Chapter Text
In one hand, Hiiro holds the scalpel steady but the grip is tight as a vice.
He breathes in and out calmly but he feels the sweat on his face, in his hair, feels it pool slightly at the tailbone.
Usually he like to keep his mind clear as he operates, likes to just focus on the job at hand and he's trying but invasive thoughts keep sneaking in. He looks at a sight he's seen 1000 times before, the insides of a human being looking similar no matter the person but for some reason they're different. Suddenly a procedure he's used to feels like he's being invasive, that this is something he shouldn't ever get to see, that it feels wrong but he wonders if he can actually pinpoint why.
Perhaps it was that Taiga always seemed untouchable with the way he conducted himself, the way he was around them.
Perhaps it was the guilt that he was only operating due to his own failures, his own weaknesses. That for a split second he considered Masamune's offer about failing the operation on purpose, that he'd briefly thought about ending Taiga's life with his own hands for the sake of himself.
He wonders if he could call himself a doctor anymore after this.
A nurse wipes his brow for him and he takes another deep breath.
In one hand, Hiiro holds the scalpel steady and along side it he holds Taiga's future, Taiga's present. He holds Taiga's redemption, his burdens, his past, his existence, his soul and smile.
He hears Saki talk in his head, that he'll become the best doctor in the world.
He wonders if Saki will forgive him for letting her slip away from his life a second time.
He hopes Taiga will forgive him for letting his sacrifice go in vain.
Hiiro locks eyes with Emu for a split second and somehow he feels that everything is going to be okay.
---
The up and down of Taiga's chest is hard to make out in the dim white glow of the few hopsital room lights left on, but Hiiro can see it.
He can see the signs of a beating heart, can see the subtle movements made as he sleeps, can see the mask fog ever so from the breaths. Hiiro sits and watches from a chair next to the bed, his arms crossed and his doctors coat off. He loosens his tie and rubs at his face that feels older than it should for it's age, runs his hands through his hair that perhaps needs a wash.
He's been visiting at night for the past few days and he knows he should be resting but he feels like he can't.
He'd rather watch over Taiga like this, knowing that he's saved a life rather than remember the one he's just lost for the second time. Somehow seeing Taiga alive makes the heart ache and pain ease ever so slightly, makes it feel more tolerable. The only thing is that each time he visits he knows he's being a corward, not quite facing Taiga yet during the day in the small periods in that he's lucid and awake.
The ambience of the room helps him think at least. Sort through what he'll say, what everything that's happened in the past really means. For the past 5 years he's used Taiga as a scapegoat, as a recepticle for his own failure and own burdens and the other doctor has just taken it, just accepted it and taken it upon himself to recieve it. Hiiro can't help but think about how Taiga seems to have given him what he needed to keep living, regardless of his own self, his own career and feelings.
Hiiro takes a deep breath. He doesn't understand why Taiga would do this for him for so long but he doesn't want to know the answer, not just yet. He doesn't even know how to even ask such a heavy question.
He takes another deep breath and looks upon Taiga's sleeping form again.
He sees Taiga's hand above the covers clench at fabric ever so and without thinking he reaches his own hand over, intertwines their fingers together and squeezes.
The feeling of a warm hand within his is nostalgic.
Perhaps he'll gain something more than just redemption.