God how I hate fluorescent lights.
They emit a sickly persistent whir of heart monitors wired to the nearly dead. Why do they keep plugging those things in anyways? Anyone unconscious should be left alone until they get their bearings back.
Ouch, I have a terrible headache. I try to open my eyes. Ow. The lights are too bright. I can make out the figure of a old man though; the heck he wants to do with me? He can go engage in coitus with himself if he want to take my blood again, pretty sure they're just milking my blood anyways.
"Ah, you woke up. We really thought we lost you. After all, he did cut your right leg…"
Oh yeah, my leg hurts like someone is running a chainsaw through it right now.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
"Oh no, don't move."
The doctor pins me down. He's stronger than he looks. Even if I had a knife I doubt I could win in a fight with him . Unfortunately, I am incapacitated… And he took all me equipment from me — not like I really had anything.
"We can't administer you sedatives as they are for surgeries. I'll bring you painkillers. Just don't kill yourself before then."
I fall limp on the bed. Hah, yeah, I won't. I did see a scalpel on the bedside counter just now. If I can just-
Oh, he took it with him. What a shame. Ouch, my head hurts. The only thing I can think of now is pain, pain, and more pain.
I feel a pill shoved down my throat and a cup of water handed to me. I chug it down, forgetting everything my mom taught about not talking drinks from people you don't know well. Oh, yeah, that feels better. My vision clears and I see the doctor looking down at me.
"You're a tough one, most people would have gotten off the bed and be crawling on the ground asking to be killed right now."
No, I am not tough, I feel like killing myself. The only reason I haven't is because I don't have a single nugget of energy left. The pain subsides, and my senses recover their functionality. I can think now, dope. I can make out artillery explosions from the distance. Huh, this clinic must be pretty close to the frontline then.
Oh.
Oh yeah.
I was wounded while fighting. A man drove a serrated bayonet through my leg. I would have died my blood loss, as a virgin too. Damn.
"You should refrain from running now. The enemy soldier ripped some muscle. You'll have to walk with a cane now."
S-so I'll get decommissioned?? Hell ye-
"You'll be a reconnoissance sniper, tough, I know."
The doctor might as well have told me to go to hell.
There are extremely few snipers in the army now, as being one usually warranted a slow and painful death through torture. There are have been 296 reconnaissance snipers in the war and all have either died, imprisoned, or defected. I will admit I'm a bit confused though. The army usually chose men who hed beautiful wives or happy lives to be snipers as they had a lower chance of defecting. Seems like they ran out of them.
"Call me Hakawaru-sensei. I'm a retired officer. You have to leave tomorrow night for your first mission. Your leg would be numbed so you can think, so count yourself lucky"
Ah, he is right about that. Although I do recall hearing the name Hakamada somewhere. The pain in my leg lessens and I bring myself to look down. My bones weren't fractured and luckily there are only some thick bandages covering my right thigh. Loud gunshots ring out in the distance before there was silence; I don't flinch.
"You have the making of a good sniper. Sharpen yourself and maybe you'll actually have a chance at coming back home."
I only nod in response, but do give his words some thought. Where am I going then? My parents won't even hesitate to throw me out, and my relatives won't be so kind either.
Where do I belong?
Can I even belong anywhere?
I ask him about the current war and the how things were with his family before Hakawaru-sensei's work shift ends. He gives me a bottle of painkiller with a few doses on adrenaline before biding me farewell and going to sleep himself.
Unlike Hakawaru-sensei, Hinaga did not get any sleep that night