He felt alive. He knew, in a corner of his mind, that he was breathing, and that he was living. He could feel the pain, and he could smell the sharp scent of antiseptic within the room. His bed felt sterile, the sheets felt crisp, and the blankets were too thin. The air was cold, and it scraped against the dryness of his inner nostrils like sandpaper against wood.
Tachi had already lost track of the days, and had lost track of the hours in which he fought to remain awake-night and day were both the same. There were no windows, and the artificial lamps supplied light that he always mistook for sunshine. The light was too bright, shined in his eyes, pissed him off, but he couldn't slur through the medication to ask someone to turn the fucking thing off.
The only person who had ever visited, so far, was Ma-kun, who was incessantly trying to get him to communicate with him. *Tough chance...*...as if Tachi had ever communicated with him when he was actually *aware* of things around him. But Tachi appreciated the warmth, the snuggly hugs, the tender kisses upon his lips, the petting...dammit, if he had a choice, he would have Ma-kun chained to his bed.
Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.
Waking up started to get easier. He didn't have to struggle to unglue his eyelids from each other, and he could understand what the doctors were saying. Less medication, more brainwork-that was Tachi's motto, as if he was able to tell anyone that. They said that he had sustained a severe concussion, which was why he had needed so much morphine-they had been afraid of him having cracked his skull, or having slid a spinal disk out of place.
Fucking felt like he had. After they had lessened the medication, Tachi had really started to feel his injuries. His pain felt as if someone had crushed his ribs and slammed him repeatedly against a wall-and, afterwards, run him through a blender. He wondered, vaguely, when the damned carousel was going to stop.
The silence and cold loneliness of the room left Tachi to his own thoughts, especially when Ma-kun couldn't visit, or there was nothing to watch on television. He was left to the thoughts of his demise, to Ma-kun's new career; even to when Ma-kun had been stuck in the hospital. Ken-chan probably didn't even know that Tachi was in the hospital, and Tachi, inwardly, knew that he wouldn't have visited anyway.
This was his penance for being who he was, and for what he had done.
For some reason, the awkwardness of living again hadn't worn off; Tachi felt as if he shouldn't be breathing. He felt as if he should have been buried underground, six feet under, with a gravestone sitting above him. When Ma-kun came to visit, Tachi clung to him as if he were a lifeline, as if he were going to fall behind the curtain of death if he let go.
Tachi knew that Ma-kun was probably busy with his new career with Ken-chan, making music. All without him.
The knowledge didn't hurt, even though it had before.
Eventually, he would have to let go of that lifeline, and find something else to do. Ma-kun was going to find someone else. Tachi was sure of that. Someone else who didn't abuse him in the manner that he had. Someone better.
Losing Ma-kun was going to be difficult.
And he couldn't do anything about it.
Sometimes, thinking about...that...Ma-kun, being with someone else...incensed him with jealousy. Infuriated him. Caused him to fall into moody moments of depression, where he snapped even more viciously at the doctors who came in to check on him, where he refused to let the doctors change his needles, refused to let them change the bag of morphine.
They all thought he was insane for a while, until the storm clouds blew over and he was as obedient as any patient could be.
Aizawa Tachi...throwing a God damned ninny little tantrum. A common occurance, nothing new, do not stop and watch as he explodes.
This entire situation pissed him off more than having been outdone by Bad Luck. This entire situation pissed him off more than when Tohma had snapped ASK's ties with NG. Enraged him to the point of moody insanity. The doctors were talking about having him committed, about having him thrown into mental rehabilitation. They were afraid something had happened in the accident to alter his manner of thinking.
Tachi found it funny that they thought his regular personality was a mental illness.
Surprisingly enough, every time Ma-kun came to visit him, Tachi hid all of it away. Ma-kun, in his mind, didn't deserve to be subject to his horrendous moodswings and tantrums, even though Tachi had always blasted the blonde with his offensive words and attitude before. Ma-kun's presence calmed him down, and kept his mind off of the torturous topics haunting him.
Most everyone who went by another name thought he had lost it.
And, in a way, he had. But there was nothing insane about how he had lost it all.
Tachi had hit bottom. And he was feeling the cold floor underneath his ass. He'd hit bottom so many times that he didn't know what it was like to be on the top anymore...the feeling of being on top had lasted for only a few days when he had succeeded as a musician.
He felt like a twisted, crumpled up piece of paper that could never be smooth again. The ex-singer hid inside of his head, and he let himself slip away from everything else around him. Tachi was going to find a way to make this all okay again. He didn't care about the music, he didn't care about the fame, he just cared about the fact that his sanity, along with Ma-kun, was slipping out from underneath his fingers. Spurned on by this delirious need for a solution, Tachi resolved himself that once he encountered a chance, he would snatch it up and anchor himself upon it.
Until then, he would let the monster rest.
((OOC note: argh! The timing is off, but I think that this entry is supposed to be fitted into the time right before Kaoruko-san's. I haven't documented their encounter because I'm working on something else in conjunction to that. ^_^; Hope no one minds!))