Aftermath

I awoke to an oddly familiar roof on a bed, feeling very sore all over and an aching sensation throughout my body. This feeling was strange, to say the least. To keep my flexibility, I do regular yoga and get the occasional sore muscles when I utilize or stretch a muscle I don't normally use. But this aching soreness felt different, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

After gathering my thoughts, I decided to sit up a bit and look around to get my bearings.

As I look, I meet two sets of stained and weary eyes, fill an array of chaotic emotions. Worry, fear, sadness, guilt, and many other complex emotions.

I don't know how long I was unconscious, but they had clearly been worried about me. My mother's beautiful face showed signs of crying. The white in her eyes was a red-pink, tear lines on her face that had yet to dry and pale and haggard.

The changes in my father could go unnoticed if one didn't look closely or know him as I did. He had a serious and fierce look. His face was slightly thinner, and his eyes were piercing but also stained red-pink. I'm sure he was keeping it together for her.

It truly pained me dearly to see this. And knowing that I am the cause made it worse. Seeing those I love suffering because of my actions and choices. As a transmigressor, I should know better. From the countless superhero movies and tropes I've seen, keeping secrets like this from loved ones never ends well. I should have known that there would be consequences to my actions.

I should have known.

Don't get me wrong, I do not regret my choice to try to master my quirk. But I could have tried a different approach.

Seeing me awake, moving, and lucid enough to make eye contact. My mum rushed closer.

"Dante.. Dante... Dante, are you alright? Are you feeling well? Do you hurt anywhere? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Can you sit up? Should you sit up? Do you need a doctor? Let me call the doctor. No, I can't leave you could be hurt, " She said in rapid succession while checking my body.

I was taken aback by this she was meant to be the calm one. I couldn't even get a word in to answer her questions.

"Dear. Dear. Calm down. Let the boy breathe. He just woke up." My father intervened, calming her down and saving me.

She agreed and stopped but took my hand, caressing it.

"Soo, you're looking good, dad." I said with a strained smile to try to ease the tense atmosphere that had descended.

"This is no joking matter, son. You have been unconscious for a week. Do you know what it's like to suddenly faint to the sight of your child surrounded by fire and wake up to him on the floor unresponsive?" He rebuked

"For a whole week. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with you. They said you were as healthy as can be, yet you wouldn't wake up. Your mother and I have been worried sick, wondering when you would wake up or worse, if you ever would." He explained sternly.

"Dante, you are a smart kid, so I expect better from you. Your mum has barely been able to eat anything or even get a good sleep because she wanted to stay by your side." He added

"Not good, kid. Not good."

"Now, I'm going to get the doctor. I'm sure you know what to do, " he said, gesturing to my mum while walking out.

When he left, silence descended on the room. I gently placed my free hand on top of the hand she was using to caress my hand. Looking her in her beautiful eyes.

"Mum, I'm really sorry." I apologised with a cracking voice that seemed seconds away from crying.

She noticed how sorry I was, so she said

"It's okay, son. Are you hungry? There are some apples here I can cut them for you."

"Okay. But only if you have some too." I responded.

Father came back with the doctor to see us sharing a plate of sliced apples.

I guess seeing me okay and his wife eating again made him relax cause he instantly reverted back to his former self.

"What is this? I step out for a moment, and you start eating without me." He cried, rushing to get a slice.

"No one asked you to leave. You snooze, you lose." I shot

"Shut up, kid. Let's see if I try to do something nice for you again." He said, taking a slice that was clearly mine.

"Hey, what are you doing? I was going to eat that piece." I shouted

"Hahaha," he laughed with a smug look he then said in a condescending voice, " No one asked you to leave it alone. You snooze, you lose, " mirroring my own words back at me.

We started fighting over the slices. There were a lot of slices, but we both wanted the one the other was going for.

This fight led to one of the slices flying and hitting my mum in the face, then falling down.

We slowly turn to see her with the same smiling at as with the same kind motherly smile. But the ominous aura flowing from suggested she wasn't too happy with the unsanctioned food fight.

I quickly jumped into action.

"Oh dear, here father, have my slice." I said overly cheerfully.

Picking up on my queue

"Oh no, no son. I couldn't possibly take it. You should have it so that you can grow big and strong." He said equally over cheerfully.

The doctor who had been left standing alone finally decided to act. Coughing loudly to get our attention.

"Hello, Vongola family. I just need to examine the boy, and he can be discharged." The informed.

"Examine away, doctor." Said dad making way for him.

"Huh, it's really odd. Usually, when someone is unconscious for a week or more, even if they are being taken care of in a hospital, there should be soreness, aches, or slight disorientation. But you are as healthy as can be." he wondered

"Is that going to be a problem?" Questioned my mum worriedly.

"No, it shouldn't be as far as I can see." The do responded.

"With that being said. You are free to go." He announced, signing my discharge form I presume.