'What?'
Suijin's eyes fluttered open to the familiar hospital ceiling, though distinctly different from the one he had gotten used to.
A stain was missing in the top right corner; a few dots were not where he remembered them to be, tiny things only his observant eyes would have noticed.
But such small details weren't the target of his observation right now; instead, the boy was trying to clear up his head in general.
It felt like a truck had forced him into a coma, and he was only just now getting up.
Suijin felt a headache coming on as his mind was laced with questions.
His mouth was unnaturally dry, and the usual pitcher of water he kept next to him was nowhere to be seen.
His eyes felt tired and heavy, like he could still go back to sleep despite feeling like he had just gotten out of it.
The boy, in his sleepy state, planned on ignoring everything and closing his eyes, forgetting his worries until the next time he woke up.
But something stopped him.
'N-No way—'
A feeling, familiar yet foreign, caused him to shoot his eyes open.
He ignored the pain from being suddenly exposed to light, instead focusing on that feeling and trying to discern it.
The boy felt emotions rush over him, and he tried to feel them; he wanted to know if this was yet another one of his nightmares playing tricks on him.
Nightmares, not dreams, as when he woke up, his hope would turn to despair.
He wanted to use his hands to discern, to feel whatever foreign object was invading his face, yet fear and hesitation about whether he could handle another false positive held him back.
What if he's wrong?
What if it's not there?
What if this is fake?
As such thoughts plagued his mind, Suijin didn't know what to do, but it seemed his mind had made up its decision.
In the end, curiosity overtook worry, and finally, his hand touched 'it.'
A familiar square feeling.
The usual hole in the center is covered by bandages. And pain in an area that had recently been bare.
The boy used that pain as confirmation that this wasn't fake, as a marker that his reality was the true one.
He didn't have to fear, for this was real.
"His" nozzle…
'IT'S BACK!!!!!!'
In the midst of his excitement, the boy heard a knock on the door, and the unfamiliar voice that asked if they could come in told Suijin that they were a doctor.
The boy didn't question why he was in a different room, why a doctor outside of his usual one would come to visit, or why his nozzle was miraculously bandaged.
His mind didn't want to think of anything that could shatter this precious reality for him.
So instead, he focused on what he would tell them—that one night his nozzle had miraculously appeared.
As the boy was thinking so after his quick affirmation of their entry, he heard the squeaking of wheels. He saw two big ones hoisting a boy and caught his sight.
'A disabled doctor? Unusual but not uncommon,' the boy told himself.
Yet next, he saw shoes—old work boots he was accustomed to in his 16-year-old life—holding the same marks and scratches he was deeply familiar with.
He saw a face so similar to his, yet…different. Lacking a detail, one so crucial that he had overlooked until it was gone,.
'D-Dad.'
Once he was fully rolled in, Suijin took note of the hospital gown he was clad in, along with his evidently haggard state, but otherwise said nothing.
The doctor pushing him shut the door being the two's entry, turning to face them.
"Suijin, I hope you're having a good morning, and Enkai, your recovery's been well; no extra pains or things we have to take note of?"
"Same as expected; I can't say there's no pain, but nothing unexpected."
Suijin was like a statue, not interfering in the conversation.
"Great, now as to the surgery–"
'Surgery?'
"Both of your vitals are normal, and from the data we've been provided by your family's personal doctor, everything's going to be normal. Now, Suijin, don't touch your nozzle for a few days until it becomes accustomed to its new place."
Gesuring over to the wheelchair-bound Enkai, he continued, "Your father had the best doctor, "Paste," coupled with his partner, "Cut," come in and personally oversee the surgery, assisting when needed, so we don't want any complications to come up."
After he said that, the doctor wrote a few things down before walking out of the room, saying that when Enkai's ready to be picked up, he can press the summoner button next to Suijin's bed.
So, son and father sat together in silence before Suijin decided to break it.
"So it's over."
He himself had to grapple with that fact for the past week; he was someone who knew of the inevitability that no nozzle brought.
So seeing the empty space where his father's should be told Suijin all he needed to know of hiaboutfather's career.
Even knowing so, the boy gasped, seeing his father's solemn "yes" confirm his worst fear.
"W-Why."
It started as a question, so low to the ears that Suijin doubted Enkai could properly hear it. So he said it again.
"WHY!"
This time louder, more forcefully, yet he received nothing in turn again. So the boy continued with his tangent,
"WHY, WHY WOULD YOU GIVE UP YOUR CAREER FOR ME? GIVE UP EVERYTHING. NOW YOU CAN'T BE A HERO; NOW YOU CAN'T SAVE PEOPLE; NOW YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING. WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO NOW. HUH? WHAT—-"
Suijin's words continued on; at some point, it became evident that the boy wasn't talking to Enkai.
His words didn't come from a spot of concern over his father's future.
Instead, they came from himself; the boy was simply regurgitating what he had thought about himself over the past few days.
And just when it seemed like he would never stop…
SLAP!
