Chapter 18:Watermelon

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~*Kyojuro's POV*~
     ... Nausea and bile... that's all I can taste at the back of my throat, gurgling, bubbling, strengthened so very much by the dizziness of my head. My body feels... clammy, a sickening experience accompanied by so much unbelievable pain... I don't feel good. If I wasn't so disoriented, I could figure out what's going on with me, or anything at all...

     A groan shook across my diaphragm  when my self-conscious came to lift my arm out and tiredly push my face off from the cold ground. Icy and jagged, the indentions bruised into my skin. I coughed- more of a gag from the lump of iron stuck in my throat, filling my mouth further to spill over my tongue. My pained limb wobbled against me while my fire-like locks poured out in front of a gaze that won't agree to settle on a steady lens to look through.

     I grimaced, and there splattered a canvas of red onto the area below me. I tried to face forward, at least look around, find a motive to move towards and stay awake, something, anything. Little to say, I found my drive not a moment later. The colors I noticed far away from my position;... they seemed to move in detached ribbons from the blurred cluster of so many other (f,c) hues. They tease me across the space we have yet to close, refusing to let the picture settle down. Or, it might be me who's just unable to do such on my own.

     Those patterns... they look so familiar... they look just like-... What am I trying to remember? I can't rack my brain, I can't understand why they—

     My feet tried to move and get beneath my body when an unimaginable weight of exhaustion slammed down onto my back and splintered splotches of black through my view. A fruitless feat, I know there's no way of reaching what's over there, but... it just feels so very close to my fingertips...

     A low and suffering moan defeat slipped from my bloody lips when I fell back to the ground and succumbed. Succumbed to what? Succumbed... to everything...

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     ... I'm on my back this time, no doubt what you'd call a 'comfy' spot. It's as if I'm laying on rocks. My limbs have turned to absolute lead, only more painful with every itty-bitty move my recovering joints are trying to make. This feels like the fourth... actually,' fifth time I've woken up, hopefully the last I have to. The rest were unsuccessful, but I think I've gotten past the worst of my disorientation. The pain, however... that won't be going away anytime soon.

     The more my senses come back, that discomfort intensifies. The worst of it is in my left leg... it's shot from the hip down. I nudged my eyes open onto the world, reality flashing in and out before resting itself just enough for me to struggle a glance at the concerning side.

     ... No wonder I feel so tender there, everything on the outer part is caked in blood and shrapnel. I think... there's a chunk of sharp flooring in my calf- ugh... I can't even tell at this point; all that matters is that the damage is pretty bad as it is, staring mindlessly won't make it fix itself.

     I set my head back down and closed my lids, spitting out the blood gathering on the inside of my cheek while I shifted my leg up to yank out the large hunk of material. Only a small wince to show my unrest, I was already throwing it off to the side with just a long, stifled grouse. It wasn't that deep anyways, I can handle the pain.

     I know it'll come back to haunt me later once I'm up and moving on it, but at least that's calmed down for now.

     Ready to face my situation head on, I finally gazed to the world that sits above me. Though, as I raise my bushy eyebrows, squint, even rub my eyes to be sure I'm seeing exactly what I'm looking at, I almost wish I'd given myself more time to process everything.

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