Azuma gasped as he woke up.
There was darkness all around.
It took a while for his eyes to adjust, and slowly, he made out silhouettes of a small room with no windows. A couple of simple pieces of furniture were lined, along with a bed that could hold no more than one person.
The image of last night was hauntingly clear in his mind.
Grumbling a few curses under his breath, Azuma dragged himself inside the washroom.
The cold water hissed as Azuma washed his face. Again, and again. The bitterness of the water dimmed his sleepy haze.
But as the running water pooled a bit, it became stained with red. The blood spread, it surged and bubbled into a chaotic mess of grimy incomprehensible things.
And it was everywhere.
On him.
Azuma blinked.
It was all gone.
He took out a small box of pills and swallowed half a handful of them. But he paused, as his eyes caught the sight of his reflection.
