Kalsen

The boy woke up to a stinging sensation in his arms. Or more precisely as if someone was pushing needles through them repeatedly.

"Tss," the boy sucked in a deep breath, any sleepiness thrown out of the window.

"Oh, you're finally awake," a monotone voice rang out beside him. Whilst laying down, the boy shifted his head slightly and saw a disheveled man poking his arms.

"That.... hurts..." the boy croaked.

"Oh, it better hurt. If it didn't then we'd have more problems to deal with." The man raised his poking hand, which revealed a swab with a cloth-like structure at the end. Dipping it in a green liquid, the man continued to slather the boy's arms.

Ignoring the boy's muffled cries of pain, the man asked, "What happened to you? The police droid couldn't have found you in a sorrier state."

The boy went quiet after recalling the previous events. Of how he had tried to run, failed to escape, beaten within an inch of his life, and how he lost the stone.

Now it was the boy's turn to ignore the pain caused by his arms as he replied slowly, "Someone tried to steal something from me."

"Looks like they succeeded."

".....Yea."

"Why don't you complain to the authorities?"

".....They wouldn't believe me..." the boy murmured softly, voice almost cracking from sadness.

The man nodded in understanding, "A high-profile figure, huh?"

The boy nodded in response. The man didn't push any further and refocused on treating the boy's arms.

A few silent minutes later, the man stood up, "I'm done treating it for today. Get some rest, and don't bother me too much."

He walked out, leaving the boy in the room to his own thoughts.

'I should sit up-'

"ARRGH!" the boy screamed in pain as he tried to put pressure on his hands. Pain seemed to explode from every finger, every muscle, and threatened to overtake him.

The screaming subsided with the pain, leaving the boy in a ragged mess of sweat and tears.

Outside, the room, the man sat at a desk shaking his head. 'Idiot, I told him to get rest.'

---------

Two days later, the boy still lay in bed. But this time was somewhat different.

The boy kept eying the door, his obsidian black eyes shimmering with impatience. The door creaked open as the man, no - as Yetri, walked in.

"Yetri sir!" the boy greeted enthusiastically.

"Haaah," Yetri sighed. "How are you feeling?"

"It still hurts like hell whenever I try to move them, but other than that I am fine," the boy replied with the same energy.

Yetri eyed the boy, who seemed like a totally different person than the seemingly dead body that had been dumped at his clinic two days prior.

Rubbing his eyelids, Yetri listened to the boy, Kalsen, yammer on about how the bed felt and whatnot.

The pair had exchanged their names just yesterday in an exchange that went something like this:

"Sir, siir, siiiir, please tell me your name!"

"No."

"Pleaseeee?"

"If I tell you, will you shut up for the rest of the day?"

"Okay!"

"Yetri."

"Yetri Sir!"

"Now shut up."

"Yetri Sir! Thank you for saving me!"

"Zip it."

"My name is Kalsen! My mom always told me to introduce myself politely if someone else... *blah* *blah* *blah*"

"..."

Back to the present, Kalsen proceeded to make Yetri's ears bleed with the excessive amount of words that left his mouth.

Tuning out the noise, Yetri continued to check Kalsen's injuries.

'Arms' are healing the best that they can.'

Shifting his gaze from the arms, Yetri checked Kalsen's bandages on his head. When Yetri found Kalsen, he had several significant cuts, burnt arms, fractured ribs, and a gash on the back of his head.

Re-fixing the bandage around Kalsen's head, Yetri said, "Your head is physically ok."

"Great!"

"...I can only wonder what happened mentally...." Yetri mumbled under his breath.

"Did you say something Yetri sir?"

"Nothing. You can be discharged within two days now. You're practically healed." Yetri announced lazily as he made his way out of the room.

His words knocked the breath out of Kalsen just like the kick to his ribs.

"B-but, my arms-," Kalsen fumbled.

"I've done what I can. They won't go back to normal." Yetri yawned and closed the door shutting the door on a shocked Kalsen.

------------

The next day, Yetri was ushering out a Kalsen who couldn't look more betrayed.

"Didn't you say two days?" Kalsen glared.

"You got better faster than expected," Yetri countered while wrapping bandages around Kalsen's arms.

"Hmph," Kalsen scrunched up his face and looked away. Kalsen was not angry because his arms couldn't be fixed. Instead these past few days in the company of the monotonous Yetri, Kalsen felt comfortable. Finally, after a long time, no one was chasing after him, where he had food to eat on a timely basis, and where he could sleep without worry.

But now even Yetri didn't want him, so he would have to find a way to survive alone, Like always.

'Right. Just like always.' Kalsen mentally reassured himself mentally.

When Yetri was done, Kalsen inadvertently looked at Yetri who walked back to his desk without saying a word. Shaking his head angrily, Kalsen started out.

"Oye, kid before I forget, take this medicine. It's to help your arms. Apply it at least once a day and whenever it starts to hurt." Yetri called out from behind the counter.

Kalsen stopped and then walked backward slowly. Kalsen, still staring at the door, extended his arm behind him silently waiting.

"If you don't look at me, I won't give you the recipe for the medicine that you need," Yetri stated lazily as he twirled the flask of medicine just above Kalsen's arms.

Begrudgingly Kalsen turned out to look at Yetri. The nurse/doctor who had saved his life. His gray hair flopped on his head like a mess as he started back at Kalsen with his pale blue eyes.

Nodding, Yetri placed the flask onto Kalsen's hand gently next to which was a scribbled note with instructions.

"Now get out." Yetri waved his hand and shooed away Kalsen.