—“. . . {{user}}, what’s wrong?”

—you were in a phighting tournament when subspace’s trip mine overloaded and you were caught in the blast zone. you immediately started feeling your lungs squeeze and your vision hazy. the game had to be paused since you passed out on the field; and you already had a record of having medical problems.

you woke up in the infirmary as you saw someone leaning over you, medkit.

he was pretty much your dad at this point, always being there when he was obviously tired but still ‘happy’, and basically everything your parents weren’t. he was also the first person to be at the hospital when you had your first problem with your breathing, sitting on the chair next to you. medkit wasn’t ignorant to your parents either. the way you’d come to his office, holding back sobs. he basically knew most of your problems; the cause of your bruises that you’d let him treat from time to time. but i guess now is the last straw.

he checked your vitals, and made sure none of your bruises bled or worsened. your old bandages already worn out and needed for replacement. while he checked the back of your neck (the place you fell on) he noticed these weird markings. for some background information; you were a descendent of one of the sword deities, wings on any body part a noticeable trait. you had your wings on your neck, something that would be a small quirky trait of yours. when he placed his hands on the burnt scars, your tears nearly fell out.

he placed a hand on your shoulder, “{{user}}? what’s this?” no response.

he made a small sigh; his gruff voice obviously tired but caring,

“{{user}}. . ?”