Heroes to Hunted

The room we entered had three single-person mattresses on the right side. On either side of each was a pure white, embroidered curtain suspended from a mobile rack of steel bars. To the left, there stood several glass cabinets. Like the shelving below, each boasted more liquid-filled vials amongst a few miscellaneous items.

The kid nudged Agawa and Kamida, ordering them to lie Sato and Nakamura on their respective beds. But the two only met him with stares of hesitation.

"We probably shouldn't stay here too long," Agawa asserted to the kid. She then pointed to both Sato and Nakamura. "These two really need medical attention."

"Clinic," the kid remarked. "This is a clinic."

"Really?! We made it?!" Agawa chirped in excitement.

"Keep it down!" I snapped. Though the kid was seemingly helping us, we had no idea how his parents would react. Plus, I was still skeptical of the kid. The only reason why I didn't act on it was because we had nowhere else to go. Despite my doubt, I still felt relief on the off chance that we succeeded in saving Sato.

Still giddy from the kid's declaration, Agawa wasted no time placing Sato on one of the beds. The wooden frame cried out an ear-grating grinding sound with each inch he'd sunk in.

Now free from Sato's weight, she started performing stretches, loosening her tired muscles with a series of audible "pops."

Likewise, Kamida followed a similar process with the doctor, except Nakamura was the one whimpering when he'd made contact with the frame.

Seeing his leg, I could tell why. Beyond the bandana bandage, the veins around his bite were blackened. Like the corpses from earlier, they coiled up his leg like a horde of thin snakes.

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"Green Blight," the kid remarked, pointing at Nakamura's swollen ankle.

"Green blight?" he looked puzzled at the diagnosis. "Is there an infection named that?"

The kid didn't answer; instead, he reached into a nearby cabinet to pull a vial containing black fluid. With the vial in hand, he marched to the doctor and thrust the small bottle into his face. "Drink," the kid commanded.

Nakamura raised his hands in a polite refusal. "Oh, uh, thank you! But I think I'll pass," he laughed awkwardly. He must've not been comfortable having a child prescribe him strange substances as medicine.

The kid clenched his teeth and hands in frustration. He'd been shaking so much that I thought he'd shatter the bottle in his hand. "Drink!" he ordered, practically throwing the vial in the doctor's face. "Or you'll die."

That last part startled everyone, unaware of whether the kid was warning or threatening us. Whichever it was, I wouldn't let a kid push us around. "Hey, you little bra-"

Cutting me off was the distinct sound of a "pop," followed by rhythmic glugging.

I turned to see that the sealing cork for the bottle was now discarded beside Nakamura. Small driblets of black ooze dripped down his neck while he chugged away the contents of the flask.

"Stop that!" I ordered. After seeing an empty bottle, I knew I was too late.

"Ugh," Nakamura groaned and wiped his mouth, "the best medicine always has the worst taste, doesn't it?" he clasped his hands and bowed his head. "I thank you!" he finished by parting his mouth, forming a full grin toward the distressed kid.

The kid's cheeks turned a rosy red, which he frantically tried to hide. Briefly, I noticed him glancing at Sato before returning to the cabinet he retrieved the last vial from.

As he rummaged through the shelves, pushing aside vials and flasks, Agawa's gaze was fixed on him. It was as if she was trying to discern a blurry figure standing in the distance. Suddenly, her eyes widened with a sudden realization, and the spark of an epiphany illuminated her face.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, pointing at him. "You're that kid we saw in the clinic's window earlier!"

He ignored her, though, and continued rifling through the cabinet. When he stopped, he turned to us, holding a bottle in each hand. One contained a deep, vibrant red liquid, and the other contained a viscous, transparent, tar-like substance.

He paced up to Agawa, grunting at her and handing her the red vial. "Unconscious guy, drink."

"What is this?" Agawa questioned, appraising the vial using a nearby candle. The liquid brightened as she swirled it, appearing to absorb the candle's light rather than reflect it.

"Medicine," he flatly responded.

Though Nakamura had accepted his treatment, Agawa hesitated. She was endlessly stuck with indecision, analyzing the vial. "I really don't know what to do," she laughed nervously.

"It's alright." Nakamura urged Agawa. "It's fine. Just give it to Sato."

Even given a doctor's approval, she still hesitated. I didn't blame her; I'd never seen medicine like this before, and it reeked of shadiness. 'How the hell is some liquid gonna do for him now, anyway?' I griped. 'He needs stitches, not cold medicine!'

I reached out to check the vial when the kid clicked his tongue in frustration and snatched it away.

"Watch," the kid pulled a scalpel from his pocket, holding it toward us.

The suspicious movement set me on edge, so I raised my fists and assumed a guarded stance. I knew he was just a child, but I wouldn't underestimate anyone or anything in this town.

'If this kid wants a fight, I won't hold back!' I was ready to pounce on him at a moment's notice. At least I was until he slashed his arm with a single, deep cut.

"What are you doing?!" Agawa cried out.

Following her were the loud concerns of the doctor as he struggled to stand up. "Kid, we need to stitch that up right away!"

"Shut up and watch!" the kid snapped. Then, wincing, he held his reddened arm in full view of us.

His surprising resolve rooted us each in place and held our tongues.

We followed his command and watched silently as gouts of blood streamed down his skin. He flicked the cork off of the vial and took a deep swig. Though I was obviously no doctor, I knew what we witnessed was nothing short of a medical miracle.

With a few drops of whatever he'd just swallowed, the skin on the kid's lacerated arm began to stitch itself back together. Like strands of lace, the flesh regrew and intertwined until the cut was completely sealed. Before long, the only indication that his wound had ever existed was the blood stains on the floor below.

We were all shocked by what we had just witnessed. However, only Nakamura's jaw hit the floor in shock while he gasped in disbelief.

"What was that?!" he nearly shouted in awe.

"Medicine." The kid declared matter-of-factly, then attempted again to hand Agawa the vial. "DRINK," he sternly ordered with dwindling patience.

Thoroughly convinced, Agawa uncorked the bottle and positioned it over Sato's mouth. However, before a drop could leave the vial, the door flung open with the strength of a raging middle-aged man.

"What the hell are you doing, Roman?!" His forehead creased with fury, and it seemed as though steam was about to burst from his clenched teeth.

He was standard for a man of his age. Not exceptionally well-built and not overly out of shape. What stood out were the darkened purple blotches that hung heavy under his eyes and his horribly stained white overalls paired with dirtied beige trousers.

'He must be the father,' I thought to myself, then assumed an attacking stance.