no matter what

It was the evening. Bodhi wasn't sure what time. He'd fallen asleep during the movie they'd put on for Aoi, stretched out on the couch, feet dangling off the side, with the little girl curled up in his arms, playing with his curls.

Every now and then, Miyuki came by to shake him gently awake. Using their combined (though admittedly limited) knowledge on concussions, they'd agreed he shouldn't be allowed to drift for too long. You weren't meant to have long periods of sleep, with head injuries... at least, that had always been the case when Bodhi had been admitted to the hospital in the past. Though, honestly, those visits were often a blur.

When he surfaced, the sky outside the window was plum purple, and he was alone. Aoi must have been tucked away for the night, and Miyuki was off, maybe getting ready for bed, or working through a bit of prep for the next day. There were some muffled noises from the bedroom.

Bodhi shifted and groaned. His entire midsection was horribly sore, like someone had used a meat tenderiser on him. He felt mashed to pieces, every limb limp and heavy, and his thoughts thick as tar. The world was still shifting oddly when he lifted his head, but the pulsing of the lights wasn't so bad. He'd not been able to choke down more than a bite of the rice that Miyuki had made him earlier, and had vomited it straight back up after only ten minutes.

He found he was grateful for that, now, because the cramps in his stomach were just horrid.

For the first time in a long time, Bodhi wasn't sure he'd be able to attend school the day after an assault.

Almost as if having heard his thoughts, the universe struck back.

A sharp, stabbing pain plunged into the meat of his thigh, above his knee. Bodhi convulsed and yelped,hand shooting down to grab bare skin. Wide-eyed and horrified, he tried to scramble up. What was--

Miyuki threw open her door and rushed out. "Bo? Are you okay?"

Peeling his clutching fingers away, he looked down at the skin. Red and inflamed, a dent like something hard had been thrust into it. A pin? A knitting needle? A screwdriver? And if it was this bad for him, then... Bodhi's breathing sped up. His heart clattered.

Flynn. Somebody must have hurt Flynn.

Wide-eyed and now shocked painfully into lucidity, he said, "We're sharing injuries. Miyuki. Someone just hurt him." He pulled his hand back properly to show the single, tiny bead of blood welling up out of already purpling skin, for his best friend to see.

"Somebody hurt him," he said again, and felt the knowledge settle cold and shuddering over his skin.

Forget staying home. Tomorrow, he was going back in. No matter what, he would be there.

No one was going to hurt his Soulmate.