"Damn," hissed Tae, examining his foot. "It's been a long time since you swung around here with an injury like that."
"I'm not gonna need to have it amputated, am I?" Haruto asked jokingly. Internally though, he knew the prognosis was bad.
"Not amputated, no," sighed Tae, glaring at him, "but it seems like something tried to amputate it for you. Those are deep cuts—you did wash them out, right?"
Haruto nodded.
"Okay, that's something," she sighed. "Hold that still, let me get out my stuff."
She wandered over to her cupboards and began pulling out what Haruto recognised as the familiar accoutrements.
"I've got to say, I'm surprised he brought you along," said Tae, glancing at Wakaba, who'd been sitting silently in the corner since they arrived. "Did you know your kid gets banged up so much?"
"I had an inkling," said Wakaba, casting a cool glance at him.
"Okay," said Tae, sliding a small table of bottles and bandages over. "I'm gonna clean that out for you, then dress it nice and tight."
"What, no stitches?" asked Haruto.
"Not this time, my little guinea pig. This time, you fucked your foot up properly. That wound needs to be kept open to heal this time, and you'll need to wash it twice a day until it scars over, alright?"
"Oh come on," grumbled Haruto, but Tae was already beginning to mess about with her bottles.
The cleaning process was as agonising as he remembered it, and he found himself lamenting the fact he hadn't spotted the damned snake moving its head sooner. Eventually, when it was all bandaged, he forced himself to glance back.
"Alright," said Tae, picking up a couple of bottles, "these are some antibiotics to stop you getting infected. Take one from this bottle every day for a week," she shook the bottle with the yellow label in front of him, "and two from this bottle every day for twelve days, understand?" She pointed at the bottle with the red label.
"One from yellow bottle every day, two from red bottle every day, got it."
Tae rolled her eyes and handed them to him. "Some other pointers, though really you should know them by now: don't change the dressing for two days, and don't get it wet during that time. Showers only, until that wound is healed, and since I've left it open, you need to carefully wash it out with clean water every day, twice a day until it heals, got it?"
"Is this after the first two days?" asked Wakaba, from the corner.
"Yes," said Tae.
"How long do you think it'll take to heal?" asked Haruto, swinging his legs down.
"Two weeks minimum," said Tae, glaring at him. "And don't even think about going running. You can walk, but don't push it."
"I won't," said Haruto, and for once he genuinely meant it. The threat of having to deal with that much blood again was more than enough of a deterrent to keep him out of Shido's Palace safely for another two weeks.
"Alright then, you're free to go," said Tae, pointing at the door. "And take care of yourself. Or else."
Haruto grinned and Wakaba just nodded soberly before escorting him out of the clinic.
She'd reserved comment until now, driving him to the clinic in silence and remaining that way for the majority of the time he was there. He had a feeling it wouldn't last much longer. And it turned out he was right.
"Seems you've gathered quite the collection of acquaintances," said Wakaba, lightly.
"All sorts," Haruto agreed. "It's a… complicated job I'm in. Need all kinds of contacts to keep things running smoothly."
"I see."
They walked in silence for a bit longer, pausing before the side-street which led back to the Leblanc. Wakaba was frowning deeply.
"Haruto… are you really okay with doing this?"
He'd been wondering how long it would take her to ask.
"It's fine," he said. "I've done this kind of thing before."
Wakaba breathed deeply, nodding. "You're tough. I know that. It's just… if you died in there…"
"It's a risk I'm willing to take. I would have ended up targeting Shido eventually, you know. With or without your help."
Wakaba laughed dryly. "Your vindictive streak knows no bounds. But then… neither does mine, so I suppose I shouldn't complain."
"No," said Haruto, smiling back. "You shouldn't."
She shook her head. "Alright then. Two weeks before we try again. Minimum."
"Don't worry," said Haruto. "I'll be ready."
"Just don't push yourself too hard."
"I won't."
***
Saturday 7th May
"Hey, what the heck's this?" asked Futaba, grabbing one of his medicine bottles off his desk.
"It's rude to go poking about in other people's stuff," said Haruto, quickly grabbing it back off her. "And these are illegal vitamin pills, obviously."
Futaba rolled her eyes. "Seriously?"
"Of course not," said Haruto, replacing the bottle. "They're antibiotics. My cut got infected so I'm making sure it doesn't get any worse."
"The cut on your arm?" asked Futaba, her eyes widening. "But I thought that was all healed up?"
"Yeah, so did I," muttered Haruto darkly. So she hadn't spotted the bandages on his foot yet. Good. "But no. God has it in for me. So now it's a regime of antibiotics until it looks normal again."
Futaba winced. "Yikes, rough luck, Haruto."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Plus next week's exam week."
"Oh, haven't you been revising?" she asked, shooting him a nasty grin.
"I don't need to revise," he replied smugly.
"Ugh, I forgot you have a memory almost as good as mine," she grumbled. "Disappointing."
"Hey, I don't get top of the class all the time for nothing, y'know."
"Well, you kind of do, since you don't actually revise."
"Oh yeah. Guess I am lucky about some things then," he said with an intentionally irritating shrug.
"I'd be so pissed off if I was in your year," sighed Futaba. "But since I'm not I guess we can be smug together instead."
"Nice," said Haruto, grinning at her. "So, have you made any friends in your year yet?"
"Ugh, you sound like Mom," groaned Futaba, flopping back in her chair. "I don't need friends."
"But it might be nice to have some."
"Yeah, maybe," sighed Futaba, swinging forward. "Besides, I don't see how you get to talk. You didn't have any friends last year."
"Um, I have plenty of friends," said Haruto, glaring at her. "They're just not in school."
"Oh yeah, bet you're gonna tell me you have a girlfriend in America too."
He leant over to try and grab her magazine away but she shot out of the way like a bullet.
"Hey! No taking my stuff!"
"Then stop poking around my private life," said Haruto, clattering back onto his chair. "And besides, I do have a friend in class now, so you have no excuse."
Futaba rolled her eyes. "That tall weirdo, right?"
It wasn't the first time he'd heard Futaba refer to Yusuke that way, but he'd assumed at first it was just jealousy. But he'd made a concerted effort to spend more time with her after their argument, so it couldn't just be that…
"What have you got against Yusuke?" he asked curiously.
"Nothing," said Futaba, a little too insistently. "He's just strange, that's all."
"Strong words from the Queen of Strange herself," said Haruto, bemused.
"Hey!" cried Futaba, glaring at him. "I won't take bullying, you know!"
"I know," said Haruto. "But he is a good friend, so you have nothing to worry about if that's it."
Futaba sighed, then sat back down. "Okay, if you say so. But if he's ever mean to you I'll kick his ass—got it?"
Oh, so this was… protectiveness? That was kind of funny actually. Especially considering Yusuke had at about a foot on Futaba height-wise.
"Alright," he said, unable to hide a grin. "I'll stand and watch as you… I dunno—disable his kneecaps maybe?"
He only just dodged the magazine that came flying at his face. Ah. It was nice when life was simple. Well. Simple enough.