Inochi's POV.
The sun had barely begun to rise, its light struggling to pierce the dense gray haze under the bridge. I stood in silence, leaning against the cold concrete, my blade form nestled at Y/N's side. He was sprawled on the damp ground, hair disheveled, kimono torn, and blood staining the already dirtied fabric.
My guilt twisted like a knife in my chest. I'd been quiet since yesterday, unsure what to say to him, unsure if I even deserved to speak. Y/N—my creator, my wielder, and the only one I'd ever truly cared for—had been through too much. Yet all I'd done was watch, useless and silent.
He stirred, groaning, and I tensed. "Y/N?" I whispered softly.
His head snapped toward me, his mismatched eyes burning with a feral intensity. The rabies. My heart sank as I realized he must've forgotten to take those cursed pills.
"Mine," he growled, voice guttural and inhuman. His teeth bared like an animal's as he lunged toward me.
I sighed. "Of course. This is my life now."
His teeth clamped down on my arm, and I felt... nothing. Because, well, I'm metal. "Go ahead, bite all you want. You're not exactly a threat to a katana," I muttered dryly. His nails dug into my other arm, and I winced at the sound of fabric tearing, but there wasn't much else he could do.
I crouched, carefully prying his teeth off my arm. "Alright, that's enough of that. We're going to see Kuchisake, whether you like it or not."
His response was a guttural snarl, followed by an attempt to headbutt me. It didn't hurt, of course, but the blood trickling down his forehead made my chest ache with something close to heartbreak.
I transformed into my humanoid form, stretching as I adjusted to the weight of my body. Standing at 7'2", I towered over him. My silver hair, tied back in a high ponytail, swayed as I leaned down to lift him. He thrashed, clawing at my arms and even managing to bite my wrist.
"You know," I said, hoisting him over my shoulder like a particularly unruly sack of potatoes, "if you wanted attention, you could've just asked."
He snarled something incoherent, gnawing on my shoulder now.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, "chew away. You're not even denting the skin."
I began the trek to Kuchisake's hospital. The streets were eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that only made the shadows seem darker. Y/N kept struggling, occasionally managing to swipe at my face or kick at my legs, but I didn't let him go.
"You're lucky I'm made of metal," I said. "Any other companion would've dumped you in the river by now."
The shadows along the walls seemed to shift and laugh as I walked. Y/N's rabies-induced schizophrenia was leaking into the air around him, turning the world into a distorted funhouse of horrors. One particularly grotesque shadow—a mass of limbs and eyes—waved at me as I passed.
"Nice to see you too," I muttered.
Y/N, still slumped over my shoulder, laughed maniacally. "Did you see that one? It's got your nose!"
"Funny. I don't even have a nose in my blade form," I replied dryly.
The hospital came into view, its sterile white exterior looking like a beacon of misplaced hope.
"Alright, Y/N," I said, adjusting my grip on him. "Time to see your favorite doctor."
He snarled something about not needing help, but his words were slurred, his body weakening. I kicked the hospital doors open with a resounding bang.
"Kuchisake!" I called out, my voice echoing through the eerily empty hallways.
The sound of heels clicking against the tile floor reached my ears before she appeared. Kuchisake, the slit-mouthed urban legend, stepped into view, her eerie smile somehow managing to look both amused and predatory.
"Inochi," she greeted, her tone dripping with faux politeness. "And what brings you and our dear Y/N here at this hour?"
I hoisted him higher on my shoulder. "Rabies. Schizophrenia. A bad day. Take your pick."
She tilted her head, examining Y/N with a clinical gaze that didn't quite mask the glint of something... off in her eyes.
"I see," she said, approaching us. "Set him down on the table. I'll handle it from here."
I hesitated. I didn't trust her. Not after what happened last time.
"I'll stay," I said firmly.
Her smile widened, the corners of her mouth splitting further. "Suit yourself."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "This will put him to sleep for a while. We'll sort out the rest after."
Y/N growled, thrashing weakly as she approached. "No needles!" he slurred.
"Sorry, kiddo," Kuchisake said, her tone anything but apologetic, as she jabbed the syringe into his arm.
He went limp almost instantly, his body relaxing against me as his breathing evened out.
"Put him in a private room," Kuchisake instructed, gesturing to a door down the hall. "It's already prepared."
Private room? Suspicious. I narrowed my eyes at her but didn't argue, lifting Y/N once more and carrying him to the room. The bed was neatly made, a stark contrast to the rest of the chaotic hospital.
I laid him down gently, brushing his messy white hair out of his face. His forehead was still bleeding, the crimson stark against his pale skin.
Kuchisake appeared in the doorway, her ever-present smile sending a chill down my spine.
"Are you leaving?" she asked, her tone deceptively casual.
I sat on the edge of the bed, crossing my arms. "No."
Her smile faltered for the briefest of moments before she shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said again, disappearing into the hallway.
I glanced down at Y/N, his face finally peaceful in sleep.
"You really need to take better care of yourself," I whispered. "You're not as invincible as you think."
And I would make sure he stayed safe. No matter what.
---
The room was quiet now, save for the rhythmic hum of the machines monitoring Y/N's vitals. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at him, my metal skin gleaming faintly under the harsh fluorescent lights. Y/N looked vulnerable, far removed from the omnipotent and nearly comical figure he usually was. The crimson streaks from his forehead and arm painted a somber picture, a reminder of just how much he endured—and how much he hid from everyone, even me.
I rested my chin on my palm, watching the rise and fall of his chest. "Why do you keep pushing yourself like this, Y/N?" I muttered. "You act like it doesn't hurt, but it does, doesn't it? And you... you think you have to carry it all alone."
My own words weighed heavily in the sterile room. I sighed, leaning back slightly. His blood was still wet, and while I didn't have the same tactile sense as a human, I could feel its warmth through the metal plating of my arm. It felt wrong, seeing him like this. Y/N, the God of Reality, undone by his own body.
Kuchisake entered the room again, this time with a tray of supplies. Bandages, antiseptics, gauze—tools of temporary repair. She moved with an eerie precision, setting the tray down on the counter and pulling on a pair of gloves. The deliberate snap of the latex against her wrist grated on my nerves.
"You could leave," she said without looking at me. Her voice was calm, almost clinical. "I'll take care of him."
I didn't move from my spot. "And why would I do that?"
Her lips stretched into a wide smile, that too-perfect, too-sharp expression of hers that made my steel instincts bristle. "You don't trust me, do you?" She reached for the antiseptic and began preparing to clean Y/N's wounds. "I suppose that's fair."
"No," I replied, my voice sharp and unforgiving, "I don't."
She chuckled, the sound echoing in the small space. "You wound me, Inochi. Do you think I'm going to hurt him? Again?"
The way she phrased it was intentional, a dagger aimed squarely at my suspicion. I didn't rise to the bait, though my fists clenched tightly in my lap.
"I'm staying," I said firmly. "That's not up for debate."
Kuchisake shrugged, seemingly indifferent. "Suit yourself, oh mighty sword." She dabbed a cotton pad into the antiseptic and leaned down toward Y/N's forehead. I watched her every move like a hawk, ready to intervene if she so much as hinted at crossing a line.
Y/N stirred slightly as the cool liquid touched his skin, a quiet groan slipping from his lips. I exhaled deeply, feeling the tension in my shoulders lessen just a fraction. He was still here, still alive.
Kuchisake worked quickly, cleaning the wounds with an almost unnerving efficiency. "You know," she began, her tone conversational, "he doesn't need your protection as much as you think he does."
I raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because the rabies, the schizophrenia, and the blood on his head beg to differ."
Her laugh was light but carried an edge. "You misunderstand me. Y/N is stronger than you realize. He chooses not to show it, but he carries more than anyone should. That kind of strength..." She paused, her smile softening just a little. "It's rare. And dangerous."
I didn't answer. Her words lingered in the air, and I hated that a part of me agreed. Y/N was strong—too strong, perhaps. But that strength came at a cost, one he refused to acknowledge, even to those closest to him.
The sound of Kuchisake's gloves snapping off jolted me from my thoughts. She discarded them into the bin and turned to face me, her hands on her hips. "He'll be out for a while. The midazolam will keep him asleep long enough for the worst of his symptoms to subside."
"And after that?" I asked, my voice cold.
She tilted her head, her smile returning in full force. "After that, we'll see."
I stood, towering over her, my silver hair catching the faint glow of the overhead lights. "If you try anything—"
Her laugh cut me off, sharp and mocking. "Oh, Inochi. Do you really think you're the only one who cares about him?" She leaned closer, her slit mouth twisting into a smirk. "You're not."
I narrowed my eyes, my hand twitching as if to reach for a blade I no longer carried in this form. But instead of replying, I turned back to Y/N. He needed me more than I needed to deal with her games.
Hours passed. Kuchisake left the room at some point, her absence both a relief and an unease. I stayed by Y/N's side, refusing to leave even as my mind raced with doubts and worries. His breathing remained steady, the occasional twitch or murmur the only signs of his unrest.
I found myself speaking to him, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. "You know," I began, my voice low, "I've been with you for so long, and I still don't understand you completely. You're always putting others first, always smiling even when it hurts. Do you think we don't notice?"
My gaze fell to his face, the mismatched eyes that were now closed, the faint scar above his brow that I'd seen him earn centuries ago. "You're not just a god, Y/N. You're you. And that's enough. You don't have to be everything for everyone all the time."
The silence that followed felt heavy, almost oppressive. I reached out, brushing a strand of his white hair away from his face. "If you could just let yourself rest... maybe then you wouldn't be breaking apart like this."
The door creaked open, and I stiffened, my hand falling away as Kuchisake stepped back inside. She held a clipboard, her expression unreadable. "Vitals are stable," she said, her tone neutral. "He'll be fine. For now."
I didn't respond, my gaze locked on Y/N. She moved to the corner of the room, leaning against the wall and flipping through the pages on her clipboard.
"You're awfully quiet," she remarked after a moment. "Not like you."
I shot her a glare. "Do you ever stop talking?"
Her smile returned, infuriatingly calm. "Not when I'm having fun."
I turned my attention back to Y/N, dismissing her entirely. The minutes dragged on, the weight of the room pressing down on me. My mind wandered, memories of our shared battles and adventures flickering like a reel in my head.
It was close to midnight when Y/N stirred again. His fingers twitched, his breathing shifting as the sedative began to wear off. I leaned forward, watching him carefully.
"Y/N?" I whispered.
His eyes fluttered open, the mismatched colors dull and unfocused. He blinked slowly, confusion flickering across his face. "Inochi...?"
I smiled softly, relief flooding through me. "Yeah, it's me. You're safe."
He tried to sit up, but I gently pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Easy. You've been through a lot."
He groaned, rubbing at his temple. "Feels like I got hit by a truck."
"That's just the rabies and the schizophrenia talking," I replied, trying to keep my tone light. "Oh, and maybe the midazolam."
He frowned, his expression clouded. "Mid... what?"
"Don't worry about it," I said quickly. "Just rest."
Kuchisake stepped forward, her presence immediately drawing his attention. His gaze hardened, and for a moment, the feral intensity from earlier flickered in his eyes. But he was too weak to do anything more than glare.
"You," he growled.
"Me," she replied, her tone almost teasing. "Good to see you awake, Y/N. How's the head?"
His glare didn't waver, but he didn't respond. I placed a hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to me. "It's okay," I said quietly. "She didn't do anything."
For once, Kuchisake didn't add a snide comment. She simply stood there, watching us with an unreadable expression. It made my skin crawl.
I stayed by Y/N's side, my resolve stronger than ever. No matter what it took, I would protect him. From the world, from his own demons, and from anyone who dared to hurt him again.
Y/N stared at the ceiling, his mismatched eyes clouded with confusion. His usual energy was gone, replaced by a muted stillness that unnerved me. He kept blinking, as if trying to piece something together but failing. I watched him carefully, my silver hair falling over my shoulder as I leaned forward.
"Inochi..." he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "Why... am I here?"
The question hit me harder than I expected. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. My fingers tightened around the edge of the bed. "You don't remember?" I asked cautiously.
He shook his head, wincing at the motion. "I remember... pieces. Like... I was under a bridge, right? And you... you were there?"
I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. You weren't doing so great. I had to bring you here... to get help."
His brows furrowed, frustration flashing in his eyes. "I... I can't remember why I was under that bridge. Or... why I feel like I've been hit by a hurricane."
"You were sick," I explained gently. "The rabies—you forgot your medicine, and it got worse. It's been a rough day, Y/N."
He closed his eyes, his hands curling into fists against the hospital bed's sheets. "I don't get it... Everything feels... blurry. Like I'm trying to hold onto water."
Kuchisake, who had been silent in the corner, finally spoke. "Memory loss isn't uncommon after extreme physical and emotional stress, especially when compounded by sedation and illness."
Y/N's eyes snapped to her, and I could see the distrust there, the tension in his jaw. He didn't say anything to her, though. Instead, he looked back at me, seeking reassurance.
"It's okay," I said quickly, shooting Kuchisake a warning glance. "It's temporary. You'll get your memories back once you've rested more."
He nodded slowly, but the uncertainty in his expression didn't fade. "I feel... off. Like... I'm not all here."
"You're here," I assured him. "And that's what matters right now."
For a moment, the room was quiet. Y/N's breathing filled the silence, steady but shallow. He stared at the ceiling, his mismatched eyes distant. I could tell he was searching for answers, trying to make sense of the fragments in his mind.
"I remember something," he said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was... angry. Really angry. But I don't know why."
I hesitated. How was I supposed to explain it? How could I tell him about the way he'd snarled and lashed out like a wild animal, biting at his own arm, gnawing at me as I carried him through the streets? How could I describe the blood and the pain in his eyes without making him feel worse?
"You weren't yourself," I said carefully. "The rabies... it made you act out. But it wasn't your fault."
He frowned, his hand drifting to his bandaged arm. "I hurt myself, didn't I?"
"You were trying to bite through metal," I said with a weak smile, hoping to lighten the mood. "I'd say you gave it your best shot."
To my relief, he chuckled softly, though it was a strained sound. "Guess I need better teeth."
"You're fine," I said firmly. "You're healing. That's all that matters."
Kuchisake approached the bed, her footsteps deliberate. "You'll need to stay here for at least another day," she said, her tone clinical. "Your body needs time to recover. I'll bring something to help with the pain and confusion."
Y/N stiffened, his gaze narrowing. "I don't want anything from you."
Her smile returned, sharp and unyielding. "You don't have a choice, Y/N. If you want to survive, you need me."
I stood abruptly, placing myself between her and the bed. "He's had enough," I said, my voice low and cold. "If he needs something, I'll take care of it."
Kuchisake raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. Instead, she shrugged and turned toward the door. "Suit yourself. Just don't forget—he wouldn't be here without me."
I clenched my fists, my steel skin groaning softly under the pressure. But I didn't respond. She didn't deserve the satisfaction.
Once she was gone, I sat back down, exhaling deeply. Y/N was watching me, his expression unreadable. "Inochi," he said quietly, "why are you so... protective?"
The question caught me off guard. I blinked, searching for an answer. "Because you're important," I said simply. "You mean a lot to me. To all of us."
He tilted his head, his eyes softening. "Even when I mess up?"
"Especially then," I said firmly. "You're not just a god, Y/N. You're... you. And that's more than enough."
He didn't reply, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there. And for now, that was enough.
As he drifted back to sleep, I stayed by his side, the tension in my chest easing just a little. Whatever came next, I would be ready. For him, I would always be ready.