An obasan's (old lady/grandma) POV:
My troublesome husband brought some random person to the clinic, again! -_-
He had an unconscious boy with a long black cloak and a snow-white hair on his back.
"*Sigh* Who did you bring this time?" I asked with irritation while placing two of my fingers on my forehead.
"H-honey, don't be like this, he is sick, and he is only a child" He replied with sympathy. I sighed once again and started to prepare one of the clinic beds. "I don't think children usually have hidden knives in their clothes, let alone this creepy mask" I said pointing at what I just mentioned.
"We will discuss that later when he wakes up, now bring me my implements, he doesn't seem to be in a very good condition" He said attracting my attention to the boy's heavy breath. His face, or at least the half that was shown, was light red, which I considered as a fever. "Lay him here while I prepare everything" I said quitting my scolding moment, switching the nurse mode on.
I went into the equipment room, it took me about 20 minutes to come back to where my husband was treating the mysterious boy. And to my surprise, I found him sitting beside the boy's bed with teary eyes and with his wrinkled old face all red. "Darling," I said, "You can't cry every time you're treating a sick patient, you're a doctor, pull yourself together!" I scolded once again, I mean, it's not the first time, but the last time he cried over a patient was a decade ago, when did he regain his old habits?
"N-no, it-it's not like that, but this boy- he's-" My softhearted crybaby husband said with hiccups. He pointed at the laying boy who was still panting heavily, the boy hadn't his half-mask on, which I realized was in my husband's hands. I took a few steps forward to help my bad eyesight see what my husband was pointing at. Then I saw..... I gasped, surprised by what I saw, I put my hands over my mouth with... horror.
His left side of the face was covered in deep scars in random directions in the most.....I would say, disgusting way. But that was not the worst part, it was his eye. His eye.... was missing! I could tell that it was torn off by force.
"W-what in the whole world i-is this!" I said nauseated. This is atrocious! I've never seen anything this cruel my whole life, even when I had treated war injuries.
"It's not just the face". I got startled by what I heard, I blanked for a moment, not wanting to see what he was talking about. He started slowly lifting the white thin blanket on the top of the pale boy.
"I don't want to see!" I yelled unintentionally. An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a few seconds.
"O-oh, sorry" he mumbled.
Silence remained again for a few minutes, my husband's subs got quieter. I took a deep breath and tried to act and sound normal. "D-did you give him any medicine? or at least antipyretic?" I stated.
"I couldn't diagnose this illness, so I didn't want to give him anything randomly, but yeah, I guess an antipyretic pill won't hurt" He said and got up from his chair walking downstairs to the drugstore.
I took a few further steps to the bed. I hesitantly reached my cold hand out barely touching the burned up forehead with my fingertips, I gave a painful sigh and whispered.
"Poor child"...