You and me in a playhouse

Being inside of the walls of his apartment came with a stranger and above all unsettling sensation these days. He tried to ignore it, push it to the back of his mind, and pretend it was all fine. He needed some time, that’s all. But already it had been a short few days with no change at all. It in fact only became worse.

Míngzé almost finished feeding all his pokémon, placing the bowls on the ground for every individual when someone knocked on his door. Dai instantly went for a bark session, while cautious red eyes found the door.

For a second too long he stood there unmoving, one bowl still in his hands. Bandages covered his arms, the stitched up wounds hidden beneath.

Míngzé took a deep breath, calming himself before walking up to the door. It would be fine. Just some neighbor. He hated how worried he felt, how his heart was beating faster already.

“Who is there?” he asked, only to be greeted by a familiar voice. Instantly he felt his nerves calm down again as a wave of calmness hit him. With the bowl still in hand he opened the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, the smile on his lips a bit strained as he took a step back to let her inside if that's what she wished for.

Míngzé had shown up at her doorstep unannounced a few times, so he wasn’t that surprised when she did the same for once. Last time he’d brought pizza and now he almost thought Mindo had too. There was a certain smell clinging to her, but it did not hold the sweet aroma of food. It was burned, as if she’d walked through a campfire.

The smile on his face disappeared quickly, making room for concern. It took its place instantly as he quickly shut the door behind them, his movements more rushed. “Fuck, Mindo,” he said, rushing after her. “What happened? Is it bad? Do I need to call an ambulance? Just— wait— give me a second.” Adrenaline started pumping through his veins as he quickly left to get his first aid kit. It was still nearby as he had not taken the effort to put it away yet.

His mind was racing to catch up with everything but was struggling. He placed the small box down next to it, throwing the lit open. After what happened a few days ago, it was mostly empty. “Tell me, what can I do to help?” There was a certain urgency in his voice as he gazed towards her. He might as well be the worst person to go to for help. For all he knew she was bleeding out, lost an arm or whatever and he didn’t know.

During moments like this he truly hated his own incapabilities. The fact that someone, a friend even, needed help and he could do nothing else but the bare minimum. She sounded horrible and was hurt. Where? He had no idea. How bad? No idea either. She might be bleeding out and he would not know. An ambulance was the safest bet, but that was quickly countered.

With a deep frown and a worried expression Míngzé gazed towards her as Mindo tried to form whole sentences. He jumped a little when she pulled the med kid out of his hands. With nothing to do, nothing to hold on to, he rubbed his hands together. “You sure? How bad is it?” His chest felt tight and his heart was beating rapidly. For some reason guilt started creeping up on him, but for what? There was nothing he could do about any of this.

The worried look only deepened when she mentioned how cold it was. Is that not what happened when you lost too much blood? His jaw tensed, afraid that whatever was amiss, would kill her. “Of course, of course, whatever you need,” Míngzé said hurriedly as he already turned to leave and get whatever she needed. Because he doubted she meant a glass of water, he filled a bowl which he placed on the table next to her.

Meanwhile he could hear Mindo try something and Míngzé turned his head towards her. Just what happened? What was going on? There were too many questions racing through his head, fueling the urgency with which he worked.

“A lighter, yes.” There should be one somewhere. And a blanket, he could not forget about that one. He turned to leave for his bedroom when a sharp pain flew through his hip and a loud sound of something hitting the ground followed. It caused Míngzé to hiss. He had collided with one of his other chairs, which now lay toppled over on the ground. With no time to waste he let it be and went for a blanket first. “Here,” he said as he handed it over.

Now only the lighter. Míngzé went to his kitchen that was right behind Mindo, opening and closing every closet and drawer. “Fuck, Mindo, what happened?” he finally managed to ask.

Of all the places Mindo could’ve gone to, she decided his doorstep was the best one. Which was not something Míngzé understood. Out of all of them he was probably the worst one. Totally useless in this situation if you asked him. And yet there she was, barely able to maintain consciousness if he had to trust the weakness in her voice, her incapability of forming full sentences.

“Stitched?” he repeated, shocked by this information. If not for the chair that had been in his way, he would’ve told her to see a doctor. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing, focus on yourself,” he said quickly. The chair was no problem as long as he did not forget about it. Míngzé handed her everything she had asked for, shaking his head as he did. “You can’t possibly think you can do this yourself? This is no movie, Mindo, you need to see a doctor if you’re badly wounded.” However, he felt that whatever he would tell her, would be futile. She won’t listen, like so many people never listened.

An explanation was given, but it barely told him anything. The worrying frown between his brow only grew lager. Glass, fire— just what the fuck? Now that she mentioned it, he could smell it on her. The smoke had latched onto her skin and clothing. With everything else going on he had not noticed.

“Clearly you’re not fine,” Míngzé countered immediately, raising his voice just a little, hoping to get through to her. “What happened to me is unimportant right now.”  Mostly because he did not want to talk about it. How could he, when Mindo had met Lucina?

“How did you cut yourself on glass? Where did the fire come from?” He asked, trying to go back to the real problem at hand. Míngzé had to know more if he wanted to help her even a little bit. His hands found the medkit, where he quickly reached for whatever bandages he could find. All to feel at least a little bit useful.

There was something that caused him to take a step back, his hands in surrender. Míngzé immediately hated himself for the way he reacted. It was stupid. He knew Mindo, knew she wouldn't do anything to him and yet— could he really be sure? If he still believed that it would make him a fool.

Only when her voice calmed again, did Míngzé release a breath he did not know he was holding. “Alright, no doctor,” was all he said as he slowly lowered his injured arms. A part of the urgency he had felt before left him. His actions and gestures slowed down, almost as if he was walking near some dangerous beast that would attack if he was not careful.

As Mindo gave the shortest explanation possible, Míngzé picked up the chair from the ground and sat down. Tightly he crossed his arms. “Fuck, Mindo, that is— I’m glad you made it out.” It was no use to say it was bad, she knew that. Right now he was simply happy she was still alive and kicking. Or maybe not kicking for a while.

While he was unable to see what she was doing, he could still hear every hiss of pain and grunt. In a way that made it worse as he had no idea how severe it was. His already pale expression grew even worse and he clenched his teeth. A wave of relief washed over him when she mentioned it was done.

Not that it stayed for very long.

Míngzé looked up, his unseeing golden eyes resting on Mindo. The silence that followed was nearly insufferable. Even with what little words she used, he knew what she referred to. But it could not be. She could not know. It felt as if the whole world came to a standstill.

“Mindo,” Míngzé started, his voice taking on a cold tone. “What really happened?” There came no further response to the questions she asked. Instead he looked directly at her as he held his breath. He knew there were more of them, but Mindo? Surely not.