Recovering From a Fatal Moment (Open)

MUSE

A full day passed by since that battle occurred. It turned out to be a bloody mess in the end, and Gawain was the victim of it. So, there he sat in that lonesome room, having awakened from his slumber to the caressing rays of the sun, only to begin rubbing his eyes to become accustomed to the new day's light. In his white garment made for hospitalized patients -a singular piece of clothing that covered his body from top to bottom-, Gawain sat in that clean and pure room, filled with just his single bed, a window to the illustrious outside, a few medicinal cabinets there and there, and many other objects that Gawain didn't quite know what they were; they were all still useful in some way or form to the boy, even if he didn't know their use or if they weren't involved in his recovery.

Moving his right hand up to the wounded area, still feeling the injury he received from only a day before, Gawain felt the error of his action as he felt a sudden sting in the injury as he began rubbing it with a gentle motion. Considering that he'd only been recovering for 24 hours, in the event of any sudden and additional force applied to the injury, the wounded area would reopen and Gawain'd start bleeding again; however, the situation would be much less drastic than the initial case. So, as a result of his rubbing, Gawain accidentally opened a flow of blood; at least the bandage that covered his head was able to absorb most, if not all, of the matter. With a disappointed sigh, after having felt the wet bloody spot, Gawain looked out the window to his room, wondering how long time would take until he was a good-enough state to leave.

The sound of Yin's upset feet echoed in the hall. It wasn't long ago she had heard what had happened, and she was certain it was her fault. She knew to choose her words more carefully, yes? Callous, however, was her nature, and the words simply feel out as such. Her hands rolled into tight fists, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. She bit back on a whimper, her eyes going red, but never crying. She would never cry. That's for those with weakness. This was... A mere speed bump. Any feeling she had right now was simply a lesson. She would choose her words more carefully with this one, and avoid injury for either of them.

Turning the corner, she simply stared from Gawain's doorway. Part of her willed herself to turn around once she got a look at the wound. Biting her lip, she pressed herself on through the doorway, and to the sink to wet a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket. "J-just what were you thinking there? Y-you're comrades. There's no need to take it so far, you know?" Wringing the cloth out, she walked over to her acquittance, washing his face of whatever blood had managed to escape the cloth. "Y-... You have my apologies Gawain. Our paths are different, but you are no coward." She continued, averting her eyes to avoid his. She couldn't help a deep feeling of humiliation, being matched by the feeling that she deserved it for this. After all, this could have gone much worse for him. She had no other though in her mind than crushing his opponent, but knew it was hardly appropriate. "D-do you need anything? I would be happy to get you something." She explained, retracting the bloodied fabric, and giving an apologetic bow.

In the midst of the morning silence, Gawain thought about his actions from the previous day that ended up putting him in the hospital. There we were, standing across one another in the arena. He was strong, far superior than me, but why did I continue to fight? With a bloodied face, I should've stopped, so why? With the birds chirping, Gawain pondered on his purpose in that fight, wanting to understand why he persisted in the spar. With the condition he was in, then it was more than likely that if Soyata had struck one more time across his head, Gawain might've not even been there. As a tactician and warrior himself, Gawain knew part of this to be true, but he fought until he himself fell unconscious. Gawain simply didn't know if he just wanted to prove that he could have a proper fight, or that he too was a warrior. Nevertheless, with an open of the door, Gawain's apathetic and contemplating gaze ended for him to engage in livelihood with a considerate rival.

To Gawain, he never truly expected Yín to just come and worry about his condition like how she was right then and there. With her own handkerchief that she herself owned, Yín washed the bloody mess that escaped from his bandaged forehead and even tried consoling him about the previous day's actions all to Gawain's admiration. Having changed his surprised expression of his rival helping him to a more considerate, friendly look, accompanied by a kind smile, Gawain shook his head at Yín's desire to help before looking around for his notebook, wanting to at least communicate with his compatriot that way.

At least he seemed well enough. His movements were fairly coordinated, and eyes looked alert. At first glance she assumed the worst. He had taken a pretty hard hit, and his wound certainly didn't look pretty. She had to stay thankful for the fact that he wasn't a vegetable. After all, it likely would have been her fault. If anything in her own eyes. To be sure, she had a bone to pick Mr Soyata. Anyone who treated a comrade with such brutality was dead weight anyways. No one would miss him.

Noting Gawain's look, Yín tilted her head, before catching up. "O-oh!" She remarked, turning to assist him find the notebook, to find it on a nearby counter. "Here." She offered to him, fighting the crack in her voice.

He had been iffy about visiting, as he was the one who caused the injury, but it had been a day since then, and he had to go to say sorry at least. He wasn't sure if anyone would visit, but it was still a requirement to go visit whom he injured, and one of the first people he hasn't killed after fighting. He had some respect for the boy, having gotten up and all, but he also knew the fact that Gawain did was a horrible idea, and that Gawain was lucky he didn't smash his brains out when he had the chance, but he also knew that it was only when he got really into a fight he did that... and he was almost fully converted when it happens.

He was brought to the room after arriving, and as he walked in, he noticed the woman, and he said to her, "Hello, I'm Soyata." and then he waved to Gawain, too afraid of hate to say anything directly.

Taking his notebook from Yin with a calm, thanking expression, he pulled out the black pen that lied within it as he scrolled to a blank page, noticing that he ended up using practically a quarter of the notepad at that point; Gawain would have to keep that in mind for later. Uncapping his pen and placing the cap on the other end of the pen, Gawain began writing on the page, ready to empty his comments of conversation onto paper for the kind person that had the time to check in on him even though all the troubles they'd gone through.


Raising his head up from his writing, he soon found that Soyata entered the room as well, only to cause him to work on his hello after a calm, friendly wave. Soyata seemed worried, possibly from having put Gawain into the hospital from their simple spar that wasn't supposed to mean any harm between the two combatants. Fortunately, Gawain didn't mean to bare any harm against Soyata, wanting to repair the bridge of friendship they made between the two.


Forcing a smile on his face, Gawain showed his message to his combatant partner, trying to improve his condition past what it already was.

"Please take care in sparring. When I commented on your fighting style, I meant to have you fight cleaner, not harder. Know your limits next time." Yin explained, giving a lazy glance at the newcomer. Seeming to sum him up as he entered. Hearing the name, her expression became just so much distaste. In a swift stroke, Severance was already at bear. Should he let her, she rested the cold steal calmly on his cheek. Had she a reason, she would of swung. She only wished he didn't seem so polite.

She glanced back to Gawain's smile, then back to the stranger, her face never losing it's scowl. "Mr Soyata. Your work is sloppy. Infantile at best. If you ever want to learn how to fight, I'll gladly put you in his position." She stated in the calm yet snippy tone one would expect of a teacher or librarian, before flicking her blade into it's sheath. It was hardly the time or place anyways. "How long till you recover, Gawain?"