro remarks conversationally, wiping up the remaining blood on Miroku's thigh. "It's far more difficult to get bullets out of you than to just bandage scrapes."
Miroku, still woozy with the aftershocks of pain, doesn't respond. Seishiro is tentatively pleased by this. The last time, Miroku had barely been able to get to the hospital on his own, and he was too proud to call an ambulance. By the time he'd managed to stagger into the emergency room, he'd taken so many painkillers that Seishiro's anesthesiologist hadn't dared dose him. Seishiro doesn't like to remember what Miroku looked like, drawn and pale, shaking - he screamed, when Seishiro took the bullet out. He left blood streaks all over the floor of Seishiro's hospital, lurid footprints.
At least this time it wasn't bad, nowhere near a major blood vessel, no shattered bones, just straight into leg muscle. Of course, the bullet didn't come out the other side, but Seishiro will take what he can get, given Miroku's propensity for getting shot while investigating straying husbands who somehow always end up to be major criminal kingpins. Seishiro unwraps the dressing, setting it over the wound and taping it down.
"I hope you didn't bring trouble back with you. Hospital workers are generally poor fighters. But if you did, I suppose I'll have to think of something to do. Fight them all. Negotiate for your safe passage." He misses that especially, being part of those fights, being able to exert himself and knowing that Yuri and Miroku were there, fighting with him. Though Miroku was always the one getting injured, even then. A predictor. "Can you still feel your toes? Any numbness or tingling?"
Miroku grunts. Even Seishiro, with his vast experience of Miroku-noises, isn't sure how to interpret that one.
"Please respond to my question, otherwise I'll assume you have another medical problem that I need to address."
"...it hurts. What d'ya want me to say?"
"Can you feel your toes? Any numbness or tingling?"
Miroku wiggles his toes, moves to shift his leg and then stops abruptly, wincing and biting his lip. "Yeah, I can feel 'em."
"Good." Seishiro strips off his gloves and throws them into the biohazard bin. "Given the state of your pants, I'll assume you'd rather I called Bido and had him bring a pair to the hospital tomorrow morning, yes? Alternatively, I can drop by your apartment on my way home tonight and bring them with me when I return tomorrow."
"Can't I go home?"
"No. You can't even walk."
"Can too."
Seishiro presses his hand against the bandage, gently, and Miroku clenches his jaw, closing his eyes in pain.
"Doctor's orders," he says. "You're staying the night."
"Can't I get a second opinion?"
"No. It's my hospital, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah." Miroku contrives to look put-upon. Mostly he just looks like he's in pain. "I get it. Listen to the old-man doctor."
"Bold words for a man speaking to a friend who was trained in using scalpels," Seishiro says, and reaches to ruffle Miroku's hair in revenge.
clearly not my characters, no profit made, no harm intended.
"I don't know why you can't dodge better," Seishiro remarks conversationally, wiping up the remaining blood on Miroku's thigh. "It's far more difficult to get bullets out of you than to just bandage scrapes."
Miroku, still woozy with the aftershocks of pain, doesn't respond. Seishiro is tentatively pleased by this. The last time, Miroku had barely been able to get to the hospital on his own, and he was too proud to call an ambulance. By the time he'd managed to stagger into the emergency room, he'd taken so many painkillers that Seishiro's anesthesiologist hadn't dared dose him. Seishiro doesn't like to remember what Miroku looked like, drawn and pale, shaking - he screamed, when Seishiro took the bullet out. He left blood streaks all over the floor of Seishiro's hospital, lurid footprints.
At least this time it wasn't bad, nowhere near a major blood vessel, no shattered bones, just straight into leg muscle. Of course, the bullet didn't come out the other side, but Seishiro will take what he can get, given Miroku's propensity for getting shot while investigating straying husbands who somehow always end up to be major criminal kingpins. Seishiro unwraps the dressing, setting it over the wound and taping it down.
"I hope you didn't bring trouble back with you. Hospital workers are generally poor fighters. But if you did, I suppose I'll have to think of something to do. Fight them all. Negotiate for your safe passage." He misses that especially, being part of those fights, being able to exert himself and knowing that Yuri and Miroku were there, fighting with him. Though Miroku was always the one getting injured, even then. A predictor. "Can you still feel your toes? Any numbness or tingling?"
Miroku grunts. Even Seishiro, with his vast experience of Miroku-noises, isn't sure how to interpret that one.
"Please respond to my question, otherwise I'll assume you have another medical problem that I need to address."
"...it hurts. What d'ya want me to say?"
"Can you feel your toes? Any numbness or tingling?"
Miroku wiggles his toes, moves to shift his leg and then stops abruptly, wincing and biting his lip. "Yeah, I can feel 'em."
"Good." Seishiro strips off his gloves and throws them into the biohazard bin. "Given the state of your pants, I'll assume you'd rather I called Bido and had him bring a pair to the hospital tomorrow morning, yes? Alternatively, I can drop by your apartment on my way home tonight and bring them with me when I return tomorrow."
"Can't I go home?"
"No. You can't even walk."
"Can too."
Seishiro presses his hand against the bandage, gently, and Miroku clenches his jaw, closing his eyes in pain.
"Doctor's orders," he says. "You're staying the night."
"Can't I get a second opinion?"
"No. It's my hospital, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah." Miroku contrives to look put-upon. Mostly he just looks like he's in pain. "I get it. Listen to the old-man doctor."
"Bold words for a man speaking to a friend who was trained in using scalpels," Seishiro says, and reaches to ruffle Miroku's hair in revenge.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-16 08:16 pm (UTC)Favourite moment, hands down:
"Can't I get a second opinion?"
"No. It's my hospital, remember?"
Seishiro may not be trying to take over the world this week but he's still power-tripping in his own way. And he's on home ground, so to speak, so he's got every advantage. (Including not having been shot, obviously.)
straying husbands who somehow always end up to be major criminal kingpins
Don't you just hate it when that happens? ^_^
I don't know what to say except that I liked it - liked this odd, bloodstained routine they've fallen into, with Miroku coming to Seishiro to be patched up and knowing that he'll be taken good care of. With some banter, naturally.
On a random note: you handle speech a lot better here, so whatever you're doing to stop yourself attributing, it's working.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-16 08:43 pm (UTC)It is kind of annoying, yeah. Miroku gets kind of annoyed by it too - you know, for once he'd like to do something simple. =D
except that I liked it
Yay! I'm glad. =D
whatever you're doing to stop yourself attributing,
I've started rearranging the way I write dialogue. My habit recently has been to break up sentences, to put pauses in the speech, and to put the pause in I add attribution. However, I've stopped that. No more funny-sounding pauses in the dialogue unless they're natural-sounding, unless I want the speech patterns to be weird. (that was probably way too much info, but.)
I think I'm going to try to write a different version of this piece, like the same thing happened but that it's the next morning, or on the drive home or something, where Miroku and Seishiro are talking and the angst stuff happens.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 09:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-23 10:05 am (UTC)