#naoyoshi

They cite your progress nearly every time they visit, though privately, you feel guilty at how you’ve come to hate those visits - they bow too deeply, and their smiles stretch their lips too wide, they seem less like healers and more like betters at the races when they know the outcome is to their favor.

Their presence do little to lift your spirits - and you regret asking the boy to leave you to your recuperation. 

But what else could you have done? He’d had to be restrained, though the doctors and guards looked reluctant to do so. You understand he was upset, and now, after some reflection, you recognize the feeling that had driven you to beg his retainers to bring him away - you were not afraid, but his tears had wrenched your heart into such a deep aching, the physicians had had to give you your cure earlier.

("Why don’t you remember me? You said you’d stay by my side forever, you promised…!"

His face haunted your dreams. His accusations stung, and your first instinct had been to apologize, beg his forgiveness - but, as in waking, you were held back, then by his retainers and now by faceless shadows.

He continues to cry. You do not doubt his allegations, or even think to question why you’d promise yourself to a boy you barely recognize.

But before you even muster up the will to call out his name - and you know his name, your lips and tongue know the shapes and syllables of his name - the shadows deepen, and draw you further in, away from him.)

When you come to, the sun is up. You know that today, the physicians will come again. They will tell you, as you dutifully drink the concoction they tout as your medicine, that you are getting better. Soon, they advise, you may even begin to remember. They will smile to reassure you, and you will nod and continue to drink.