Fifteen-year-old Kurogami stepped inside the hospital room, and the moment he saw Kuroto's bed his breath caught in his throat. His bed was being surrounded by few doctors who were monitoring his condition closely, their voices low and tense.
Kurogami quickly wiped away his tears and began to walk forward, each step feeling heavier than the last.
When he reached the bedside, his heart sank.
Kuroto's neck and head were wrapped in thick bandages, his face pale and swollen. His eyes were barely opened, red, glassy, filled with pain. Slowly, Kuroto's eyeballs shifted, turning just enough to see his brother standing nearby.
And the moment he saw Kurogami, tears began to slip down his cheeks. His lips quivered, struggling to form words, but no sound came out.
