@sgnrina / ok mom
he stumbles into the university hospital, vision still hazy from the choke hold that he was in for the last two minutes of his life. his breath, short and his hair, a mess. a hand raises to quickly tame the strands, shaking his head for a moment as to snap himself back into the stable, uninjured kaiser from an hour ago. from before his confrontation with the guy that thought he could take on the boxing captain. he wasn’t the boxing captain for no reason, his title attached to his name, synonymous.
he manages to stumble into a chair, catching his breath for a moment, a hand raises this time to rub at his temples. a cut that he could feel above his left brow, deep enough to make blinking a problem, but not enough to get stitches. “shit.” he huffs from beneath his breath, as he feels the trail of blood that ran down his face from the open gash, forefinger dampened by his own blood. the receptionist having spotted him, the usual roll of her eyes and a taunting smile pulled across her features, asking if he wanted to see rina? he nods, “tell her that all my organs are hanging out.” he has been to the campus hospital numerous times before, all of which required the same treatment, bruises and cuts from fighting. and every time he came here, he would always request for one, and one person only. rina. she was the only one that he would allow to tend to his wounds, anyone else and would have their fingers chopped off.